#and that is the root of the problem. being NICE is offering. being KIND is following through

[fingertipsmp3]

You know what it is. She says the right things, but never does the right things

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

who's that girl?

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible cheating, low self-esteem, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you neighbour is too helpful, and too nosy, for your liking, but he's not your only problem.

Characters: Tommy Miller, Joel Miller

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“You fixed it,” you say bluntly as you approach the fence. 

Tommy looks up from his knees, yanking out the deep roots of a weeds as his hair falls forward over his shining forehead. He quorks his head and narrows his eyes with a grin. He does that a lot. Smile. Especially when there’s no reason for it. 

“Fixed what? The hole in your life?” He winks. 

You don’t know what that means. You frown. 

“The birdhouse. My birdhouse,” you say. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Saw that squirrel messing around the other day,” he shrugs and tosses the weed into the open compost bag. “What’s a nail or two and some paint?” 

“How much?” You ask. 

“What?” Now he looks confused. 

“For the work. Twenty? Fifty?” You offer. 

“Nothing. I’m being neighbourly,” he insists. 

You stare at him. Neighbourly. That’s what he calls all the unnecessary things he does. Like when he mows your lawn before you can or greased the rust hinge on your gate. Can’t he ask like a normal person? 

“I didn’t ask for it.” 

“I know,” he blows out between his lips, “it’s just a nice thing to do.” 

“But why?” You press. 

“Because I’m nice? I don’t know,” he’s further perplexed as he swoops back his hair. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

“Thanks,” you take the prompt, “but I still never asked you to do that.” 

“Uh huh,” he nods as he raises one brow. “Well, if it’s better, I can go back and break it again.” 

You consider the offer, “no, that’s fine. The birds need to eat.” 

“Right,” his eyes search you and he smiles again. “Next time I promise, I’ll be sure to ask.” 

You back away and go back to your porch. You don’t get him. The worst thing about having your own place is the people. Why do they have to be so concerned with you? Why can’t they just let you be? Is the fence not a good enough signal? 

You go back through the house and onto the back deck. You sit on the top step to watch the red and grey cardinal couple peck at the suet and seed. That’s your favourite thing to do. You find the feathers pretty and their songs soothing. Birds are much better than people. 

As the evening wiles away, growing cooler and softer, and you mourn the waning time. Back to work tomorrow. Not that it’s very far. Just in your home office. Still, you’ll be pent up inside in front of a screen. It’s hardly stimulating. 

You yawn and make yourself get up. You’ll barbeque the chicken skewers and some veggies. You go inside to get all the fixings you need. You come out and light the grill, breathing in the pollen and hint of moisture in the air. 

You hear voices as the barbeque heats up. You lay the skewers and roasting pan on the grill and close the lid. The smell is comforting to you. It reminds you of your late father. 

“Huh, Tommy, see you’re still crashing into things,” a gristly voice comes from the other side of the fence as the loose slat is wiggled. You grimace. Looks like your neighbour has company. “Couldn’t put a nail gun to this thing?” 

“Oh yeah, the nail gun I lent to you,” Tommy chirps back. “Joel, leave it alone.” 

You wiggle the long tongues in your grip. You always thought of fixing it yourself but always forget. You’re surprised your handy neighbour hasn’t already, considering he could come right through and touch your birdhouse. Now you think of it, how did he even get to it? 

You glare at the loose slat. Ah. That could be the possible reason for his procrastination. The slat moves and a face appears in the space as it’s twisted on the loose nails. A man you vaguely recognises peers through. He comes to Tommy’s often. 

“Smells good over there,” he comments as he peers into your lawn. 

You don’t say anything. Why is he doing that? You should tell him to mind his business but that isn’t polite. Even if your father would have laughed. 

He hesitates before he drops the slat straight and retreats into his brother’s yard. You hear a whistle and low grumble. You can’t make out his words. 

“She don’t want you peepin’ on her,” Tommy chortles, “what? My steak isn’t good enough for ya?” 

“You overcook it. No one wants your grey slabs,” the other man, Joel, rebuffs. 

“Oh, is that why you drink all my beer?” 

“Gotta moisten it up.” 

“Whatever,” Tommy mutters. 

You hear his footsteps as he climbs his deck steps. That’s another problem. After last year’s cacophonous renovation, his deck is high enough that he can see you over the top of the fence. A privacy fence! 

“Hello, neighbour,” he calls over the sound of his barbecue lighting, “what’s for dinner tonight?” 

You glance over at him and back to the grill. You lift the lid and turn the skewers, stirring around the veggies on the pan. You close it and hang the tongues as you look out at the bird feeder. They’ve scared them all away. 

“Ha, looks like I’m not the only one she wants nothing to do with,” Joel remarks as the tab of a can cracks, “you ever get anything good? These craft beers taste like scum.” 

“You didn’t complain last week,” Tommy grumbles and shakes his head, approaching the rail of his deck, “smells like chicken.” 

You roll your eyes. You really don’t want to be rude. You just want to enjoy your time alone. 

“Yep, chicken,” you confirm as you sit on the chair against the house siding and put your sunglasses on. You can feel him watching you. 

“Delicious, you know, I make this Mexican chicken--” 

“Ah, Tommy, lay it on thicker,” Joel snorts, “look at her. She’s tryna block you out. The sun’s gone.” 

Is it that obvious? You turn your face away, embarrassed. Tommy sniffs and clacks his own pair of tongues, “uh, anyway, have a good night, neighbour.” 

“We’ll try to keep it down,” Joel adds dryly as he pulls Tommy back by his arm. 

You chew your lip and stare through the dark lenses. You wonder if you could get a bigger awning to block him out or something. You’ve dealt with mice and ants and wasps, but you still can’t get rid of that one pest. Just like the others, he only seems to multiply. 

[wszczebrzyszynie]

In older artworks Ryba seems so much edgier and so angsty and now… he’s like a cute puppy. I would love to know how Ryba has changed over the years, and how he’s different or similar from his older versions. I think you mentioned a few years ago that Ryba (as he is now) was a bad boy when he was younger, and I wanna know if that’s still true. If it is, how does he think of his past self and how did he go from edgelord to ray of sunshine?

Hmmm well i wouldnt exactly call Ryba... hm. I can feel this will be a long one. Hes one of my top 3 favourites so this was fun to elaborate on

Ryba is one of my older characters (7 years old now or so) so he has changed quite significantly and in ways i cant really explain. I probably just got bored with him being the problem child and made him nicer. Well either way yes in retrospective Ryba used to be very edgy and one of my main problem causing characters. He wasnt mean exactly as much as he was just uncaring and extremely selfish. Not worlds most insufferable teenage boy but definitely someone annoying. That problem child persona is still present in current Rybas childhood, which was mostly caused by grief and loss of his family and lack of attention and care that came with it. Ryba lost his parents when he was fairly young and was living with his more estranged family before later moving in with his grandma, with whom he lives since (and who he loves very much), and that period was very hard for him and shaped him as a person going forward. He started acting out durning that time and it progressed so much it just further isolated him from others; he was always a nice child if given the chance and some positive attention, but he did do a lot of stupid things for people to just see him

Ryba now is a very kind and friendly person, but that kindness is rooted somewhat in what other people would consider selfish needs; he needs to be liked, to be a friend and be worthy of others positive attention. Its his main life fuel; Ryba doesnt like dealing with his own problems, and prefers drowning himself in love to escape from them. Hes overly dependent on that feeling of love. Doesnt mean hes less kind or that hes somehow two faced, but that kindness doesnt come from a "morally pure" need to just be kind, and thats a very important aspect of Rybas personality.

Ryba has a lot going on in his head he doesnt know how to succesfully sort out; hes not stupid (even though he does act dumber than he is to make people laugh and appear more safe, friendler), but he has significant problems with sorting out his needs (both physical and emotional) energy and emotions, not helped by his extreme unwillingness to deal with it in a normal way or even just, talk to someone about it. Ryba is both an open and a closed book. Instead his own problem solving skill boils down to occasionally throwing things at the wall to see if they stick and never letting go if they do. Which is why he tends to contradict himself a lot; his tendency to pick fights with other boys is the same outlet for his emotions as being clingy and loving is. Its relatively easy for him to replace one with the other in the short term, as long as hes in the centre of attention and is being physically close to someone, even if in the long term his tendency to fight could be considered a form of self harm; its something that makes him feel awful right after, but he keeps doing it, because it does work for something. On the other hand, clingyness and whatever form of intimacy hes offered, tends to result more in him feeling like a freak (hence the "Ryba wouldnt be able to date someone who isnt as obsessive about him as he is" from one of my recent rybaposts came from; if he knows hes needed the same way he instead leans into the codependency as much as he can, even when he realizes hes getting "addicted" to a person; Ryba is surprisingly perceptive, especially when it comes to other people, he just doesnt want to deal with the baggage). In the similar way, his need to take care of others instead of himself is his way of making himself useful and having something else to focus on that isnt himself. Ryba is a character whose sanity is being held together by wax and spit

As for what he thinks about his younger self; if he had to be honest he just wishes there was someone for him at that time and after. Main theme of DNS is loneliness and while i wouldnt say modern Ryba is lonely, nor does he consider himself so (he may not talk about his issues to his friends, but they are still his friends nonetheless and he loves them a lot), that sudden childhood separation from people he should depend on and a period of loneliness that came with it is something that definitely did shape him in a significant way; kind of like a root of the problem that kept on growing even after the disaster has stopped, becoming something a bit more complex than in its infant state

[that-random-outsider]

Alice in Wonderland Glassheart/Bridgella Au

Okay I have ideas for both so hear me out

Bridgella

It's spring break at Merlin Academy which means a week without school, and constant abuse from her family for Ella, whereas for Bridget it means returning home to Wonderland! Only problem is, she doesn't want to leave Ella behind. If her step family was that bad even with the 8 hours at school and constant escapes to Bridget’s dorm, she could only imagine how bad they'd be if Ella was there 24/7. So she offers to take her to Wonderland for the week. It'd be nice to have a friend around, while magical Bridget so often got lonely in her little house of cards.

Ella is hesitant at first, unsure of if she would be a bother to her friend, or even if her family would let her, but agrees the moment Bridget pleads with her. How could she say no after all? Her stepmother allows it reluctantly saying she would take up too much of Anastasia's and Drizella's space if she stayed but said that she had to fend for herself if she wanted to have anything to wear outside of the rags she'd sewn together herself. "If I bought it. I own it. It stays here."

Nonetheless Ella follows through on her promise to Bridget, packing barely enough for a night or two and following Bridget to Wonderland. Of course Bridget had thought of everything clothes, activities, snacks, magic, she wants to show Ella everything there is to love about her home and of course Ella just watches with amusement and wonder. That is at least until something strange starts happening to her. Whenever Bridget asked her about back home or school she can't seem to recall any of it. In fact she starts to forget almost anything outside of her time with Bridget in Wonderland.

Because Ella hadn't been born there being in Wonderland for such an extended time frame had some unseen side affects. She was becoming a part of the place, madness and all. Bridget starts to take notice and once she realizes what was happening she knows that she has to send Ella back home. But she had never seen her friend so happy, so care free. She didn’t want Ella to hurt again. She wanted Ella to stay in the castle with her, where she could be happy all of the time. Where she could give her anything her heart desired, how could she let her friend suffer again after she saw how much that pain truly weighed on her. The longer Ella stays in Wonderland the deeper it's roots start to anchor her there forever and Bridget is the only one who could possibly bring her back to her senses, and the truth is... she's not sure if she wants to.

Glassheart

Kind of inspired by @c-rose2081 phantom of the Oprah au in some ways

Okay so when Chloe was a little girl, around seven, eight years years old she falls down a rabbit hole to Wonderland. She's confused and lost and scared she just wants to get back home, but she doesn't let that stop her. Knights are brave she’d remind herself wondering further and further into the confusing woods trying to settle her tears, but she can't help herself she wants her mom, and she misses her brother and she just wants to go home. That's when Red shows up, having been watching the girl the whole time like her mom told her to.

She'd never met anyone her age before, especially not one from the surface, and like every other person from Wonderland she reveled in her curiosity. She approaches Chloe with interest and begins asking the girl many questions. Why she's crying, what's a Chad, where'd she come from. She asks question after question amusing the scared girl until her tears turn to giggles at her new friend. She tells Red she wants to go home and can't find her way, but Red’s never had a friend before and gets angry because she wants Chloe to stay, so they make a promise. If Red takes her home, next time she returns she'll stay and then they'll be able to play together again for as long as they want.

So Red returns her new friend home dreaming of her eventual return, except it never comes. Years pass by and her mother gets worse but to Chloe that night was nothing more then a hazy memory that no one would believe. "It was just a dream" they'd told her "the Rabit holes' been closed for years" and though she'd convinced herself she'd believed them Chloe knew deep down that it was real. That Red was real.

One day, after a decade of living separate lives Chloe returns to Wonderland, and Red is both hurt because she'd thought Chloe had left her for good and also ecstatic that she had returned. Except, when Red approached her just as she did all those years ago not a trace of recognition had shone on Chloe’s face. She had forgotten about her, about their promise, she lied. Chloe tells Red she has to get home and Red is angered at the sense of de ja vu she got at the statement. Red refuses to help claiming that "this time you're supposed to stay" which only confused Chloe further. She didn’t remember being there before, meeting Red, or making a promise. The memory having long been overwritten by those who called her a lier, or crazy, but the people of Wonderland all seemed to have memories of her before. She felt as if she was going mad, and maybe she was. But who was Red to stop her? She made a promise, and it was time she keep it.

[anantaru]

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅♡ sfw kaveh boyfriend headcanons

he‘s just amazing, point blank ૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝ɞ̴̶̷ ·̫ ‹⸝⸝ ꒱ྀིა ‧₊˚

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, sharing kisses, a little angsty, gn! reader

+ ˚ spontaneous dates on a budget

to be frank, your lovely boyfriend kaveh never considered being short of mora to hold any sort of significant problem above his head nor did he ever regard it as something to completely wreck a well-thought out day with his beloved.

sincerely, you knew the blonde oh too well— particularly his charming tendencies to plan out your sweet dates.

as it happens, kaveh would always kindly decline your own offer to help out with any kind of planning because little do you realize was he quite fond of surprising you with his creative ideas, leaving not one stone unturned to make it into a spectacle in broad daylight, on a budget of course.

as an alternative of taking you out for a grand and pricy dinner on a warm evening in sumeru city, the architect will instead search for a nice and cozy place outside of it.

when it comes to the topic of food, he will mostly raid the freshly bought refreshments his roommate had purchased the other day when it was his turn to buy and fill up on required necessities.

now, hold on— zooming to a significant question that might float above your head right now; will kaveh tell alhaitham that he's taking some of the foods he shopped for himself? well, probably after he had already finished them with you, heh.

+ ˚ his fears

when deep rooted lovers such as kaveh and yourself strive to keep emotional and supporting tendencies for a lifetime, your bond was destined to be set in stone, to be eternal and flourishing— giving off light which was parallel to flames that breathe all the more deeply for being closer together.

in you, his loving significant other, he saw a comfortable life inherited infinitely and kaveh was quite eager to keep a balance in your relationship.

because you had been aware of his fears— the actuality was dreadful, of you leaving him behind one day.

the clear thought of such grueling despair alone was formed heavily in his blood vessel, a strong phenomena that cannot be measured throughout his own psyche.

in times like this, it's reassurance he needs, of course, you wouldn't ever leave him and he knows, yet the fear was always there— the frightening perception spreading inwardly, secretly hiding in the fathomless profundity of his heart.

+ ˚ huge cuddle (+kissies) sessions for hours

but now, to the fun part— in spite of the fact that kaveh was a passionate and emotional lover, he too had an abundantly huge love to give to you physically. quite frankly, he couldn't possibly keep his hands to himself and just had to have them encircled around your body at all times.

ever so often you catch kaveh being needier than usual but you really do not mind, you say it's cute if anything, when his cheeks surge with a heated bubbling as he walks towards you with his infamous puppy eyes, awaiting a well deserved hug.

kaveh once told you that being touch starved was one of the things he would suffer from on a daily, even though you have seen each other all the time. was he perhaps dramatic? yes, doesn't need a genius to figure that out, but that was one of the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.

most of the times you will spend enough closeness together, hugging in your home, not his, but your home. yours was better and not plagued by the evil scribe bothering you, as kaveh had stated himself.

yet my love, do not concern yourself with outside noises, he whispers;

between an occurring storm outside the impounds of your warm home, supplemental to the wind that howls loudly through fallen leaves, in the opinion of your boyfriend, you were the gentle centre that occupied his life, and so here he was safe with you just as you were safe with him, coming to rest at his side with his scarlet eyes gleaming splendidly through the shadowed room.

aside from the cute fact of this matter, it was ridiculously amusing to you that kaveh didn't realize that he was an exceptional kisser, always giving his one hundred and ten percent. foremost, he will take things slow, leaning into your parted lips before claiming you wholly, not adding too much but the right amount was greeting you abundantly well.

you can see himself become excited the moment his movements get more uneven and unpredictable, when he feels like he needs to taste you further in order to feel somehow satiated.

above all, you see yourself becoming whole again as you slant into him, vulnerable and caring, you find yourself addicted to him, as much as he did too— but for every reason that is pure and right, none other dared to share this sweet perception of delight.

you were his safety and love, an anchor he held onto, that he tethers himself to because he so wanted to drag this moment on as long as physically possible.

+ ˚ conclusion and how he sees your relationship

finally yet most importantly, kaveh shares his views with you, he is incredibly transparent and never keeps a secret locked away from his significant other— he found it to be unnecessary to hide any topics that might concern you as well.

essentially in his own terms of phraseology;

“something such as transparency in a relationship was the gold key to my heart.”

archons, he's so damn in love with you it almost pains him to admit it all over again. to describe this fondness was impossible; wether its irreverent topics you'd ramble about together, funny, real as a crystal fly hiding in the rain and walking perfectly with your own dreams and fantasies.

you were bound and free with him, floating and established, laughing and sober— most of the times because if truth be told, kaveh was a terrible lightweight and couldn't hold in his liquor, ever.

but perhaps, now that he has the time to indulge in the kindness of your relationship, it is you that performs the miracles in his life.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[lunastrophe]

Hi! I've read a lot of your drow lore posts, and I absolutely love all the information you've provided (and the way you organize them makes my brain happy.) I know you've talked about being transgender in Drow society, but do you have any ideas on how being nonbinary would work? Acceptance, role in society, ect.? I was just curious because I'm nonbinary but I'm also getting really into Drow culture haha

Hello - thank you for visiting my drow corner and for an interesting question! 😊

🕷️ In a typical Lolth-worshipping society, I am afraid that coming out as nonbinary - or expressing any kind of gender nonconformity, really - would be dangerous for a drow character.

Structures of Underdark Lolth-sworn drow societies are pretty rigid and focused around female-male dichotomy - which is firmly rooted in teachings of the church of Lolth. Drow whose gender identity does not fit this dichotomy are typically seen as a danger to the fundamental values of Lolth-sworn society.

A nonbinary drow would probably have two basic options: to live in the closet, with their assigned gender determining how they are perceived and referred to - or to leave. Seeking open acceptance would not end well, I suppose, especially for a drow who is closely connected to some noble house or to Lolth's clergy.

For a non-noble drow, things would probably be easier. Without a row of house priestesses, siblings and matron mother watching their every move, they would probably be able to act more freely. They might find, for example, a gender neutral profession - maybe one that requires them to travel a lot and spend time among other, more accepting people.

Still, trying to be openly nonbinary Lolth-sworn drow among other Lolth-sworn drow would be very dangerous.

🕷️ In drow societies where the main deity is Vhaeraun, I suppose that a nonbinary drow would have next to zero problems with being accepted.

Some followers of Vhaeraun heavily promote patriarchy and dominance of drow males, though, especially in power structures.

So, it is probably easy to imagine that, for example, a nonbinary drow with a very feminine look and style of dress might confuse some Vhaeraunans - at least initially. Some of them (mainly males) might be quick to label such an individual 'female' and stubbornly insist to treat them like one, or approach them with a measure of distrust.

In such case, becoming a cleric of Vhaeraun might also be a problem. Church of Vhaeraun sometimes advertises itself as "egalitarian", but... yeah, in practice, distribution of power is typically heavily tilted there in favour of male drow.

Still, I cannot really imagine Vhaeraunans (in general) persecuting a nonbinary drow for the sole fact of being nonbinary. Vhaeraunan societies are fairly accepting, as long as you are not working against them and you do not worship Lolth.

🕷️A drow society where Ghaunadaur is worshipped - I suppose that a nonbinary drow who is chaotic, evil and maybe also more or less insane, would feel good there. Good characters, not so much.

Ghaunadaur is not a nice deity (chaos, sacrifices, madness, crawling creatures, alien intelligence - Lovecraftian vibes, sort of), but has an affinity for everything that is primordial, not defined and not clearly shaped.

I think that nonbinary, chaotic evil drow, especially outcasts, might be attracted to his cult - they might perceive Ghaunadaur as a fitting alternative to Lolth or other established Underdark deities popular among drow. To Ghaunadaur, male-female dichotomy is totally irrelevant.

🕷️Eilistraeans would have no problem with nonbinary drow - they would be treated just like any other person. Followers of Eilistraee might be also ready to offer help to a drow who became an outcast because of coming out as nonbinary.

A good (in terms of alignment) nonbinary drow might be attracted to the cult of Eilistraee, especially since for Eilistraeans, male-female dichotomy is not overly important - they generally promote equality and harmony, and they are always glad to welcome new followers, no matter their gender identity.

Whew, I hope I managed to include all relevant aspects 🙂Hope you will find this post useful!

[kairiscorner]

ok, i'll be out with it, ako'y isang pinoy RRRGHHHHH tagalog is so fucking hard, help so i kinda had an idea to cope with my shitty filipino exam scores:

(also i'm sorry for the crappy spanish, please correct me on it if you'd like!)

miles morales x filipino reader

YOU WOULD MAKE HIM LISTEN TO IV OF SPADES, THEIR SHIT IS FUCKING FIRE, your songs with him are "mundo" and "come inside of my heart"

miles would sing "come inside of my heart" out loud when he's listening to it on his headphones, especially when he's alone in his room, it's in his playlist now bc of you.

YOU'D MAKE HIM LISTEN TO ERASERHEADS, you probably knew them bc of your parents, your favorite song to listen to with him is "ang huling el bimbo" (umiyak ng malala)

and ben & ben........ ARAW-ARAW IS Y'ALL'S SONG, CHANGE MY MIND

if you're like me, you have no two braincells that understand how to use tagalog or use its tenses properly, but you aren't used to using fluid english that well, so you speak taglish.

being part puerto rican and learning some spanish from his mom, i think you and miles would understand each other a little when using tagalog or spanish.

you both fear the slipper.

when you first met his parents, JUSME, THEY LOVED YOU.

they didn't understand at first what the "mano po" meant, but you explained it was a sign to accept blessings from your elders, and you always called them "tita" and "tito", which rio LOVED OMG.

"Entonces, ¿cuándo vas a invitarlos a una cita? (so, when are you going to ask them out on a date?) " rio would always ask miles this when you were around, and he'd be choking on air or clearing his throat and just laugh it off.

when you offered them rice cakes once, rio asked what they were called, and she almost choked when you said "ah, puto po"

"¿ESTO SE LLAMA COMO? (THIS IS WHAT?)"

jeff wanted more puto, but rio'd pinch his ear when he'd say "puto", she knows it's the name, but she feels kinda weird about it. she accepted it, but still sometimes cringes at the name (I'M SORRY, THAT'S THE NAME)

NOW IF IT WERE YOUR PARENTS (basing off my experience as a filipino so sorry if it's not like yours :'>) THEY'D BE TEASING YOU ABOUT HIM ALL THE DAMN TIME

"ano, jowa mo na ba siya? or ano..."

"nako, ikaw ha, mag-aral ka muna bago ka makipagjowa sa morales na yan"

"aalis ka? sino kasama mo? wala ba doon si morales? ay nandoon, edi sasamahan kita nak."

your parents wouldn't really have a problem with miles, they'd think he's a nice kid, they'd just watch your every move with him as long as he's in your house.

also, i think, you would teach him swear words in tagalog :>

you'd troll him to say "putangina mo" (now don't say this non-filipino readers <333) means "have a good morning"

he tried it on your parents

yeah they didn't like him after that, until you cleared it up and got reprimanded for teaching him the wrong stuff TT

either way, miles would love to learn more about your culture as a filipino, he thinks it's super interesting. you made him want to revisit his puerto rican roots and learn some more spanish when he realized some words you taught him (including the swears) were similar to words in tagalog.

you also wanted to learn a lot more about him, his family, and his roots--so you two kind of exchanged cultures to better understand each other <:)

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[catgirlbussy]

im gonna do a lil sadpost, as a treat. if u dun wanna read that or interact or anything there's no harm done <3 it kinda feels nice sayin stuff into the void tbh, cause i know as i look out ill always see myself at minimum, and im still thankful. im alive. if someone can relate or whatever then thats a neat bonus ★

I'm not super sure how to formulate these thoughts, cause lots of it is just incompressible /feeling/. I've been on HRT for close to two years now, and modifying my internal physical landscape alongside the work I put in with the ways I've learned sharing benefit so far, like therapy and self-directed exploration of my emotions and the simple but vital practice of being more open with others about how I'm feeling, has uncovered a lot.

It's been overwhelmingly positive in so many ways. I don't have any regrets for starting this set of changes, even with full knowledge of the difficulties I've had rise as a result and that more are on the horizon, and also full awareness in that I will need to continue putting in the *good* work to care for myself and learn how to navigate the parts in my mind I'd kept hidden or obscured for so long. It's not /bad/, I feel so grateful to have this opportunity at all and I feel bounteous joys in this trove of beautiful experiences that, up 'till not too long ago, I never thought I'd be able to experience -- though I absolutely still dreamed of having them so vividly.

I have a lot of good graces in my life re: my transition. In a lot of ways I feel I've been exceedingly lucky. Canada has its fair share of problems without a doubt, but I also know full well there are a lot more places on our planet where it's much more difficult to be openly trans, let alone dangerous or lethal. I don't take that as an opportunity to rest, either, because having cracks forming in the firmament, letting in light to my dream of a world where trans experiences are accepted (and to note most thoroughly, I'm learning more of a lot of cultures in days gone by, /including some aspects of my own heritage/, having extended gender representations ingrained in their societal norms, some as far even to revere the dynamic and unique experience of existing beyond the gender binary in whatever way they saw as such) for **everyone** spurs in me an even deeper and impassioned drive to work in the ways I'm able to foster communication and connection while rebuking hostility so more and more beautiful, valid trans folks can experience respite and respect and safety as well.

I'm not wanting necessarily to change minds and upend the posture of society with this particular post, though, and so I hope you'll forgive me in my expressing my small, localised set of emotions in this moment. At the root of everything I experience I'm starting to get better at reminding myself that I'm a valid *individual person* in addition to being a contributor in the push for good and kindness for all.

It's probably telling that I feel the need to offer ~4 paragraphs as a disclaimer that I spend time learning about the global scale and am effortful in enacting progress there before just getting on with what I'm even feeling sad about. I don't see myself as a holy martyr for being nervous about expressing myself, but it seems more and more common evidently rather than by my hypothesis alone that many trans individuals would get by prior to exploring their gendered identity with burgeoning self-acceptance with a marked self-exclusionary behaviour when it came to opening themselves to emotional experience, regardless of any given instance being gendered or not. Until it becomes unmanageable, it feels easier to lock away senses of joy, sadness, etc. cause you can keep gettin on by in a sort of functional state and you tell yourself thats enough.

This is far from the worst thing I've come across so far, but I am feeling confused and the confusion is unique in its own way to the extent that I'm not even able to pin down how I /feel/ about feeling it. At its heart I can't seem to muster the right formulation of words to explain to others these particular experiences I'm having in my transition. Painting in broad strokes can be such disservice to the nuance for any individual's cluster of experiences, but tumblr if anything *for me* has brought much happiness in finding threads of commonality with others. Stark contrasts to my feelings of loneliness and seclusion from the world around me give me so much hope. I'm writing this partly in hopes that there is another one of those threads people might appreciate seeing. I do more than my fair share of journaling, but this one feels special and worth sharing right now, and so decadently I write these words for a community beyond myself.

To be blunted, perhaps I might phrase it by saying 'i feel sad about being happy.' It's that sort of absurdist perspective that helps me wrap my head around it a little better with how little sense it makes to my normal machinations. I'm not sad that I am having these new and thrilling experiences of adding or or changing parts of myself to live in the way I best see fit for who I am, but I feel sad because I don't know how to.

I get locked up at the slightest things. Someone compliments my nails, and its so hard to communicate efficiently the impossibly depthed importance this literally surficial act has for me. They aren't even painted well, but I painted them /myself/, I felt catharsis in exploring my love of artistic expression in the choice of colours, I rode high on the thrill of watching this new skill form in my own hands. The coat is uneven and I can't quite keep myself from getting knicks in places as they dry yet and I'm still practicing the nail care associated with maintaining healthy and resilient nails, but if I can be so bold to say, god forbid women do anything.

This person obviously wasn't chastising me for partaking in a traditionally "femininely-associated act", let alone that so thoroughly most things people take for gendered in no way innately are, the whole binary supposition is a damned myth. But because of how I was brought up and the mindset I was taught to have before I fought to think for myself instead, this was a joy I'd always admired but felt I was abhorrent for wanting to partake in. Absolutely anyone who feels otherwise can irrevocably go fuck themselves if they aren't willing to examine the falsity of the foundational thoughts they 'think' they have leading them to ever want someone to abstain from such a viscerally unobstructive and innocuous form of self exploration and creativity bexause it's "for girls". This goes for anything. For anyone. Idc who you are or what label you wanna use at any given moment, go explore. Live life. God fuck do we need people to just experience joy in some ways so we aren't so incorrigible and hostile towards eachother.

But you don't stop whoever took 15 seconds out of their say to mention to you they like the colour and wanted you to know to discurse at length upon the structural bastardisation of who people are allowed to be, cause more than any of that I just want to feel happy about it.

I literally stutter out whatever form of thanks my malformed emotionally-communicative faculties can muster in this surprise and try not to start sobbing in the grocery store aisle or whatever. It's so /good/, and it's so frustrating that I don't even know how to just process and appreciate that it is.

I was so much an absentee in my own bodied self that I could not fathom an understanding of what gender euphoria was until it snuck up smashed me in the teeth. I didn't have any basis of understanding for what it was really like to be happy about some part of myself.

Despite my loneliness I have still had the experiences of friendships, people caring about me, and relationships where a partner genuinely appreciated parts of me, physical, mental, emotional, whatever. More now than ever I am having those experiences as I learn to come out of my cloister inside my head. But this time I'm not just numb to everything. Sure, as I'm learning to not just be unilaterally numb until my bastion of self-isolation fails and I break there is abundance of pain, but the pain I honestly prefer. It's more vivid than it's ever been before, but I can benchmark that I'm still alive by its contrast to neutrality. It's familiar, and my mechanisms of clutching my emotions into my soul can still carry me forward as I try to figure things out. But fuck me is it ever hard to have a happy experience and not know how to communicate that it tore my sense of stability in those moments to shreds. To lose the composure that carried me for so many years because someone sought to share something with me they thought I'd appreciate because they care about me feels so counterproductive to just enjoying the absolute gift that experience is.

Abstractly, as I'm wont to do to a remarkably self-apparent fault, I can tell myself that these things take time. Human emotion is so complex, and its panoply of shifting lights glinting as the facets move their positioning relative to the light of being alive is what drives me to do art, and it always has been, contradictory so fully to my desire to lock everything away. I can't circumnavigate multiple decades of trauma and be free and unfettered in my senses in an instant just because I'm aware it's possible. And so I try so fucking hard not to just sit down and cry in that grocery store aisle, cause it hurts so bad to be happy.

How dare I find glints of good in the polluted landscape we live in. But that mindset helps nothing. People striving to live amidst turmoil is what makes life worth living. There will always be strife, but there will always be the possibility for hope alongside it.

Without fail, each night I'll self-soothe myself into a mode of somewhat-restfulness imagining what it would be like to trust myself enough to be imperfect and let someone hold me. It's the only thing I do anymore. It even backfires sometimes and I just waking-dream my way through countless blissful scenarios about what it would be like if that cute girl I've been starting to become friends with mentioned she wanted to hold my hand for hours until the sun comes up and I know I won't have any sleep at all. It's so goddamn worth it. I revel in it, because at least in the theatre of my mind I can find small ways of letting myself feel those joys. They aren't really happening. It's my own hand rubbing a thumb gently along my collarbone in a faux affection. But it's the only way I've found that's not so obstructively blinding in intensity for me to practice what it would be like to be close to others.

I still lose my sense of self so often. I find bruises from where I bumped into things and wholesale didn't notice until the tiredness sets in and I can't autonomously ignore how sore I am. I dive effortlessly into the placid waters of dissociation when someone gives me a hug, despite that being what I have dreamed of for so many years during my self-imposed isolation. Someone tells me they like an art piece I've made and I stopper any sense of pride or appreciation for their kind words despite pouring however much time channeling my slowly uncoiling understanding of reality into every particle of it and wishing that my experiences could convey any amount of any feeling whatsoever to another living being with the entirely selfish act of wanting that I feel like I had a real connection.

I can't get by with chainsmoking and shelf-set pain medications and blind ignorance any more. I can't ignore how badly I want to feel. I am figuring it out instant by instant and it scares me horribly. One day my yearnings for closeness will be actualised because I'll be ready to open when they come. My selfsense-extracted mutterings of the hypothetical joys of being pressed down into sheets and kissed because someone deigned to gift me with attention for they hold appreciation of this newly forming, ill-configured, but ultimately revelatory feminine self I'm becoming will no longer be fiction and prose but the rawness of experience that I, once, and then more, can lose myself into without terror thay I'm inadequate and never truly worth it. Someone will touch my breasts and love me for loving them myself and I'll give in to the annihilating instant where I am no longer a sense of self but just am. This body is not me but my, and I will scrape and fight however I can muster to live vicariously thru it because that is what I am meant to do by being here alive at all. If anything ever again I want to feel what love is like.

I'm not even reading this back to see if it conveys properly let alone makes sense at all. I'm exhausted and in so much pain. If you read this, thanks, and, if you can, go hug someone you love today.

[toushindai]

Do you have any thoughts on the relationships between characters so far in Hades II? Any predictions? How would you say they compare to those of Hades 1? Btw, love your megzag fic. You were The Author I went to for them back when 1.0 just came out.

Hello anon, and thank you!! I miss megzag so much, they are my everything. I will say that no one in Hades II so far is seizing me quite the way they do, especially not ship-wise—but let’s put the rest of this under a cut.

Below the readmore is an absolute free-for-all of spoilers so please be careful!

Overall the impression I get—especially from how Mel talks to and about Aphrodite—is that Mel thinks of love as something she’ll get around to once she has a chance to sit down and study how it works, which obviously comes after her task in importance. Now this is not how matters of the heart work, which presumably is why it’s immediately obvious that she and Icarus are BIG into each other. Which is cute, undeniably. I wish them happiness. Though that’s not really quite shipping, is it.

I’m still waiting for melnem to seize me like it has everyone else; I’m not opposed, but as of yet I’m not quite seeing what they have to offer each other. They are both striving for each other, that’s something; I just don’t yet see how that pulls them into bed with each other. It seems like the last thing on either of their minds. Except they do keep talking about taking each other’s clothes off. Are they flirting? They may be. At the very least I think SGG is sending deliberate “don’t worry, we ARE going there” signs. So far I am not drawn in by Mel/Moros as a ship, either. I’d much rather that shit-stirring suggestion of Eris’s (that the Fates are trying to set him up) be something that he finds kind of perturbing, that his sisters would try to set him up with someone just because she’s been nice to him. I would ship Moros/Dora. I think that would be cute and funny.

No despite all odds what I am 4k words into so far is some meleris. Well. I mean, that’s what the file name is called, and there’s some making out involved, but I don’t know if this is going to become a romantic or even physical relationship by the time I get wherever I’m going with it. Listen… I just love Eris. This horrible little gremlin whose ideals absolutely no one around her respects, so in response she doubles down on her gremlinhood. She’s at odds with Mel by their very natures and yet Mel keeps coming over to her little corner to give her the same gift over and over. I think they find each other frustrating but in the way a pet finds a puzzle treat toy frustrating, and I don’t think they know what kind of relationship they’re building with each other, but certainly one is building. I don’t think Eris really knows what a friend feels like and I don’t think she knows how to behave to keep a friend. I don’t think Mel knows why she is extending kindness to Gal Who Keeps Shooting Her And Littering. I, the player, am absolutely approaching this from the perspective of “someone in Eris’s entire life needs to be stubbornly kind to her as opposed to every authority figure in her life treating her like a problem child” but I don’t know if Mel feels the same way, consciously or un-.

Eris is just all around a deeply interesting presence in the game—the Unseen seem to me to be a cult (neutral use of the word) to Nyx and Eris is absolutely a dissenting voice against that. And everything else. The game has done the opposite of selling me on either “Chronos should rule” OR “the Olympians should continue unopposed” so I think we should hear Eris out. Did you know that “strife” and “strive” come from the same root. Something something the importance of dissent. Let her cook. Explosives. And drink bath water I guess.

Other things of interest.

The “your family may be vain idiots you hate being around but it’s still an inherent good to interact with them” tone of the epilogue of Hades I never pleased me greatly; so far, Hades II seems to be going “got it, just because someone is related to you by blood doesn’t mean you inherently have to feel anything for them” which I—I—I agree with that. Fundamentally. BUT THAT’S MY FAMILYYYY AND I LOVE THEMMMM TToTT… Supergiant is doing a fascinating thing where the majority of their players know Mel’s family better than she does, where Mel questions how strongly she even wants revenge for the family she’s never known while we, clutching our keyboards or controllers, are snarling Let Me At Him Let Me At Him I Love Those People. The “what do I care? I don’t even know them” is so deeply upsetting and I think that once there is an actual endgame that will get addressed but I a little bit wish we had not been given that line until we were ready to deal with it because it currently gives me an emotion.

Hecate is so interesting as a contrast to Hades—in some ways she is encouraging Mel towards much better emotional health but also. but also. Putting tremendous pressure on her, and telling her she must not think of Hecate as her mother or the Crossroads as her home. Asking Mel to leave these gaping holes in her heart so that her blood family and original home can fill them someday. I have to wonder if there’s a part of Melinoë that feels like Hecate is withholding these things because Mel isn’t good enough yet, and—deeper still—a part of her that fears that if she cannot become good enough, she will be subject to the same impatient disdain that Hecate aims at Nemesis and Eris. I don’t think Hecate is evil but I think she maybe doesn’t see the effect her single-mindedness might have.

And lastly, Chaos. Chaos!! Last night Chaos asked me, “Do you tolerate my gates stabbing you and my mark making your life difficult just because you want to look at me” and you know what. Yeah. Their new design is everything in this whole world to me. Chaos I am going to change how I dye my undercut to be more like you. But also I absolutely love what they’re going through emotionally in this game. Listen, if they had turned the Fates over to Chronos just because they like thwarting the Fates, I would have winced but forgiven them. This is a known! I don’t require them to operate under human morality! But the fact that they feel they were deceived and the indications that this troubles them, that they are not USED to feeling troubled, that they look at the way things are currently and say I would like things to be different actually, that they ask Mel for a response when they confess their part in the current goings-on (despite there not really being a question there IIRC!) but wait until so deep into the game to do so—Chaos I Love You. Would You Like A Hug. We stan an alexithymic primordial originator. Also “perhaps he shall release them if you use sufficient violence” is the funniest sentence in the world and I will continue to do my best 🫡

[captain-amadeus]

You have some of the literal best takes ever about Stf characters. Chief ones among them being you get the point of the show!!! which is to give people the opportunity to change, and you don't hate them obnoxiously to prop up cedric (who doesn't need that to begin with anyways)

Basically I'm just so happy there's people out here who like Roland and Chrysta and all the other good characters the fandom demonizes

GAHHHHHH

/pos this is so nice man

I do not understand why people are so adamant to point out every other character's flaws, and yet they make Cedric out to be correct in so many situations that have so much grey area to them. Cedric was NOT always the best person because he was not treated the best. The thing is people sometimes do bad things if they are treated badly, but when treated with kindness, can change for the better. That is literally the whole thing about Cedric and Sofia's dynamic: Sofia is good towards Cedric, which makes Cedric want to be good, despite how people treated him in the pass. It's even thanks to Sofia convincing others to treat Cedric better and give him a chance to show what he's capable of that overall allows Cedric to be better off in his life.

While Cedric does change for the better, he still does some things that aren't justifiable. It depends on how much other characters are willing to forgive him, but the ending of Day of the Sorcerers shows how despite people like Roland not completely forgiving his actions right away are willing to give him another chance because Roland realizes there was a REASON why he did all of this, and that there could be something done to get to the root of the problem.

There's also this thing called "people aren’t perfect and they will make mistakes, but that doesn't make them completely evil," and I feel like the fandom forgets that a lot. Especially with Roland.

Oh my god, Roland is hung up on a crucifix for breathing. I can't fathom how people come to the conclusion that Roland is the worst father to Sofia, when he's actually one of the sweetest dads I've seen in fiction.

I feel there's a lot of reasons why people mischaracterize him so much like:

1) He treats Cedric a bit poorly (and yes, the things Roland said about Cedric were bad, but Roland doesn't come from hating Cedric. It's more of a pity he has towards him, which is still disappointing because Roland should've supported Cedric more, but because he grew up with the notion that Cedric isn't as capable as his father, doubts Cedric's abilities like everyone else. He still has good intentions and doesn't mean to hurt his feelings, could talk about Cedric's Apprentice but we'd be here all day, but he still does because he doesn't quite recognize how his words impact his confidence)

2) People watch and focus on the Cedric centric episodes and think that Roland isn't doing his job as a father, when there's so many reasons why he can't always be on screen.

Personally reason two sort of icks me out, because people don't recognize how the small moments with Sofia and Roland have as much value as with Sofia and Cedric, but also kind of strange why people make Sofia and Cedric have this extremely close relationship where Sofia only goes to Cedric for literally everything. There is little balance when it comes to who Sofia interacts with in fan stuff, and I can see why their bond is father-daughter coded. Just, man, it's like she doesn't have an entire family she can turn to for help, who've shown nothing but support for her, where Cedric is the only person that exists for her in this stuff that it's, man at least let her talk with Miranda who is the best character in the show and the best mother ever when she needs help like she does in the show. Or maybe have her figure things out with Amber and/or James, hell, even Clover could offer a few words, the worst thing that could happen is the advice doesn't help and everyone learns a lesson in the end like in the SHOW.

Anyways I'll just stop here and say I will always love the royal family as a whole and as individuals, despite how most of them are ignored or demonized. You are very swag HEHSHSISJHDUEJSBEIJD

[wordsandrobots]

Had a pretty bad day so I'm going to boast about something.

I didn't mention it at the time but posting Chapter 14 of Ragnarök in G Minor on Friday took it past the previous high bar for individual Wishing on Space Hardware fic-length set by The Ares Affair (72,872 words vs 69,850). And this latest story isn't even halfway done. That'll come next week, and take the total word count for the series over 550,000 words.

(I'm hoping to land at about 555,000 because who wouldn't?)

Which is nice, and a good reminder of why, exactly, it took me half a year longer than expected to get Ragnarök finished. Because that did kind of disappoint me, but looking at it like this, it makes sense. There was a *lot* to get through to tie the overarching story together and give everybody some sort of key moment. My problem with writing fic for Iron-Blooded Orphans is that I want to write about ALL of it, and every single character, so it was probably inevitable that it wouldn't conclude with anything less then a doorstop of a fic.

Chapter 14 also marked the end of the character arc I started with the first IBO fic I wrote and I want to write a brief commentary on that. I'm planning a proper 'author's note' essay when the whole series is done, but this . . . this is something more specific.

(Behind a cut because it is talking about endgame stuff for Wishing on Space Hardware, which is already a post-canon fic for Iron-Blooded Orphans, so, yeah. Take heed and beware ye spoilers.)

I can't remember when exactly I decided one of the climaxes was going to be a three-way fight between fun-house mirror versions of the Devil of Tekkadan. Like much of WoSH, it fell out of the ever-expanding churn of ideas IBO left me with. But it's an obvious thing to do: take the legacy of the anime's protagonists and fracture it against itself for the sake of drama. Because whatever else, we are talking about a group of deeply traumatised child soldiers and there remains the potential for a lot of bad things to follow the hopeful ending of the show.

Embi is all the worst parts of Tekkadan. Violent, arrogant, selfish, reckless -- he's the vessel into whom I poured all that and more, to the point of having him actively reject the better parts. Heart-sickened by the death of his brother, the bonds of comradeship fray until he can't stand the sight of his former squad-mates, much less the miraculous returnee from the dead who catalyses the events of WoSH. At the same time, he can't stay at his worst. He struggles with new connections because they threaten to pull him from his grief. He doesn't want to move on. Embi roots himself in an old dream of being like Mikazuki, in the life of a mercenary soldier. Fighting is all he knows and beyond it lies the terrifying prospect of hope and trying. He'd have much preferred to burn up over Mars. At least that would have been a safely familiar ending.

Ordsley suffers the myth of Tekkadan, transformed by people who saw what a group of Martian children 'achieved' and wanted to surpass them. Yet the curse inflicted on him -- for he is of course a werewolf, turning with the influence of the crescent moon -- is to become unwilling legatee of Mikazuki's reality: the beast and the boy, the contradictory dreams of someone trapped by a system that sees people as raw material. For the smart young man at home on the proper side of history, it's a hell of a shock to reckon with the humanity of those condemned for their rebellion. Here, finally joining the survivors on the battlefield they once called home, the pieces click, for at least a moment. There are no easy answers in a world that offers children a choice between killing and starvation, but perhaps in the middle of the fray, it is easier to understand why they call each other friend.

Then there's Shino. The lovely, blood-thirsty himbo I thought it would be interesting to pluck from his canonical fate.

I know when I decided to shatter his prosthetic. The middle of last year, after reading writing by amputees, talking about how they are depicted, how that feeds and feeds off narratives fundamentally disconnected from their lived experiences. Still, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I'm not trying to speak to those experiences. The canon has sci-fi prosthetics. It's detached from the real world. It's just, the ways it also problematises them . . . the way, particularly with the addition of 598 and his cybernetic eye, that dovetails with the propaganda drive from militaries to gift high-tech limb replacements to those mangled in the course of fighting . . . I don't regret pushing myself to dip my toe in those waters.

You see, I wanted to tie together the strands of Shino's trauma. His instinctive reach for quid pro quo in his relationship with Yamagi, finally answered with the truth of everything positive he left behind on his first 'death'. His great bête noire, that failure of his last-ditch effort to save Tekkadan, coming full-circle as he's given another chance, another challenge, met this time with greater experience and maturity, and the knowledge of when not to fight. Third-best no longer, bolstered by all those who taught him what it takes to fly.

And as he gets to prove his mastery -- in ways beyond Embi's suicidal commitment and Ordsley's engineered supremacy -- he also reckons once more with that pernicious belief he is only fit to fight.

There isn't an answer, you know. Those doubts about ourselves, those demons, don't go away even when we let them go. We just learn to carry on regardless. To accept the possibility that we can live anyway, and to stop throwing the best parts of ourselves under the bus in our rush to distance ourselves from the worst.

So the arm is smashed to bits, the fate of the mobile suit pilot, the soldier, the body spent in violence. But Shino finally sees his younger self in a positive light and does what nobody else was able to for Embi: tell him it's OK to leave. Whatever it takes to be happy, even if that's a million miles away. He treats Ordsley as Ordsley, not Mika 2.0, reinforcing Ordsley's newfound balance. Above all, throughout everything, he is not alone. This final fight is spent with Eugene right at Shino's side, backing him up, trusting him. The Ryusei-Go is Tekkadan as a community, the part that truly never wilted. Because the reason Shino can have this moment of catharsis is that he is loved. So many people, building him up, giving him a future.

Everything he would do for them, unhesitatingly, and has, more times than he will ever realise.

I don't know if it's character development, exactly. Honestly, I don't know if the chapter actually encapsulates these things the way I wanted it to. I've read it too many times to see it straight any more and, even with a lovely band of readers I am privileged to have commenting, I'm doubting myself a lot these days. I don't sit well on my laurels, with the things I've completed, the word counts and the tick-marks. I worry it's still not enough. Put a fair of myself in Shino, there.

But I think it's good. I think it came out the way I wanted it to. I think it's the right thing for the story, to take a giant mecha battle, the tragic, inevitable conflict, and flip it around into an act of firefighting. I think I should be proud I got here, even if I never expected to when I first sat down at my keyboard to explain why the hot bisexual anime boy was still alive, actually.

So I'm make a note, to myself, that I did. That I should be proud. That I am, of me, for doing that.

And if you're reading this and you're going to be reading the rest of the story -- I'll just say, Shino himself is going to tell you why his vivid pink robot arm needed to be demolished by a giant sword. There'll be another, eventually (they do have a cyberneticist on speed-dial), but for now, well. You'll see.

[edwad]

What's the best secondary literature on the Grundrisse?

i'm not necessarily a grundrisse-doer by any means so i don't go out of my way to leaf through all the secondary literature on it, but rosdolsky's the making of marx's capital is the classic text which set discussions about the grundrisse in motion. it has been somewhat outmoded by later scholarship (even the title of the work itself is based on a misunderstanding of marx's changing plans for the critique of political economy), but all serious grundrisse-ing since is in some way indebted to this work.

otherwise, i think the relevant part of oakley's marx's critique of political economy is probably the best study of marx's source material and what he was doing with it. he has his flaws, but i consider oakley a must-read for anyone really trying to grapple with marx's economic work. his earlier book, the making of marx's critical theory (an obvious nod to rosdolsky), is much less ambitious than his 2-volume work, but has plenty of overlap and works well as a brief but scholarly overview of marxs development as an economic thinker in a way which dovetails nicely with the framing offered by mandel in his similar work on the formation of the economic thought of karl marx, but without nearly as much stupidity. mandel's work is worth reading if you can get to it, because he has a certain sensitivity to the development of marx's theory of wages in a way which puts the problem neatly to the reader, but oakley's work is undoubtedly superior.

there are also a zillion or so edited volumes out there which are more or less useful (in marxs laboratory ed. bellofiore et al, karl marx's grundrisse ed. musto, etc) and they're worth perusing on topics of interest, but -- like most scholarly volumes of that sort -- they are probably best digested after achieving a certain degree of familiarity. i don't know where you stand in relation to the grundrisse or marx generally, but these volumes tend to involve a lot of specialists wading into long-running debates that not even rosdolsky can fully prepare you for, so they don't necessarily work well as a handy guide to the text, if that's the kind of thing you're looking for (although obviously some pieces are better suited for this than others). that being said, musto's original work in particular (found in his edited volume but also freely available on his website) is quite useful for situating marxs grundrisse in the context of his life/intellectual development.

the last thing i might throw out there as a suggestion is sixel's understanding marx. this is a thin companion to marx's introduction of 1857, which is typically included in published editions of the grundrisse even though it doesn't really belong to that project and, in some ways, can complicate the reading by making it seem as if the grundrisse is supposed to somehow fit into the shape or develop the case for the conclusions of this introduction. this isn't really the function of the introduction, and the grundrisse wasn't written as a book-draft which ought to be introduced to an audience of readers. that being said, it's an important piece and is usually read by people picking up the grundrisse, so sixel's little book is handy for anyone interested in thinking through its implications. his approach is rooted in a philosophical reading of marx as navigating the terrain of german idealism with a notion of critique in mind which implicitly nods toward kant and hegel, so no one can complain that ive neglected these elements.

[macravishedbymactavish]

That's Casper (Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN! Reader)

TW for light swearing

| Blog HQ | Modern Warfare 2 Masterlist |

"Or you could, I don't know, try being nice to him?" You offered, not looking up from your book. Feeling the hand on your lower leg stop the mindless patterns it's been tracing.

"Be nice to Soap? I already am!" You raised your gaze to meet his eyebrow raised.

"No. You're nice to me. You seem to tolerate Johnny, " you deadpanned. Book now placed aside, gaze fixated on your boyfriend. Who has been complaining venting about a comment made between his teammate and another sergeant.

He's a fucking hardass. Always on me about everything.

You knew Soap quite well and would even consider him one of your closer friends. When Simon mentioned the comment, you were sure it wasn't said with any malice; Johnny isn't like that. If he wanted to talk shit he'd say it to your face, probably through a riot shield. You know, protect his face and all.

But that did nothing to quell Simon's mind. He was stubborn and anxious that his sergeant now held a deep-rooted hate against him.

"Then, since you're already nice to him, this isn't a problem. He doesn't hate you, " you shrugged, returning to your book. Silently thankful that Simon seemed to agree and drop the subject entirely.

--

"Yourboyfriendisgoingtokillme" Soap rushed out a few days later, tilting the book you were reading out of your line of vision.

Can I not have a single moment of uninterrupted reading?

"What do you mean?" You asked, bookmark placed and novel placed to the side. Eyes tracking the visibly nervous man in front of you, who was pacing while running his fingers through his hair.

"He's being nice to me. Not even normal, act like a human being, and be kind to others. He's been going easy on me, complimenting things I've done well. This isn't Ghost. This is bloody Casper!" You bit your lip, using every fiber of self-control not to smile or laugh.

Simon really took my words to heart, then?

"Unless he's dying!" Soap concluded, stopping his pacing. Concern washing over his features, eyes meeting yours with a silent plea.

Tell me I'm wrong.

"I mean, we're all dying at varying rates. But no, Simon shouldn't die any time soon, " you assured, "and I don't think he's planning on killing you. Why not take this as a win? He likes you, " you shrugged, not expecting anything to come of your suggestion.

--

"I hate it," you heard Simon call the moment he walked into your shared apartment. "I tried the being nicer than normal thing. Except Soap is being overly nice to me now. "

Why is everyone taking my advice all of a sudden?

"That's what friends do, love. They be nice to one another, " you smirked, as your boyfriend rolled his eyes.

"We're teammates. No friends in this line of work"

"No, I think you're friends, by definition" you teased, watching your boyfriend roll his eyes once more and turn to leave, muttering a soft fuckin' 'ell under his breath. Your stomach ached from the laughter racking your body.

"No, don't go! Tell me about the friends you made at work today!"

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221

[korereapers]

Don't forget: write Eddie feeding sick Jon 👀

It’s a rare occurrence, to say the least. His body starts feeling heavy, his limbs not responding to him anymore when he tries to keep working. A flask that shouldn’t be bubbling, a smell that should be putrid but just smells acrid, like cat piss.

Jonathan has to accept the inevitable. He is getting sick.

Still, he stubbornly tries to keep working, repeating the same formula, again and again, with varying results of… undeniable failure. He knows he has to stop when he almost throws the vessel against the wall, wrath filling him frustratingly, being built without him really noticing.

He sighs, trying to calm himself down. He can just try and lie down a little, let his eyes rest. Or, he could actually do the sensible thing and go upstairs, to his bed. Their bed. He sighs again, but for reasons he would never admit out loud. Not unless he is in a particular good mood, which he isn’t.

But yeah, going to bed. That would mean having to deal with Edward. Edward and his worried expression. Edward and his pampering. He gets tired only by thinking about it.

Still, he still has to be reasonable. Leave the subject in the basement, barely conscious, ragged breaths after Jonathan’s infamous treatment. He knows it’s bad, because he feels himself unable to feel joy when he looks at their eyes, bloodshot and blurred, tired of crying.

“Ah, don’t be sad. You’ll die soon, it will be over before you know it.”

He is pretty sure that they cannot hear him anymore, but he tries nevertheless. It’s not that he enjoys it when his victims die, but this time… well, it was bound to happen.

The stairs seem endless as he ventures upstairs, almost collapsing as soon as he gets to the living room. Edward is there, reading a book that Jonathan fails to recognize. He raises a dark eyebrow, Jonathan’s hands desperately gripping the table. He is pretty sure that he has a fever.

“You look like shit,” is everything Edward says, but he gets up nevertheless, offering him his arm and shoulder. And God, Jonathan would love to answer, but he is lucky he is still conscious, his ears burning, his head pounding. He inhales a little, the smell of Edward’s cologne filling his nostrils. It’s comforting, even. It’s home.

He doesn’t really register crashing against the bed. Suddenly the world becomes a little bit more comfortable, but everything feels heavy, and before he knows it, he is fast asleep.

Until he isn’t.

His nostrils feel a little clogged, but he still can smell… something. Something good. He realizes that he feels ravenous, so he opens his eyes with an expression that is probably a little too desperate, because Edward snorts slightly, a bowl of what seems to be warm soup between his hands.

So of course, Jonathan says the most reasonable thing.

“There is a dead body in our basement.”

Edward blinks slowly, his beautiful eyes shining in what seems to be disgust for just a second. It’s Jonathan’s turn to smile. He loves to creep him out.

“Okay, that’s a problem for later, I guess.”

This time, Jonathan laughs, his throat hoarse, his body tired, but he still does. That’s something he loves about Edward. He is a natural at making him laugh.

“Hey, be nice! I made soup for you.”

Jonathan is still smiling tiredly when he manages to speak.

“What kind of soup, if I may ask?”

It’s Edward’s turn to smile.

“That is, of course, the riddle you have to solve tonight.”

Jonathan groans, trying to sit up, his body failing him miserably. Edward laughs, one of his warmed up hands gently caressing Jonathan’s hair.

“Let me feed you.”

“What am I, a baby? Am I a baby, Edward?”

Edward purses his lips.

“Stop behaving like one, then. Eat. Sleep. Behave like a human being.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The soup turns out to be, unsurprisingly, incredibly good. Edward’s culinary talents shine even for the simplest things. And Jonathan may be no connoisseur, but the taste and warmth root into his body and heart as Edward keeps feeding him, spoon after spoon. He then realizes Edward wanted to do this. He wants to do this, and more, for him. He feels useful to Jonathan, he loves the attention he is getting, Jonathan’s approval.

He smiles mischievously, or well, as mischievously as someone being fed soup while sick can be.

“A penny for your thoughts, Jon?”

He loves the way his name sounds when Edward says it like that.

“Just thinking about the dead body,” he lies shamelessly. Edward makes a face, and sick or not, Jonathan considers that a win.

[sandandlightning]

My Recent Personal Spiritual Journey

When I started this blog, I had strongly identified as a Kemetic pagan for some years. Before that an eclectic pagan, and before that just sort of generically ‘pagan’ as I was first trying to sort religion out for myself. Regardless of the label, Set had been the god I was closest to since I was a school kid.

I was in a good place spiritually when I was posting. In a way my attempts to share my knowledge was an offering in and of itself. I wanted to help others like me, especially since I always felt isolated as a solitary practitioner. I originally fell off due to things just getting busy and my health being what it is, but I found it even harder to pick up the pieces here after having a crisis of faith.

I still consider myself under the pagan umbrella, I don't think I will ever not fall under it, but I’ve certainly returned to my eclectic roots. 

The harsh reality is that pagan spaces can become extremely cliquey. Most of us are neurodivergent, disabled, queer- societal outcasts in one form or another. I think a great number of us have a strong desire to find a community where we feel like we belong. It's a natural human instinct, we're pack animals at heart. The stakes are so high trying to find safe religious spaces, not only is there all of this baseline social anxiety, but you are interacting with something that is so personal and vulnerable.

Obviously, no religion is without problematic radicals. Neo Nazis and racists trying to coopt heathenry is a well known problem. And maybe, compared to that, things I have experienced aren't nearly as harrowing. (Not that, unfortunately, I have never run into those kind of so-called heathens). Paganism, especially any reconstructionist avenues, is wrought with gatekeeping and elitism. And that's not even considering the fact you have a few, marginalized, under funded individuals trying to hold together groups with rubber bands and duck tape, doing their best but unable to maintain spaces as much as they want or know is necessary.

Particularly my experiences with kemetic spaces has been… unpleasant. And worst of all, this oftentimes has to do with my closeness to Set. It is very strange in all honesty, because unlike most who have experienced their religious trauma at the hands of a conservative Christian family, mine has always been at the hands of others in the community. Which, of course, to those who have had to deal with the worst of Christianity my heart goes out to you, my personal experiences in no way are meant to belittle your own. But I have to address it, because there is this particularly unique hell of getting kicked out of the space for people with Unusual Beliefs for having a belief that is Too Unusual.

Which was always frustrating, because I did not think my own beliefs were particularly radical. I simply subscribed to old kingdom and upper Egyptian theological structure. But those aren't the popular ones, and I have outright had kemetic spaces react to my veneration of Set with the same vehemence a conservative Christian grandmother might to their goth grandchild wearing something ‘satanic’. 

And sadly, those were actually the easier cases to deal with. Because while I didn't agree, at least everyone was up front about not agreeing, and about how they viewed things. I could remove myself quickly and move on. But a lot of places Want To Be Cool but Still Get Weird Around Set. And even if they try to be nice, there is a lot of internalized demonization of my deity around others that becomes hard to navigate. It's the micro transgressions and off handed comments. I am all for irreverence, I worship a trickster, but sometimes there are lines that get crossed and it's so hard to vocalize why things became uncomfortable. I don't know how to explain why jizz in salad jokes are funny but brother murdering jokes aren't. And sometimes when I try to express discomfort I just get met with a passive aggressive, ‘well that's what happens when you follow a problematic god, get used to it.’ It's incredibly alienating.

Some people have been so nice. Even if they don't agree with something, they try their hardest. They are clear and say, ‘hey, we're sorry we don't exactly agree or follow the same things, we won't be able to change or accommodate certain things, but we honestly are not bothered by your personal beliefs and you are welcome to stay.’ but for everyone 1 of them there are 5 in the same coven or community who are in fact bothered and hide it poorly, only even trying because they know it's Not Allowed to be exclusionary. And those people become an insurmountable hurdle to reach the kind ones. Or, in the end, even if someone is being kind and accepting, there is still that underlying feeling of still not quite feeling like you belong or fit in. Which isn't their fault, and makes me feel like I'm being petty. In the end I’d have to give up one way or another.

Some people have gatekept in exceptionally nitpicky ways. I remember following some persons blog who rather loudly venerated Wsir and Set side by side. They dealt with constant clap back from a lot of people I had to deal with too. People would just tell me that Aset and Wsir simply Would Not Like Me for my relation with Set. That narrative isn't really how I experience polytheism at all, nor in many cases is it necessarily ‘historically accurate’ (tho it is on occasion, and those people cite those instances feverently). It is the same feeling as having a radical, extremist Christian tell you Jesus hates you for being gay despite the fact that realistically that's not in the Bible. 

That's why, despite feeling close to many Egyptian ideas, and in a world with many deities the ones I felt closest to hailed from Kemet, attempts to double down on kemetic practice always backfired spectacularly. My interpretations of Ma'at I would find to be different from others in a way that, frankly, made me feel some people were wholly unethical. Religion is a foundation of morality for many, and so when I look for my fellows for assurance that, in this abrahamic ruled world, I am not a bad person as I am often condemned, it is so, so damaging when those who I thought were my peers turn around and say that I am a radical, and my ideation is not valid. That I am wrong, not just factually, but morally.

My ties to old gods are because I do not particularly understand or endorse moral trends that have been propagated by abrahamic dominance and born of a corrupt world struggling through late stage capitalism. Some or more generically accepted began ideas, like sex positivity and queer friendliness. I find purity culture particularly loathsome. I live off the land, and don't think enough people understand or appreciate the circle of life, have looked their dinner in the eyes while it still breathes, understand that their hands are not necessarily clean just because they are an end consumer who did not personally kill something, or that slaughtering an animal for food is something that can be done respectfully and should be acknowledged. The latter bits are obviously where I start to lose people. A lot of new age folk enforce a buddhist based pacifist nature which I find entirely commendable on its own, but struggle to interact with when it is projected onto unlike pantheons. I suppose in a way, it comes down to being frustrated that many are allowed to cherry pick ideas from different cultures to form their beliefs, but if I am not picking the ‘popular’ ones I am simply wrong.

As an eclectic I have never had a problem with people picking and choosing ideas and themes that resonate with them, mind you. It's something that has more historical basis than how most reconstructionists try to section things off. But the hypocrisy and double standard are frustrating nonetheless.

One particular complaint I would get from kemetic circles more often or not was that I was a leftist, or left hand path pagan, and they weren't comfortable with that. I have known about left hand path worship since I was a child, but I never particularly thought the label fit me. The core left hand path idea in satanic pursuit is ‘worship of the self’, which was not how I practiced. I was wholly theistic. But Set has long since been identified with the satanic church, and many people less familiar with leftist ideals look at Set and Loki and every other ‘problematic’ or demonized deity and throw their worshipers into that category by default.

It was particularly frustrating when this became twisted into an implication that such practice made me selfish or self serving in a problematic way, which frankly, is just insulting to true Satanists who I have always found to be lovely people. I am not even sure I can correctly vocalize this phenomena sufficiently. I suppose one common issue is the implications that by trying to share my take on something, people would get defensive and push back like I was trying to change their minds. Even if they are the one who asked the question, if the answer is too far from what is expected they become uncomfortable. I suppose it's because, like me, they are looking for that assurance and sense of community. Not everyone who has done this is doing so maliciously and I realize, but it still hurts for everyone involved and is frustrating, hense an inclination to simply remove myself and find a place I do fit in, as lonely as the journey has been.

But after the last failed attempt to integrate with a Kemetic ground ended in disaster I finally said fuck it. If everyone is going to say I am a left hand path pagan, let's actually look into flavors of satanism, let's try it. At least the people there won't be so frustrating to be around.

It was a particularly harrowing experience, that last Kemetic group. I had turned to my religion after a lot of traumatic, unfortunate events in my life. I had lost most of my support system, finally thrown aside by the last of my family for being trans, my health was getting worse, the only thing I could do was pray. And everyone was inviting at first, but it was all so… performative. That ‘i have to be nice to you because I want to be seen as nice' behavior, when it was obvious people didn't agree fundamentally with many things I had to say. There was a lot of petty mean girls drama that didn't even have to do with religion, honestly, but the lack of morality from people who supposedly have the same foundation as you is maddening. They were ‘pro Set’ but they still practiced osirian mysteries and became Very Weird About Him around those times. It was a mix of people trying earnestly to be inclusive and people being annoyed at my presence. I don't subscribe to be slaying of Wsir myth, and was assured that was ‘okay’, and that other people agreed, but it is still hard when I can't seem to find those people, and when it was time to talk about those myths my value as a member of a community was just left by the wayside. I don't by any means expect them to stop participating in festivals that are important by any means, but given how large the group was, given how many supposed other Sethian practitioners there were, it was hard not to feel forgotten and ignored. A ‘and if you don't participate in this, why don’t you have fun with this other thing’, a quick shout out, a simple acknowledgement that not everyone participated in those festivals would have done a lot. Trying to ‘be the change I wanted to see’ did not end well, people did not take kindly to me trying to reach out to and organize things for the other Sethians. There wasn't much winning.

I came to feel uncomfortable around Aset, Heru, and Wsir. Which was particularly frustrating, because I had been close to Heru in the past. But the doubling down on certain narratives, the hive mind interpretation of how those gods behaved being so different from what I saw and experienced, it became too hard to go against the grain. I tried expanding with more obscure deities that were less concretely written in thebgroup. I became close to Neith and Khnum and Serkert, I focused on the esna traditions, something I predominantly had the pleasure of learning about because of sources from the group! But no one else particularly followed them, and so I was left alone again.

There was a common conundrum in the group, something I did also personally experience but dealt with- shockingly- in a different way than most. It's the age old, ‘well, this ancient calendar from this part of the world with an entirely different set of seasons doesn't line up with the Gregorian one at all!’ conundrum. A lot of paganism is nature based, a lot of pagans really like that connection, and it's had when working with a culture or pantheon where nature doesn't line up with the practice. Even more so with a culture that doesn't have as much, or as popularly known, rituals or practices for certain ‘popularly pagan'bthings. Like lunar cycles. Personally, moon stuff I just kept separate and interacted with in a very eclectic sense. It was never a super big focus for me, compared to a wiccain let's say. Lots of people here though really wanted big lunar stuff in a solar focused religion. I mean, go nuts! Have fun with Djehuty and Khonsu. But they sort of… wanted to push everyone else into doing that, and that was where it became awkward. Besides that there was just, a lot of disconnect on how to handle the reality of our seasons vs the ancient calendar we followed. No one really liked to talk about or acknowledge it as an issue outside of vague complaints. I personally also follow the wheel of the year, because it is designed for a modern calendar, and spent a lot of time trying to work out what Kemetic deities would make the most sense to be venerated on which of those days. It seemed a bit odd to me most people were more concerned with full moon rituals than Mabon or Litha, and I felt pretty solitary in holidays I adopted specifically because they were ‘mainstream’. A bit of a personal problem I realize, but it was another straw in the camel's back.

But I've digressed a fair bit. The point being I took a few dozen hints and ultimately left, not wanting to waste energy around people who caused me stress and feeling utterly shattered by a loss of faith. I felt so alone and lost. My gods had been twisted in my mind into something they weren't. I felt constantly ashamed and worried I was causing them offense, with perhaps the sole exceptions of Set and Anpu. I did not know where else to go, so I turned to pantheons yet untapped and unexplored. I went to the place people kept assuming I belonged, thinking maybe they were right and I just misunderstood the concept.

I certainly had not, but I found a much more rich and diverse and organized ecosystem within left hand path faiths. I certainly did not feel, theistic focused as I am, that I fit in with many different flavors of satanism (but again, no offense to them, you all are absolutely lovely, you keep on living your best lives.) but there were theistic forms of satanism that seemed more fitting to my cup of tea. And, as stated before, Set was already venerated in a lot of Satanic churches. This sometimes made me feel uncomfortable, because in my understanding of Set, he and Satan or Lucifer or whichever incarnations did not share a lot in common. I disliked the idea of a Christian narrative being forced on an old god on principle. But what I found were reasons for his veneration that were honestly a lot more in line with my own beliefs and upg and not simply because ‘bad guy god go here.’ it was his championing of individualism, the chaotic nature of nature itself, and free will, luciferian ideals to be sure but approached from surprisingly historically appropriate sources and not at all monotheized narratives. There is obviously some level of ‘well we are adopting him because he has been labeled as problematic’ but they took the time to understand intricacies of his teachings and not just copy paste some ideas onto him. For the first time in a long time, I saw other people look at his aspect as a war god and interpret it as I had, ‘you should speak up for fight for what you believe, you have a right to fight tooth and nail to exist in this word, it is more ethical to fight against injustice you see than be a bystander.’ This patroning of ‘war’ was not just a traditional one fought with spears and blood, but the embodiment of a fighting spirit to push back and make the change you want to see in the world with the tools whatever society you are in sees fit. I finally began to feel less alone.

I have become exceptionally close to Lucifer, and I really shouldn't be surprised. I was always wary to approach him, to approach certain aspects of Satanism as though it was simply signing myself up for too much. Not in a particularly Christian narrative induce way, (not that living in a Christian country wants a factor, of course) but in the same way that I whole heartedly respect the All Father but will not go near him with a ten foot pole. It was a can of worms I was afraid of opening, but apparently needlessly so. 

As an enjoyer of myth and theology in general, I had done my fair share of research on demonology and abrahamic angelic hierarchies purely from a scholarly point of view. It was not my religion, but it was fascinating nonetheless. But those ideas I consumed in my youth shaped me more than I thought, and I now fully believe several such entities have been watching over me since childhood, patiently waiting for me to be ready to listen and accept them into my life. Leviathan, particularly, I have also become close to and can in hindsight see so many instances of his influence and protection in my life. 

As I continued down a rabbit hole exploring a tangle of satanic, pagan, and left hand umbrellas I eventually arrived at the more recently coined, but longly practiced demonalatory. The Goetia was quite popular here, and that was something my previous demonology research had well equipped me for! I did not feel so grossly like I was starting over, just applying knowledge I had had for decades and applying it in new ways. 

What really won me and caused me to double down was the community I found. I have not reached out much, I am an anxious individual on a good day, but I could see even just looking from a distance how different things were. Everything was so much more courteous. People went out of their way to actually shut down gatekeeping when it was seen. People linked their references in a way that wasn't condescending or assuming it was an end all be all truth. Eclecticism was encouraged! Books I read literally told me ‘dont like these hierarchies? Make your own! Feel it with your heart.’ People actually take this advice seriously and respect others. People have the fucking capacity to go ‘man, that isn't the aspect of that entity that I persieve or interact with, but yours is so valid, these are all multi faceted beings.’ they are beginner friendly, actually beginner friendly, with dozens of archived and organized posts to help explain things from different authors and perspectives. Even posts telling people they shouldn't worry if there is a big ‘fad’ happening when they join and they shouldn't take it to heart or as gospel. Encouraging questioning everything and meaning it. Intellectual discussion without 50 ‘well actuallys’, a community where everyone is actually treated as equal and no one person becomes venerated as some defacto priest. It is lovely.

Per advice given, I decided to work out my own mini patheon of central deities, demons, and entities, working with those I had a connection with before and seeing how things went. Honestly, a lot of this was because I would look at certain quarter ruler arrangements and go ‘I mean yeah, Lucifer, Belial, and Leviathan? Those be the classics. But while I am sure you're lovely Feloreus, I have literally never heard of you before and the one of these things is not like the other energy is just not the vibe.’ I have since substituted him with Ashtaroth as the fire elemental, but I'll talk more about that later.

Bune was the first I interacted with. Their sigil was something I first saw in an anime when I was 5 for a deity that was effectively a DnD lesser god. Much later in life I had a moment where I joked I ‘was connecting dots that were never meant to be connected’ when doing some Goetia research for a more recent anime made me recognize the sigil from my childhood favorite show. I quickly developed a favorite goetic demon, even if it was at the time from a secular place. Ultimately, I found a lot of connections from my childhood and felt closer to them than ever. They were another ‘red’ entity like Set, and they became something of my liaison as I explored with others.

In an attempt based purely in desperation, I had turned to Ipos after determining he seemed to be the most qualified to help with my anxiety. He was exceptionally soothing and familiar, the latter of which was strange. Further down the research hole what do I find? A fairly unanimous conclusion that Ipos is the corrupted, demonized representation of Anpu in early Christianity. Fucking bet.

This was delightful on so many layers. For one, it was fascinating to see a very different game of linguistic telephone and see how Ipos, in a way, was far closer to original translations and transliterations of Anpu than the romanized Anubis. I found, and have found with every deity I have since attempted to ‘reverse engineer' in this way, that the understanding of this entity passed down by word of mouth was far more inline not only with my personal interpretation and upg, but with how original Egyptian text described when you scrub out all of the 17th century white British Christian nonsense that archeology is laden with. Even pagan scholars, try as they might, have a hard time removing things that have been treated as fact for so long, seeing bias that is ingrained in our society. This was like some magical, isolated, uncorrupted source of information. Which well, there has certainly been corruption, especially from 17th century white British Christian nonsense even though it was from an occultist's hand rather than an archeologist’s and arguably therefore less severe, but it felt so much more genuine than so many takes of reconstructionists. It was more sparse, but that lack of need to methodically fill in the gaps kept the information that was there a bit less twisted. Kept further from the public eye, the layers of whitewashing that needed to be scrubbed away were significantly less. 

Rather than a small window into a glorious past that seems unattainable, I feel like I have found the long path the gods have walked to where they sit in this world today.

While demonalatory comes in heavily theistic flavors it comes in many more secular ones as well, as is unsurprising given its satanic roots. I have found many ‘traditionally witchy’ pagan practices that are sometimes just awkwardly pasted over the base pantheons and practices to fit with a wider crowd and modern understanding have much stronger roots here- or at least have been settled into a nest much more carefully and integrated with forethought. And besides that I have found so many of those ideas cited in Egypt! Some of which I knew, others I didn't. It was so strange, knowing I had spent years studying Egyptian myth and practice and ideas, only to find so many fundamental traditions originated there despite being forgotten by the reconstructionists. Alchemy began in Egypt I knew, but I found so many better sources, so many specific little things I didn't realize were a part of the alchemy umbrella because they have become so unanimously adopted by modern secular witchcraft elements such as astronomy they are treated as a modern idea not rooted in tradition and cut out of their origin. Metals especially were fascinating, especially with so much corroboration from isolated far east cultures. People talk about Egypt, and talk about how Egypt was influenced, and talk about how Egypt influenced others instead of trying to put things in a vacuum. I was delighted.

Set, of course, had his own fun with all this. I did have anxiety and general existential dread at what felt like simply jumping religions after decades. Would he be mad I was so close to these other gods and demons where I had failed to be close to any of his siblings? Would it upset him if I redesigned the altar he was the center of? Would he feel like the odd one out over time?

Sitri was a goetic demon that was a favorite go to of mine for using in fiction. I had done lots of research on him earlier in my life than with Bune. You think the leopard imagery would have been a hint. 

A good meditation of being trolled by your patron with lots of sad farewell songs coming on only for the tone to shift abruptly and you start to realize, wait a minute. And sure enough, like with Ipos and Anpu, there was a general consensus that Sitri is Set. I could feel him laughing, but it was the closest I had felt to him in a long time, and I was finally at some semblance of peace.

I personally view his aspect as Sitri as particularly doubling down on the ‘patron god of the gay’ aspect, but that is a fair amount of upg. 

I have taken to trying to document as many ‘original identities’ of traditional goetic and other popular demons as I can, something I feel a bit uniquely equipped to pursue given my background (not that there aren't others in the same boat I'm sure.) I've made a lot of personal discoveries and latched on to many more of others. While not as absolute as some have found, enough etymology telephone could place our fire deity Feloreus as an aspect of Heru, so no wonder I had felt a bit awkward after my recent divine falling out. Ashtaroth (which I have taken to preferring over Astaroth) is unquestionably Ishtar and the many many different diets in the area she shares roles with. I will do a fun post on some of the etymology later, but it is where we get Ostara and apparently validated some upg of her and Lucifer being close.

Which is ironic, because I have always felt drawn to Ishtar but struggled to approach. Now having the correct avenue, it has become easy. In terms of Egypt I personally identify her most with Hat-Hor opposed to Aset. I suppose that is my old kingdom inclination, as I feel like the original ideal of Aset is much further off from her, unlike the new kingdom nigh monotheistic Aset which was much closer. Particularly the idea of Hat-Hor and Sekhmet as two faces of the same entity speaks to Ishtar for me personally. I had some closeness with Hat-Hor, certainly the closest I was to a goddess, but things still sometimes felt clunky. This now is all more natural. 

But most importantly I don't feel like I have abandoned my gods, just found a better avenue with which to communicate with them and accepted a few more into my inner circle. But it was all a long, complicated, tedious process that is not easy to explain so I have written this unholy novella to try to. Not that I have ever been particularly skilled at being concise. 

I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. I think I had really begun to internalize things about my religion that were at odds with my own internal processes and unhealthy, even if it was little things like starting to feel self conscious about what types of clothes I wore. All the parts of witchcraft that are important to me feel so cohesive now, my calendar is no longer an unsolvable conundrum that always ends in me feeling on the sidelines, but something a nice mix of traditional and tailored that I think is much more palatable to the new crowd I have found. 

The unfortunate result is for the first time in my life considering something of a broom closet. A post about aroace rage I once read articulated the feeling well, that they aren't a ‘socially acceptable easy to digest ace who wants to be all lovey dovey’, I feel like I am no longer a ‘socially acceptable, easy to digest pagan'. I am not a quirky witch who worships nature and flowers and gods you learned about in public school in a way that is strange but exotic and intriguing. I have befriended the devil even if I do not see him as such, I fall under a satanic umbrella of some kind even if I am not entirely sure the label fits, or what label does fit. I am now no longer simply standing in a place that a fair number of Christians would see as about as confusing as Hinduism or other non abrahamic religions, but something in technicality in direct opposition to it. Not that there aren't always radical Christians who are quick to assume any flavor of witchy endeavors is satanic and by satanic they assume you are sacrificing goats. But I feel like I am over a line, I am no longer ‘passing’, a feeling I have had to contend with through transitions and sexuality and race that I don't particularly relish having to again. Not that there's much to be done for it. In the end it susses out the assholes of the world quick, which in a way so exactly what I was asking for, but I still have a fear in the back of my head, the same one that an unforgiving neighbor will try to vandalize my house for the same way I always have due to my sexuality or gender. You think living with the fear that long I'd be used to it but no. I am just… suddenly self conscious about talking about religious anything in public, thinking to hard about every joke or creative swear, hyper conscious that should someone recognize the sigils I have drawn on my arm to try and calm my nerves and repair my health that they may turn against me without warning and with extreme prejudice, openly berate me while I mind my own business.

But as I said it is technically what I asked for. I would rather be able to see my enemies clearly than continue to have them masquerade as my friends. 

A more depressing note than I intended to end on, but one I felt compelled to share all the same. I think it is important to address the hard things. And really, I am much happier now. I feel more centered, I feel like I understand myself and the world around me better. I feel heard and I feel included rather than alone. Not that it isn't lonely sometimes, there aren't really any local pagan groups in the area, but then again 90% of ‘the area’ is corn and soy so that's unsurprising. There's actually a lovely pagan apothecary in the closest city! And with any luck I will be able to sell some consigned goods there.

All of this is, in the end, besides a lengthy meandering confession of sorts I suppose, a lengthy and meandering explanation for a change in direction for this blog. I'll make some more, significantly more succinct posts about some things in the future, but for now I give you the full story as to why things are so different.

I intend to keep what has been posted archived and available. My compulsion to share myself and my spirituality is, besides wanting to feel connected, rooted in some ways in a desire to help and to share and put things out there because if I don't, who will? As a Sethian, the idea of deleting existing content in an attempt to present uniformity and professionalism is just nonsensical. Change happens, Set is about embracing change, and hiding my own change certainly won't do any good for myself or the world at large. If nothing else I hope other, younger pagans see this and take away ‘its okay to try something new and go somewhere else, no matter how long it's been.’ In a similar vein, I am absolutely happy to continue to discuss any Egyptian ideas, from upg I have had, currently had, to historical sources I have showered and have under my belt. If something I have or know can help you with what you're doing, going through, or trying to understand I am more than happy to share!