#mapping of natural ability and natural types

[kentnaturaltribrid]

From left to bottom:

Left Top- Original Map, Mapping 1

Right Top- Mapping 2 & 3

Bottom Left- Pyranoliacs Mappings, Mappings 4

Bottom Right- Pavronoliacs Mappings, Mapping 5

Each map contains also following categories of Visible, Invisible, and Hidden in the order of the mapping levels and various variants of mapped abilities.

[mortalityplays]

I know you have all probably seen the esims for gaza posts circulating. Some of you have probably looked at them and thought maybe you should help out, but have weighed up the daunting process of signing up for something you're unfamiliar with vs. the gut-wrenching scale of the things people are going through on the ground right now, and you've put it off or questioned whether it will make enough of a difference vs. some other future kind of activism you could put that $6+ towards. I'm not calling you out or scolding you, it is natural to feel conflicted and ambivalent about the multiple calls for aid that you are seeing on social media.

but consider this: what would you do if you suddenly had to leave your home? how would you cope? how would you begin to plan where to go next, or figure out what to do to take care of yourself? most likely you would reach reflexively for your phone.

telecoms access is not a petty luxury in 2024. a loaded esim means the ability to call family members and find out where they are and whether they're safe, and whether they need anything you can provide for them. it means access to maps and regular updates on the situation unfolding around you. it means you can look up whether it's safe to drink rain water, or how to tie a type of knot you've never had to think about before, or how to treat an injury without medical supplies. it means the ability to tell people outside the situation what you are seeing, what you are feeling, what you are thinking. it is an absolutely crucial resource. and it starts at $6 for 7 days.

many many people have observed that internet access is changing the way the world understands genocide. internet access is life or death, and it is shaping modern history in front of you. and it starts at $6 for 7 days.

please, please visit gazaesims.com and spend 5 minutes and $6 to change the way this plays out for everyone.

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝓘𝓯 𝓘 𝓦𝓪𝓼 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭…☆━━━━━━━…‥・

Pairing: Main!Mark Grayson x f!Reader

Warnings: A little suggestive, nothing too crazy

Tags: Fluff, kind of obsessed, little bit of foot worship lmao

Word Count: 4,695 (got a little carried away - didn't mean for it to be this long lol)

Inspiration: “If I Was Your Girlfriend” – Prince

Synopsis: Mark just needs to be close to you dammit and he can’t stand that you’ll be that way with your girl friends but not him >:(

Mark had never been the jealous type.

When the other kids on his baseball team would hit homeruns as a child, he would just cheer loudly; happy for their success and never once weighing them against his own shortcomings. In school, if his friends aced a test he would smile warmly and give them an encouraging pat to the back – even if he himself had barely managed to pull off a C+. He never viewed others as competition, truly believing there was enough goodness and success in this world to go around.

So why, then, did he so often now find himself leering at your friends?

You all were apart of the same clique in high school, eating lunch together and mingling in the halls between classes. The girls of the group, however, naturally seemed to gravitate toward one another, their conversations often filled with hushed chatter and occasional high-pitched giggles as the sweet smell of candy and flowers lingered in the air around them. It was both intoxicating, and intimidating.

He’d sit with William, only a few feet away but feeling like he might as well have been on the other side of the planet. And to make matters worse, William seemed to have the ability to easily flow between conversations – talking with Mark one minute then turning out of nowhere towards the feminine energy, picking up on something in the girl’s discourse that piqued his interest. They’d welcome his input, it always seeming to inevitably end in a chorus of laughter. How the hell did William do that? And why couldn’t Mark do the same?

Through the muddled noises of the girl’s tittering together, Mark always managed to single out your voice. It called to him like a siren’s song, his eyes lingering on the side of your perfect face as you smiled, lips parted and eyes closed. God, you were so perfect.

Occasionally, he’d find some buried courage within himself to try and join in the laughter – sliding a bit closer in your direction as he chuckled unsurely. And every time, the groups giggles would quickly die away, suddenly everyone seeming to need to clear their throats and look away. But not you. Your smile would linger as you turned your beautiful eyes onto him, leaving Mark struck dumb.

Most days though he would just watch from the outside as you all conversed together, his stare growing heavy as he looked between the other girls. Why were they all so greedy? Wasn’t Mark allowed in on the fun too? He wanted to laugh, dammit, and be in on the joke with you. In fact, he wanted you to laugh at his joke for once, and curl your lips upward because he said something that you liked. Was that really too much to ask for?

His internal struggle only seemed to worsen as he graduated high school and you both moved on to college. He was over the moon when he found out the two of you shared a class – introductory to physical geography. Mark was notoriously bad with this subject, and for once that seemed to work in his favor as study sessions became the new norm between the two of you.

And that brought him to where he sat today, cross-legged on your dorm room floor surrounded by textbooks, maps, and a heap of highlighters.

Your space was cozy, warm with the soft glow of a desk lamp accompanied by the quiet hum of music in the background. You were laid on your stomach across the bed, flipping through notes with a furrowed brow as you lost yourself in the studies.

Mark glanced up from the textbook in his lap, but his eyes didn’t land on the topographic map he was supposed to be memorizing. Instead, they found you.

You were chewing on the end of a pen, brows drawn together as you underlined something in your notebook. You looked tired—but beautiful. God, even the way your foot swung lazily in the air behind you had him captivated. He wasn’t even sure he was blinking anymore.

“You okay?” you asked suddenly, not looking up.

His heart jumped. “Huh? Yeah. Totally. Why?”

You finally lifted your head to look at him, and it took everything in him not to melt under your gaze. “You’ve been staring at the same page for, like, five minutes.”

“Oh.” He chuckled nervously and looked back down at the map, heat rising to his cheeks. “Guess I’m just... zoning out.”

You hummed, rolling onto your side so you could face him properly. “Want me to quiz you on drainage patterns again?”

He groaned theatrically and flopped back onto the floor, covering his eyes with one arm. “Not the drainage patterns…”

You laughed—really laughed—and he felt it bloom inside him like warmth from a sunbeam. It was such a rare sound, at least when he was the cause of it, that it left him stunned for a moment. He peeked out from under his arm to see you smiling, chin resting on your hand.

“What?” he asked, softer this time.

You shrugged, but your gaze didn’t leave his. “Nothing. You’re just funny sometimes.”

“Funny ‘haha’ or funny ‘weird’?”

You pretended to think for a second, then grinned. “A little bit of both.”

He grinned back, because God, that was something, wasn’t it? He could take ‘a little bit of both’ if it meant you were looking at him like that.

For a beat, neither of you said anything. The music in the background shifted to a slower track, something dreamy and low, and Mark let himself imagine—just for a second—what it would be like to move from this floor to your bed, to lay beside you and talk about the constellations or your favorite song or whether you ever thought about kissing someone like him.

And before he could stop himself, he said:

“Can I dress you?”

You blinked. “What?”

His brain practically short-circuited. “I—I mean not like that! I mean—not in a weird way! Not like… dress you-dress you. Just like, clothes. You. I mean—” He groaned and ran a hand down his face. “I heard you’re going to that concert this weekend and I thought… maybe I could help you pick out an outfit?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, clearly amused but unconvinced. “Mark… what are you even on about?”

He blinked, a little stunned by your reaction—like he’d genuinely expected you to take him seriously. You turned back to your notes, head lowering to refocus on the page.

But Mark didn’t move.

He stared for another second, then leaned forward, brows pulling together as something clenched in his chest.

“Aren’t we friends?” he asked suddenly, voice low and a little sharp around the edges.

You paused, pen halfway to the paper.

“I mean,” he went on, gesturing vaguely toward the room, the books, you, “you go shopping and hang out with your girl friends all the time. You laugh and do all this fun, random stuff with them, and no one thinks it’s weird when they pick out your outfits or tell you what shoes to wear or whatever. But I say one thing—one slightly weird thing—and suddenly it’s like I’m crazy.”

You turned your head slowly to look at him again, this time blinking in surprise.

Mark huffed, crossing his arms. “I just thought it would be fun. Like, something friends do.”

He sounded a little pouty now, and maybe he knew it, but he wasn’t backing down. Not when he’d finally gotten a tiny bit of the closeness he’d wanted for so long. Not when he could almost taste what it’d be like to be on the inside of your world, just a little more than before.

“You never let me in,” he muttered under his breath. “Not really.”

You stared at him, mouth parting like you wanted to say something—but the words didn’t come right away. The moment stretched out between you, thick and awkward and a little bit raw.

“I didn’t mean to make it weird,” Mark added quickly, voice softer now, “I just… I don’t know. I wanna know you like they know you.”

You sat up slowly, brow furrowed, clearly trying to make sense of everything he just said.

“Of course we’re friends, Mark,” you said, your voice careful but confused. “But… I mean… girls do that stuff. We help each other pick out outfits, and gossip, and vent about boy problems—”

“Boy problems??” Mark cut in, practically lurching forward.

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Are you having boy problems?” he repeated, eyes narrowing with an intensity that would’ve been comical if he didn’t look so genuinely concerned. “Is someone bothering you? Who is it? What’d he do?”

You blinked. “Wait—what? No, that’s not what I meant—”

“Because if a guy is messing with you,” he went on, his voice rising a little, “I swear I’ll—”

“Mark!” you said, loud enough to cut through his minor spiral. He froze mid-sentence, still visibly buzzing with protective energy.

You stared at him, unsure if you were about to laugh or throw a pillow at him. “Oh my god. I meant in general. Like, when girls talk to each other, that’s what we talk about. I wasn’t saying I have some guy hurting my feelings right now.”

“Oh,” he said, deflating slightly. “Right. Yeah. That makes sense. Totally.”

He looked away for a second, rubbing the back of his neck, and muttered under his breath, “...would’ve kicked his ass, though.”

You snorted despite yourself, grabbing a pillow off your bed and tossing it lightly at him. “Mark.”

He caught it with a grin that he tried to hide behind mock indignation. “What? I’m just being a good friend, remember?”

Your expression softened a little, but the confusion didn’t leave your eyes. “You’re a very… intense friend sometimes.”

Mark shrugged, half-smiling. “Guess I just like being around you more than most people.”

There it was again—that earnestness. It clung to his voice like honey. Not quite a confession, not really a joke. Just enough to leave you wondering what exactly he meant.

You gave him a look—equal parts fond and exasperated—but didn’t press the weirdness any further. The moment seemed to settle, the earlier tension dissolving into something more comfortable. You turned back toward your notes, laying flat on your stomach again, chin propped in your hand as your other foot swayed lazily in the air.

Mark watched you for a moment from the floor, half-expecting his heart to settle too. It didn’t.

His eyes drifted to your foot.

It was moving rhythmically, back and forth like it had a mind of its own. He followed it with his gaze, fixated. A quiet little thought popped into his head—uninvited, but not unwelcome.

Before he could question it, Mark stood up and made his way over to the bed. Without thinking, he sat right beside you, staring down at your foot like it had personally challenged him to a duel.

“Maybe I could paint your toenails,” he said.

You didn’t respond at first, clearly thinking you’d misheard him.

“…What?”

Mark’s hand was already around your ankle, gently lifting your foot like it was the most normal thing in the world. He looked at it thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “Yeah. I could totally do it. You have good feet for it.”

“Mark!”

He looked at you innocently. “What? I’m serious! I’ve got a steady hand. I could do, like… stripes. Or little flowers. Maybe stars? That’d be cool.”

You stared at him like he’d just offered to build you a rocket ship out of Q-tips.

“I cannot tell if you’re messing with me or having a mental breakdown in real time.”

“Can’t it be both?” he said, smirking now, still cradling your foot like it was the most natural thing ever.

You covered your face with your hands, muffling a laugh into your palms. “Oh my god.”

“What color would you go for, anyway?” he asked, gently wiggling your toes like he was already imagining the polish. “Something bright? Black? Maybe that dusty pink thing you wore last month?”

Your hands slid down your face just enough to peek at him through your fingers. “You noticed my toenail color last month?”

“I notice everything about you,” he said plainly.

And the thing was—he did. He really, truly did.

He noticed the way you scrunched your nose when you were concentrating. The way you flipped your pen between your fingers when you were trying to remember something. The way you always tugged your sleeve over your hand when the AC was too strong in the classroom.

And yeah—he noticed your feet.

It wasn’t like a thing, not really. He didn’t plan to notice them. It just… happened. Like the way your sneakers would dangle from one foot when you were sitting cross-legged, or how your toenails always seemed to be painted in these soft, thoughtful colors. Once, you’d had tiny stars drawn on your big toes, and he hadn’t been able to stop glancing at them the entire group study session.

Now he was actually holding one of those feet.

His thumb moved without him really telling it to, tracing gently along the arch, then rubbing slow circles into your heel. Your skin was soft. Warmer than he expected. And your toes were so... cute. Ridiculously cute. Delicate, even. The kind of detail he wouldn’t normally think twice about, but now it felt like he was touching something private. Sacred.

A weird warmth coiled low in his stomach, catching him off guard. He swallowed hard.

Wait.

No.

No, no, no.

He wasn’t a foot guy. He wasn’t. That wasn’t his thing. That had never been his thing.

So then why was his brain stalling? Why was his heart picking up speed like this? Why was he imagining kissing the tops of your toes and thinking it would be the most intimate thing in the entire universe?

What the hell is wrong with him?

He shifted slightly, trying to hide the rising flush in his cheeks, still absently rubbing your foot as if he hadn’t just mentally broken into an entirely new category of emotional—and maybe physical—confusion.

God. If William ever found out about this, he’d never hear the end of it.

But you weren’t pulling away. You were still laying there, letting him touch you, your shoulders gently rising and falling with your breath.

And somehow that made the heat in his chest worse. Made the moment feel heavier. Like something he wasn’t supposed to have—wasn’t even supposed to want—was suddenly right here in his hands.

Mark’s thumb brushed slowly across the top of your foot again.

You still didn’t move.

He blinked, watching your body for any kind of reaction—any twitch, any hint of discomfort. But all he could see was the slow rise and fall of your back as you laid there, face turned slightly away, quiet and calm.

And still, your foot stayed right there in his hand.

His heart skipped a beat.

Wait... is she into this?

He froze, eyes locked on your ankle like it had suddenly become a sacred object. His brain scrambled—grabbing at signs, trying to piece together the puzzle like it was some kind of test with no answer key. You weren’t pulling away. You weren’t laughing at him. You were letting it happen.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

She’s letting me touch her. She’s letting me hold her like this. Maybe—maybe she wants this?

And in a sudden wave of breathless, clumsy, Mark Grayson confidence, the kind that usually came right before he got punched in the face by a supervillain, he thought:

Just do it.

No more thinking. No more waiting.

Just do it.

He leaned in. No hesitation this time. And without another word—without asking, without explaining—he pressed his lips to your toes. A soft, warm kiss. Tender. Deliberate.

It wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t even romantic in the traditional sense. It was something else entirely—quiet and reverent, like he was thanking them for carrying you through the world, for letting him be this close, just for a second.

And when he pulled back, heart thudding in his chest, he didn’t move.

He just looked up at you.

Waiting.

Mark pulled back slowly, eyes wide and searching your face for any sign of… anything, really. He had no idea what was going on right now, but something was happening, and it was either going to go terribly wrong or way better than he had imagined.

The silence between you stretched out longer than he expected. You didn’t move—didn’t say anything—just stayed still, propped up on your arms, your foot still gently in his hand. But the weight of the moment was thick, pressing against him, making his stomach churn.

And then, slowly, like a wave crashing toward him, you turned your head.

Your eyes found his, a flicker of confusion dancing in them as you met his gaze. You didn’t say anything right away. You just looked at him, your brow furrowing slightly. Then, you parted your lips, exhaling just a little as you said, barely above a whisper, “Mark…”

His heart hammered in his chest. Oh God. Oh God, what the hell was she thinking?

He quickly glanced away, biting his lip nervously. “What? I mean… what’s the big deal? Isn’t this what friends do?”

It came out so much faster than he meant, a forced attempt at nonchalance that was painfully obvious. His eyes were wide, maybe a little too wide, but he couldn’t help it. Oh God, I can’t believe I said that.

“You know, like… helping each other out, right? With stuff. I thought… I thought you might want me to do something nice for you or whatever.” He was spiraling now, digging himself deeper and deeper. “Like, friends help each other pick out outfits or—”

But then he trailed off, realizing how insane he sounded.

Your expression didn’t change much—still that slight confusion, but now something else, too. A spark of humor? A glimmer of something else he couldn’t read?

He swallowed hard. He had no idea what to do next. His whole body was practically vibrating with the intensity of everything he’d just done.

“Well?” he managed, trying to salvage some kind of dignity. “Isn’t that what… what friends do?”

You stared at him for a beat longer, just long enough to let the silence hang heavy between you. Mark was practically sweating, looking anywhere but directly at you, and it was… almost adorable. Almost.

Then, a small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Just a hint of mischief, something playful, but not mean. You tilted your head ever so slightly, and the words tumbled out before you could stop them:

“Friends, huh?” You let the word hang in the air, slowly leaning back on your elbows. “So, you’d do this to… oh, I dunno, William?”

Mark froze, his eyes snapping to yours like he’d been slapped with cold water. His mind scrambled to catch up with your teasing tone.

“Wha—what?” he stammered, now visibly flustered. “No, I mean, not William! I—I’m just—look, it’s different with you! You’re my… my friend, and—”

You raised an eyebrow, your smirk only widening at his increasing panic. “Different, huh? So you’d kiss William’s toes? Is that what you’re saying?”

Mark’s eyes widened even further as his brain absolutely went haywire. “I—I—No! No, of course not!” he blurted, hands flailing awkwardly. “I didn’t mean—God, that’s—no, just—look, you’re—you’re different, okay?” He paused, biting his lip like he was trying to hold back an entire speech that he couldn’t quite figure out. “I just… you’re… you. And I…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

You couldn’t hold back anymore. You leaned back on your arms, grinning slyly, watching the storm inside his brain, thoroughly enjoying every second of it. Slowly, deliberately, you spread your toes apart—just a little—enough that the movement caught his eye, the stretch of your foot making the room feel even closer.

“Is it my toes you like,” you asked, voice teasing, “or maybe, is it… me?”

Mark froze.

His heart skipped a beat, then pounded loudly in his chest. He blinked rapidly, face flushed as his gaze locked on your foot once again. He could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, a mix of confusion and something else he wasn’t sure he had the courage to face.

“You—you—what—what are you—” His words faltered, his brain scrambling to make sense of your teasing tone and the way your foot had just moved. Were you playing with him? Testing him? Or were you serious?

No. No, no, no, she couldn’t be serious. This was a joke.

But his heart was thudding too loudly in his ears for him to think clearly.

The corner of your mouth twitched upwards as you leaned in just slightly, your playful smirk never fading. “Well, Mark,” you said, your voice low and almost teasing, “are you gonna answer me?”

Mark’s mind went blank. His pulse was racing. His whole body tensed, frozen in a mix of terror and need. He could feel his chest tightening as your words hung in the air, spinning in his head like some impossible puzzle he couldn’t solve.

He was spiraling.

If he didn’t answer—if he didn’t say something now, this moment, this tension, was going to stretch out forever, and it would be so much worse than just admitting it. His palms were sweating, his heart pounding in his throat.

Just say something. Anything.

His eyes flickered between your smirk and the way your foot rested in his hand. Then, without thinking—without considering how ridiculous it sounded—he blurted it out in a single breath:

“You. I like you. All of you.”

He swallowed hard, the words coming out faster than he could stop them. “Not just your toes. I mean, yeah, your toes are cute and all, but... that’s not the point! I—I like you, okay? All of you.”

The confession hung in the air like a heavy weight.

Mark’s face flushed a deep red as he realized what had just tumbled out of his mouth. He opened his mouth again, ready to apologize, or explain, or somehow unsay what he’d just said. But no words came.

Instead, he just sat there, staring at you, his eyes wide with shock and embarrassment, waiting for whatever came next.

The words hung in the air between you like a live wire, crackling with unspoken meaning. Mark was still sitting there, frozen in place, completely vulnerable, his mind still trying to process everything that had just escaped his lips. His heart was beating so fast he thought it might burst.

You didn’t say anything right away. Instead, you just watched him, your gaze intense, studying him like you could see straight through him. Your chest rose and fell, just slightly, and Mark couldn’t help but notice how close the two of you were now, the tension practically vibrating between you.

And then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, you spoke.

Your voice was quieter now, softer—but laced with something Mark couldn’t quite place. Something daring.

“Then prove it.”

Mark blinked, his stomach lurching at the words.

He felt his breath catch in his throat, his pulse spiking again. His eyes widened, and for a moment, it was like everything around him disappeared. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

All he could do was stare at you, completely caught off guard by your response.

You weren’t laughing. You weren’t shying away. You were just looking at him—waiting. Quietly, calmly, but with a certain expectation in your eyes.

The weight of your words pressed down on him like a thousand pounds.

Prove it?

His brain sputtered. What did that mean? How did he even begin to prove something like this? He could barely even comprehend what was happening right now, let alone how to react.

But deep down, he knew. He knew exactly what you were asking. And he knew—knew—there was only one way forward.

Without thinking, without hesitation, Mark leaned in closer, his hand falling away from your foot as his body instinctively moved toward you. His heart was hammering in his chest, clouded eyes never leaving yours as the tension between you both thickened with each passing moment.

He slowly crawled up the bed, inch by inch, as if his body was acting on its own, taking over, moving closer to you with a sense of inevitability. He stopped above you, staring down at the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—your hair fanned out around your head, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips looked so inviting, so right.

He swallowed hard, his arm trembling on either side of your head as he held himself up above you. But then, without thinking about it any longer, Mark leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. The contact was light, hesitant, just a test—an almost unsure kiss. He pulled away quickly, unsure of what he was doing, his heart racing in his chest. Was it too much? Too soon?

But you didn’t pull back. You didn’t shy away.

That was all he needed. His breath hitched, and before he could second-guess himself, Mark dove back into the kiss. This time, it was deeper, firmer, the hesitation melting away as he found himself falling into it, like a man starved. His lips moved against yours with increasing urgency, his hand finding your face, gently cupping it, as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

The kiss was clumsy at first, raw, desperate—Mark couldn’t help himself. He wanted you. Needed you. And you were finally here, pinned beneath him, in this moment. His body pressed against yours, his chest tight, his hands roving across your skin, his fingers trembling as he explored.

His lips parted nervously, but you immediately reciprocated – was this all a dream? His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting you like this for the first time. He couldn’t help the groan that rumbled through his chest, his hips subconsciously pressing down harder into yours. And you, in turn, back immediately painfully aware of the hard length pulsing against your inner thigh.

After a time that felt way to short in Mark’s opinion, you gently pushed him away, just enough to create some distance between you. Mark’s chest heaved as he pulled back slightly, his eyes wide, still clouded with a mix of desperation and shock. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body still buzzing with the intensity of the kiss.

His hands hovered uncertainly in the air as if they didn’t know what to do without you there. “Wait… what—what’s happening?” he gasped, his voice a little shaky, trying to make sense of what just happened.

You smiled softly, teasingly, a playful glint in your eyes as you looked up at him, enjoying the way his expression was still a mix of confusion and urgency. You let your head fall back down into the bed, your posture relaxed, while his body still felt tense, like he was poised to dive right back into it.

“Yeah,” you said with a little shrug, “that’s not what friends do, Mark.” The teasing smirk on your face only deepened, and your voice lowered into something more playful as you added, “You really gonna tell me that friends kiss like that?”

Mark blinked, looking almost flustered by the teasing, but his expression quickly morphed into something more determined—more sincere. He leaned in a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper, his words coming out with a mix of uncertainty and raw honesty.

“If the friend is you?” he said, his gaze intense, “Then God I hope so.”

[astra-ravana]

Sigil Magick: Illustrating Your Intent

Sigils are a cornerstone of contemporary and chaos magick and function as keys to unlock the doors of reality and bend it to one’s will. These potent symbols serve as physical embodiments of one’s intentions, cast into existence through the fusion of art and willpower.

The crafting of a sigil begins with a clear and focused intention, which is then worked into a unique symbol through a creative magickal process. The magick practitioner inscribes deep personal meaning and style into their designs, making each unique to its artist. Sigils are ideal tools for manifesting your desires, imbuing objects with specific purpose and energy, protecting spaces, and communicating with the spirit world and should be used responsibly.

Origins

The practice of crafting sigils traces its roots to the ancient world but was modernized in the early 20th century by the works of Austin Osman Spare, an occultist and artist. He introduced the method of creating magical symbols by condensing letters of a desire into an abstract design. Aleister Crowley, too, influenced the practice by intertwining sigils with ceremonial magick, embedding them with a rich esoteric significance.

Some occult grimoires employ sigils as a means of contacting spirits, for example; Ars Goetia, The Book of Oberon, and Pseudomonarchia Daemonum.

Basics of Sigil Magick

Sigil magick emerges from the belief in one’s ability to manifest their focus into reality. Through a process of creation, a sigil becomes much more than mere ink on paper—it is the illustrated essence of desire. Individuals can use sigils as focal points for their will, empowering these symbols through meditation or ritual to enact change. The universe of sigils is vast and varied, types of sigils include:

• Pictorial Sigils: Intuitive symbols drawn from the subconscious

• Runic Sigils: Combinations of runic alphabets that resonate with specific energies

• Word Sigils: Derived from statements of intention, where letters are crafted into a unique symbol

Correspondences also serve a purpose in this class of magick, in order to help align one's intent to universal energies. As an artist crafts their sigil, they intertwine traditional symbols with personal significance, creating a bridge to the metaphysical world. Some relevant correspondences are:

• Numerology: Numbers carry vibrations that can enhance a sigil’s purpose.

• Zodiac Signs: Celestial influences infused to fine-tune the focus.

• Elements: The classic forces of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water lend their power to sigils, grounding them in natural harmony.

Sigil Creation

Before you take pen to paper, first envision your intent with clarity and purpose This may involve some deep introspection into the true nature of your desires. A precise intention lays the foundation for the sigil's power. Once ready, write out your intention and cross out any duplicate letters. From here a couple different methods can be utilized. Naturally you could always draw your sigils from pure instinct, creating spontaneous shapes to represent your intentions, but there are other techniques available.

The Wheel

This method employs a wheel to be used as a map for drawing your sigil. Simply start at the first letter of your intent and draw lines to each subsequent letter. Example:

My Method

I make my sigils by breaking up the letters to create shapes. I will often decorate with extra shapes, symbols, and pictures as well. Here is a simplified example of my sigil creation process:

Next you must charge your sigil. Charging is the act of infusing the sigil with energy. The creator might enter a meditative state, focusing intently on the sigil while envisioning their intentions intertwining with the design. This act of focused concentration serves to embed the intention within the sigil, making it a beacon for the desired change.

Passive and Active Sigils

Intentioned sigils fall into either the passive or active sigil category based on how that sigil's energy is best utilized. Passive sigils are usually drawn on the body, item, or surface and then left alone to release their power over time. Active sigils involve some action to trigger the release of the sigil's energy, such as burning, burying, soaking with water/oil, and more. Some sigils can be used both passively and actively, but most will fall into one category.

Spirit Sigils

Many spirits and deities have sigils that represent them and these can be powerful catalysts for interacting with these beings. If the spirit you're working with doesn't have a sigil made for them (or even if they do) you can design your own symbol to connect with that spirit. Follow the same process, but instead of focusing on your intent, focus on the spirit/deity and connecting with it. You can even perform a ritual and provide an offering to invite the spirit into your space. This will allow you to draw divine inspiration straight from the source. Here are some examples of spirit/deity sigils, as well as some I created:

[kings-highway]

hotel/travel headcanons because I'm in a hotel and my feet ache and everyone in london walks like they want to get hit by a car. Shipping as per my usual, mildly sprinkled here and there.

- kageyama and hinata racing to see who can get back to the hotel room first *every single time* they are returning to their hotel room, no matter how tired they are

- type A personality Suga methodically listing through every possible restaurant they could go to for dinner, and a different kind of Type A Daichi confused because he's had their restaurant itinerary planned for weeks and knows exactly where they're going.

- Asahi keeps stopping to offer to take pictures for other families on vacation so their Mom can be in them too

- Karasuno Third years traveling and Kiyoko is in charge of the camera and taking all their photos and she's having such a good time until after a few days Suga gets ahold of the camera and realizes she is just such a shitty photographer. Blurry, off centre, weirdly framed. Terrible. Suga bans her from photos and gives the camera to Asahi instead.

- on that note, Asahi takes fantastic photos.

- yachi also takes really, really good photos but she always panics and takes like 30 every time

- Daichi tries out a different morning coffee shop each day and reports back to the others ranking them. They all kind of love this weird morning routine and look forward to finding out if this morning will be better or worse than the previous despite the fact that he is the only coffee drinker among them.

- Kageyama and Hinata are terrible planners and never book anything ahead but Hinata's ability to make friends makes up for it. "oh no hotels in a 30 kilometer radius have vacancy? No worries, my new friend Paul says we can sleep in their guestroom."

- somehow Hinata hasnt ended up murdered but Kageyama is skeptical his luck will hold

- Karasuno Third Years are team "we walk for 2 hours between every destination to explore the city on foot" and the Karasuno Second Years are team "we have Uber'd everywhere and don't regret it" and hear the third years' travel stories and are horrified by how much ground they cover on foot.

- Noya is weirdly pretentious about only going to local "real" places and avoiding tourist traps and everyone has to tell him to shut up by the 4th or 5th site they see.

- Yamaguchi is so afraid of foreign cops that it starts looking like he's genuinely committed a crime. Tsukki has to constantly tell him to calm down if they pass one but "Tsukki I don't know the laws of this city what if we're breaking them right now-"

- Tsukki is the designated "speaker" of the first years when checking into hotels or other reservations, and has an uncanny knack for picking up languages, meaning by the end of just a couple of days in a foreign country he can do basic greetings and questions.

- on that, Tsukki always rolls his eyes and pretends like it's such a hassle having to do all the talking, sign reading and map navigation but he secretly kinda likes being a bit like a tour leader for them and being able to herd them around and take care of them.

- Kageyama got banned from trying to pick up languages naturally after he accidentally called an old lady something horrible

- Oikawa and Iwa take a selfie together outside every famous sit or historical building, and they always look great. These two are like the poster children for aesthetic traveling. The wind always makes them look perfect, the lighting is always clear.

- Oikawa and Iwa send a perfect photo back to Makki and Mattsun, who in return send the most fucked up off centre, badly lit selfie you could imagine with their middle fingers up

- Seijoh 4 stay out way too late and get lost at night. Thankfully none of them are "panickers" but it really highlights how important it is for at least one person to panic a little bit. It'll be 1 am and they're still standing on the side of the road 12 blocks from their hotel like "ahaha isn't this silly?" and then start walking in the wrong direction

- Iwa once got really sick on a trip and had to spend the day at the hotel, but when he was feeling better he went down to the hotel restaurant and met a celebrity and nobody believed him.

- Seijoh 4 are the guys who make way too much noise in hotel hallways

- Kunimi and Kindaichi did their first abroad travel together and it went surprisingly smoothly... For Kunimi. Kindaichi lost all his luggage, got scammed by a street seller, got lost for almost an entire day, sunburned and then got sick before their flight home. Kunimi took selfies with him and captioned them things like "just found Kindaichi again, his wallet got stolen" while holding up a peace sign.

- Ushijima really likes touring old museums and architecture as his preferred travel activity. He also really likes guided tours because "learning from an expert is always better than trying to teach myself."

- Tendou is fluent in way more languages than anyone on the team expects. And not adjacent languages, nobody was really that surprised when he started speaking Spanish, since they knew he knew French. But fucking Urdu? Since when, Tendou? Since when? What's next, Russian? (Yeah.)

- Tendou loves tourist traps. He collects the tackiest, gaudiest magnets from everywhere he goes and willingly lets himself be scammed to make sure he gets the cheapest, worst ones.

- on that topic Tendou is incredibly street savvy in foreign countries but incredibly unhelpful. Semi got pickpocketed once, and Tendou alerted him the moment it had happened, and when pressed as to why he didn't warn him before it happened, Tendou just shrugged.

- local women flirt with Ushijima like it's their day job. Like, statistically way more than anyone flirts with him in Japan.

- Shirabu is a victim of jet leg everywhere he goes no matter how hard he tries to avoid it.

- Goshiki always ends up over preparing for trips and carrying around way too much stuff.

- Ushijima and Tendou like to hold hands while they're walking anywhere. They only separate when they need to review a map. This may be because of Tendou's tendency to decide to go another way without warning and Ushijima's selective hearing when he's focused on a task. They could end up three blocks away before realizing the other isn't following.

- on that, neither of these two use google maps. Ushijima always picks up a tourist guide and city map from a local centre and they use a paper map for all navigation. Everyone's pretty sure they know about the internet, but...

- Kuroo's really good and finding free public wifi. He has like a sixth sense for it.

- Kenma is in charge of all planning when they travel. Kuroo makes him do it even if he claims he doesn't care, because Kenma will always end up picking things he actually wants to do, and then will actually be excited while traveling instead of feeling like he's dragged along.

- On that topic, Kenma will find really niche events or shops or things to do in a city and get really genuinely excited to go see some shop hyper specific to his interests, or some event that he likes, and Kuroo (or anyone traveling with them, really) always think it's incredibly endearing and follows him anywhere

- Fukunaga travels for the food, and that's it. He probably runs a mini travel food blog for friends and family back home. He'll hit up at least 5-6 places a day and try new things every time.

- Kuroo is always a little bit embarrassed to be seen as a tourist. He does everything he can to look less like a tourist and more like he belongs there.

- Bokuto is always just sort of along for the ride and never really knows what the itinerary is. Akaashi will tell him a hundred times what they're doing in a day, and he'll still be surprised when they're getting on a train to go somewhere.

- Akaashi is also an over preparer except it's never useless. He ends up needing pretty much every weird item he thought to bring and this is a bad thing because it validates his anxiety.

- Akaashi refuses to complain to hotel staff for any reason at all, so Bokuto has to do it, which sort of just embarrasses Akaashi more. Not complaining, but that he needed someone else to do it.

- Bokuto talks so loudly going down the street everyone knows they're tourists. He's Kuroo's worst nightmare.

- Aran and Kita have so many nice, long, sweet dinners exploring new cultures and enjoying their time together after Aran had turned off both of their phones.

- Atsumu is lost on the other side of the city.

- Osamu is looking for him but he got lost on the other side of the city

- Suna told Osamu he was looking for him but is still in the hotel room.

- Atsumu and Osamu both love a good hotel swimming pool. It's like their favourite part of a trip is a nice evening swim.

- Suna loves taking absolutely shitty candid photos of everyone in front of otherwise stunning sights.

- Kita actually loves travelling despite all the chaos, and ends up just sort of happily wandering along or holding Aran's hand while he listens to everyone else have a meltdown over missing their train (he had told them the train left 45 minutes earlier than it does, so they actually have time to spare, but he doesnt want them to slow down yet so he hasn't told them.)

- Atsumu tried to hit on a local once and they thought he was lost/homeless and gave him some money

- Couples that take photos kissing in front of beautiful views and historic buildings: Daisuga, Asanoya, Iwaoi, Bokuaka, Tsukkiyama, Arankita

- People who are too embarrassed to admit they want to take cheesy couple photos so they end up missing the opportunities: Hinata, Tendou, Makki and Mattsun,

- People who did bring it up and got shot down rather unfairly for being cringe: Kuroo, Osamu, Tora

- Couples confident enough to have sex in a hotel room: Iwaoi, Kagehina, Osasuna, Fukutora

- Couples that are confident enough, but one of them respected their fellow patrons too much to allow it: Arankita, Ushiten, Daisuga

- Couples that are not confident enough: Tsukkiyama, Kuroken, Bokuaka, Asanoya,

- Couples that successfully convinced their partners to say "fuck it" and have sex in a hotel room even if it was perhaps a bother to their neighbours: Ushiten, Daisuga

- Couples that unsuccessfully convinced their partner to have sex in a hotel room because their partner has significantly more logical prowess than them and is better at articulating an argument and frankly its embarrassing that they even tried to debate them: Arankita

[feminist-space]

"As early as 2017, Wynn-Williams writes, Facebook was exploring ways to expand its ad targeting abilities to thirteen-to-seventeen-year-olds across Facebook and Instagram — a decidedly vulnerable group, often in the throes of adolescent image and social crises.

Though Facebook's ad algorithms are notoriously opaque, in 2017 The Australian alleged that the company had crafted a pitch deck for advertisers bragging that it could exploit "moments of psychological vulnerability" in its users by targeting terms like "worthless," "insecure," "stressed," "defeated," "anxious," "stupid," "useless," and "like a failure."

The social media company likewise tracked when adolescent girls deleted selfies, "so it can serve a beauty ad to them at that moment," according to Wynn-Williams. Other examples of Facebook's ad lechery are said to include the targeting of young mothers based on their emotional state, as well as emotional indexes mapped to racial groups, like a "Hispanic and African American Feeling Fantastic Over-index."

"To me, this type of surveillance and monetization of young teens’ sense of worthlessness feels like a concrete step toward the dystopian future Facebook’s critics had long warned of," Wynn-Williams reflects."

[thewertsearch]

There was however one minor anomaly. One of the failed heroes, in his new life as an ancient on this now brutal planet, began to remember. This is his story.

So, that's an explicit confirmation that memory bleed is real. I suppose it makes sense that the father of a Blood Player would be particularly prone to it.

This guy knows for a fact that trolls aren’t monsters, and it was only natural that he'd revolt against such a status quo. He’s fighting against a society built from the ground up to deny one simple truth: that trolls are pretty chill, actually.

This is the story of the Signless.

Ah, because he was a redblood. Robbed of his place on the hemospectrum, he'd have been just as much of a pariah as Karkat – although it sounds like Karkat hid it a lot better than his father did.

The trunkbeast in the room, of course, is that Karkat did get a sign. Just what happened to the Vantas name between then and now?

Unlike his peers distributed elsewhere in history, he was not given a sign at a young age. Alas, there were no signs reserved for one of his mutant blood.

So that’s how it works. I’m picturing a large compendium of signs, each mapped to a slightly different blood color. We know there are more than twelve troll signs, so there must be some way to distinguish say, a Serket, from all the other cerulean signs. Minor variations in pigmentation, perhaps?

Anyway, the point is moot in the case of Karkat Senior. The hemospectrum has a place for everyone, and everyone stays in their place – but Vantas blood isn’t on the spectrum. He has nowhere.

But it may also have been due to his mutation that he began to have the visions. Spontaneous, lucid imagery of his world in peace, before its fall.

If Big Bro Vantas is predisposed to visions, then surely Karkat, who shares most of his DNA, is equally prone to them. They are lowbloods, and we know that lowbloods are the most psychically sensitive trolls - so maybe divination is a redblood specialty, allowing the Vantas bloodline to receive more than just 'feelings' from their other selves.

And – ooh. Unlike every other type of psychic ability, Alternia wouldn’t be aware of what Vantas psionics are capable of, since there aren’t any other examples of a redblood with powers. The Signless might be the only troll in recorded history whose psionics can reach into other worlds.

This is kind of wild. Karkat – who Alternia would dismiss as a useless mistake – might just have one of the most powerful, dangerous abilities of all.

They held the promise of his people's true potential, beneath the ages of conditioned cruelty. They held the spark of revolution.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Fantasy World Building

BEST PRACTICES

Don’t Go Overboard

You don’t have to define every single element of the world to create a vibrant one.

Make Sense Scientifically

Suspension of disbelief can suspend only so far.

It’s important that the elements in your world are at least theoretically possible.

Verify the scientific possibility before you add it to your world.

Research answers to your scientific, geographic, and cultural questions when worldbuilding.

Draw Your Own Map

Even if you don’t show it to your readers, your map can help you figure out what’s what. Use your map to build a vision for where the characters are going throughout the story.

This is helpful in epic adventures where the landscape may change.

A relationship map can help you see clear relationships between characters.

Alternatively, you can develop a map that shows the characters or objects and their magical abilities.

WORLDBUILDING ELEMENTS

Time

Many fantasies take place in the past because of our collective bias against magical elements in the present or the future.

If you could compare the era of your story to one on earth, when would it be? In the present? In the past? In the future?

Perhaps your story is tied to an actual historical event, such as The Chronicles of Narnia.

If you choose to allude to a historical event, this will partially dictate how you describe the world.

Location

What is the setting of your world?

Does it take place in a parallel universe?

Is it on another earth-like planet?

Does it occur in another dimension?

Population

Who lives in your world?

Are they humans, aliens, animals, insects, hybrids, monsters?

What is their population?

Where do they live?

Do they live in small villages or large cities?

Do they live in houses? Tents? Communes?

Society

How does your collective population relate to each other?

What is the basis for society?

Is there a class system? Who is rich? Who is poor?

How do they relate to each other?

Can one go from poor to rich and vice versa?

What is the family structure? Are couples married?

Are they monogamous? Polygamous?

Do they have children?

How many children do they typically have?

What are people’s values? What is sacred?

What is universally accepted as right and wrong?

How do they deal with old age?

What are the gender roles?

History

History is important for your protagonist’s backstory.

So take time to develop the history of your world.

You can go as far back as the beginning of time, or as recently as a few hundred years.

There should be a series of cause and effect that creates the world in which your story shows.

What is the history of your fantasy world?

What created the current circumstances of the story?

What is the catalyst for change?

Create a timeline of key events to document how historical events led to current circumstances.

Laws and Government

What are the relevant laws in your universe that the characters must obey?

What is the political environment?

Who are the controlling parties and why?

Is there a struggle for independence? Is there growing dissent?

Very important: how does magic affect these laws?

Magic

Every fantasy contains some element of magic.

That’s what sets fantasy apart from any other literary genre.

Because magic is so central to your fantasy story, you must consider it when building your world.

Magic, just by its very nature, will shape your characters and direct their actions. So, with that in mind:

What type of magic will you include in your story?

Are there wizards? Genies?

Is it mental magic?

Science-based magic, like time-travel?

Or supernatural, like superheroes?

Who has it? Is magic only available to a select few?

If so, how do they get it?

Is magic banned? Is it revered?

What are the rules of magic in your world?

You have to create rules that make sense, based on what you know of the society and its rules.

And, just as important as creating the rules of magic are following those rules.

Daily Life

What do people do to pass the time?

What do they eat? Drink?

Do they exercise?

What type of clothing do they wear?

Does clothing reflect their values or their social class?

How are they educated? What do they learn in school and why?

Sentiment

How do your characters feel about the world in which they live?

What do people agree with? How do they differ?

Religion

The prevailing religion of the society at large will affect your characters’ actions.

Are they monotheistic? Polytheistic? Atheistic?

What is their folklore?

What do they believe? What do they value?

Physical Attributes

What does the world look like in a physical sense?

What are the natural resources?

What type of plants grows there? What type of animals?

What is the atmosphere?

How does the world smell?

What does the night’s sky look like? Is there night?

What is the climate?

Source ⚜ More: Writing Worksheets & Templates ⚜ 100 Sensory Words Writing References: Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding

[dilemmaart]

Basic lore on Demi Duality and Match Head 🩷🩵

Her husband, the Sandman Jackson Murto is gonna be up soon too ✨

Below are extra details and more lore on her and what she can do as a character. ✨

❗️Please do not use or repost any art. Thank you. ❗️

Origins:

Demi Duality doesn’t remember her real name. When she was young, instead of following rules and listening, she was exploring the grounds of the home she lived in. She doesn’t remember much of her childhood or what/who she was, anything about her life before she saw the lights.

Demi was chasing a white cat and found a rabbit hole in the forest beyond their garden. Looking in curiously, she was struck by a strange, colourful flash of light.

This light was what remained of an ancient being that came to the mortal realm from the Ethereal plain, a being of creation and imagination. Its physical form had long been destroyed by time, and it was blindly seeking a new body. When striking Demi, things didn’t go the way it planned. What resulted from this impact was that the remains of the being collided and became one with her, creating Dilemma and splitting her personality/essence into two flames. The bright and colourful flame of creation and the dark and cold flame of destruction.

This sent Demi into the rabbit hole with what she had on her. This included small items that were mainly drawing tools and Knick knacks. They each gained some form of powers of different types, all thanks to the power of the being.

Inventory:

★ Pocket Watch

★ Match box

★ Pencil

★ Journal + Fountain Ink Pen

Slot 1 - Pocket Watch

The watch she carried with her when she fell was given special properties, able to channel into various worlds connected to her at any given time. There’s a lot to how the watch works and throughout the years travelling Demi has tinkered with the original watch and added pieces that have given it new abilities. Also, infused with the power of the being which affects all of Demi and her possessions, the watch has a sort of ‘mind of its own’ and has also picked things up along the way.

A few of the things the Watch can do:

Unlocking/finding new worlds //

The watch is Demi’s primary way of finding her way through various worlds she visits. It is the only thing she has that can open portals and reopen them again. It can also create a key to the world after it has been saved. The key that the watch creates works only for that specific world and can only open portals to it and no others. Like copying a key, but not the master key. This key establishes a link between its world and W@steland Wondlerl@nd, where the Inn is established.

Mapping //

Opening the watch opens up a map of rifts Demi has opened already and found. This is a great way of keeping track of where she’s travelled and what keys she’s copied for residents.

Transcribing/Copying Timelines //

The most powerful thing the watch has the ability of doing is to copy an entire timeline and making it almost identical to the original up until the point it was copied. If Demi has messed with a world’s events too much or she wants to save someone who she learns is fated to die unfairly, she would use this feature.

Doing this however drains the power, leaving her unable to use it entirely for around 48 hours. It can also have dire consequences if done incorrectly for a number of natural reasons, it is creating a new timeline and dimension and many things can go wrong.

The watch picked this ability up when it travelled through its first anomaly.

(Trivia: This is how the Time Lord Victorious was created, when Demi messed with the Doctor’s timeline in a Hail Mary effort to prolong his Tenth life.)

Recognition //

The watch, thanks to its limited sentience, can recognise Demi as well as anyone who’s used it, or knows her. This way it can sometimes transport others along with Demi even though they may not be in the same room or want to travel together.

(The more people the watch transports the faster the power dies. Equivalently, when opening a full portal instead of quick jumping, the longer the portal is open the faster the power dies)

Slot 2 - Match Box

The Match Head Match box is a curious object that looks exactly what you’d expect. A cute little match box filled with pink and blue swirled matchsticks. When one is struck, at any point in any world, Demi will be called over and appear as Match Head. The matches can be relit after dying or being blown out. They don’t burn out and they never run out of the box either, only if she herself hasn’t run out of hope. She doesn’t give them out willy-nilly, though, and usually gives a few to friends or those she wants to help down the line should they ever need it. She had two, but gave one whole box to Jackson Murto (her husband).

Slot 3 - Pencil

The pencil was created out of the normal pencil she was holding in her right hand, the same arm with the tattoo.

The pencil, being the thing that took the hit as well as her hand, holds a majority of the being’s power, and due to it ‘living’ or being kept within her tattoo, over time this power seeped into herself through the pencil being sealed within her. They are now one, as well as the being that created it.

Demi has nicknamed it the WOW (Weapon of Wonder) and also refers to it as a Weapon of Creation.

Slot 4 - Journal + Pen

Demi carries with her a journal and fountain ink pen where she records all her travels and keeps little keep sakes and small notes from others. Mainly, the journal is her log of all that she does, keeping track of her travels and mapping the universe, and her drawings.

Thanks to the entity, Demi needs to expel creativity which is amplified when she is Match Head. Her journal is filled with doodles and drawings done in ink. The longer she goes without drawing the worse she feels.

[rahuratna]

Nanami Kento: Relationship Headcanons (now a fic), Part 3

Contents: pre-relationship headcanons, slow burn, pining, humor

For a few days after that, things continue as normal. Nanami meets you at work on some days, on others he's exceptionally busy with missions and paperwork. The dynamic from that day has receded, but not vanished. It feels a little like reaching a wonderful part of a book and shelving it temporarily, because you cannot bear for it to end. When you return to it, the pages will fall open naturally, close to the place where you left off.

You've stopped pretending, at this point, that your meetings with him were chance ones. You know full well when he is likely to take his breaks and that they always coincide with when you take a later shift. It is one of the many small things that seem to be spiralling out of your ability to maintain control over in recent days.

Even with all of this, the actual progression of your ... interaction (you don't feel brave enough to call it anything else) is a very slight one. You chide yourself for behaving like an immature love-struck idiot. You've always prided yourself on your ability to remain calm and objective about things, which is why this change is so ... terrifying. How can a man so composed himself be the harbinger and creator of such feelings in another person? It defies logic.

Then, one day, he sends you a message. It comes while you're at work, busy handling requisitions for new materials for sorcerers. You've been expecting an email from a contact in the supply and distribution department, and so casually slide your finger over the message before freezing. His name. Exactly as you'd saved it on your contact list.

Nanami Kento.

The message is simple:

"Hello. Please send a clean-up crew. I've attached the location."

A map co-ordinate has been attached, along with a picture. Puzzled, you open up the photo. It shows a warehouse, stacked with boxes and crates. Something had obviously occurred in that warehouse. The crates are shattered, as if a huge force had been applied to them, and dark stains are splattered all over the floors and ceiling. If Nanami had asked for a clean-up crew ...

As if in a daze, you call the relevant department and send the request through. You'd dealt with the aftermath of many exorcisms for other sorcerers, but Nanami never usually left such a mess. His efficiency also ensured that he would normally put the request through himself. That left you slightly worried. If the warehouse looked like that, what about him?

Tentatively, you pick up your phone and type a message.

"Request for clean-up team sent. Are you all right? Any injuries?"

The reply comes shortly after.

"Thank you. I'm fine. No serious injuries."

If the circumstances had been different, you might have found it amusing how robotically dry his messages were. The word 'serious', however, is circling in your mind like a vulture. What if he's downplaying his injuries? You'd never dealt with him directly before, so you wouldn't know for sure. Fingers hovering above the keys, thinking of a subtle way to find out, you give a small start as a message comes through, as if Nanami has been reading your mind.

It's another picture. This one is of his hand, large, wiry fingers wrapped around a Styrofoam coffee cup, reassuringly free of blood. You can see part of his suit jacket, draped over his arm.

"I'm not hurt. But I am thirsty."

Good Lord.

In the quiet of your office, you place your forehead in your palm and laugh silently.

__________________________________________________

Nanami had never been one for making idle conversation. His rigid countenance and stern demeanour often made him intimidating and unapproachable, except to those who knew him well. He had always struck you as someone who was supremely and calmly confident in every action he took. Whenever he spoke to you about missions in the break room, there had never been awkward silences or times when he'd seemed at a loss for words. Whatever he's said carried weight and added meaning to the conversation.

Which was why these new developments were such a puzzle to you. Over the past few weeks, there had been incidents where you couldn't make head or tail of his behaviour. It had started with the warehouse clean-up. The next time, it was the mysterious case of the missing homework.

Everyone who worked closely with the sorcerers knew, at this point, that Nanami has somewhat taken Itadori Yuuji under his wing. Unlike Gojo, who was loud, effusive and energetic when he interacted with the students, Nanami gave the impression of tolerating Yuuji's antics. Anyone who knew Nanami a little better could tell that he had a great deal of fondness for the boy.

So, when Nanami came into your office with Yuuji in tow and stopped at your desk, you couldn't help looking curiously between them. Yuuji greeted you with friendly grin and then looked at Nanami expectantly. The latter cleared his throat.

"Good day. I apologize for disturbing you, but I was wondering if you could help us?"

"Of course. What do you need?"

"Itadori has informed me that he's lost his assignment for class this afternoon."

Yuuji shamefacedly produced a battered USB drive and held it out to you.

"Ah, so sorry! But Nanamin told me that since we're passing by here, you'd help me print out another copy?"

"Oh, that's no problem at all."

You smile at Yuuji, who claps his hands together in sincere thanks. You're still wondering why they hadn't made use of the many printers in the student lab on the way here, but soon forget about that when you see the assignment open up in your word processor.

The spelling and grammar ... leave a lot to be desired, to put it kindly. You understand that English is Yuuji's second language, but this assignment wouldn't pass the minimum standards at Jujutsu Tech, where communication with foreign sorcerers was a necessity. You glance up at Nanami, who is eyeing you inscrutably through his tinted glasses. Your gaze tracks across to Yuuji.

"Hmm ... is it fine if I make a few changes? I know that the work should reflect your own ability, but if I explain the errors to you, then it would be the same as you learning and correcting those errors, yes?"

Yuuji's face lights up in a way that leaves you taken aback.

"Oh, yeah! That would be a huge help. Thanks!"

He hops up onto your table, which is thankfully free of the usual clutter, and swings his legs with disarming cheeriness. You take some time to explain his errors, his pink hair fluffing up under the air conditioning in the office as he nods his head earnestly. Within twenty minutes, you've finally made the assignment look far more presentable and Yuuji seems to understand everything you've explained. Nanami watches in silence.

Holding the newly printed copy like a precious treasure, Yuuji waves to you as they exit the office. You laugh and wave back. Nanami pauses in the doorway and looks back at you. He seems about to say something, then changes his mind, bows in thanks and follows Yuuji. You raise an eyebrow.

Curiouser and curiouser.

__________________________________________________

A few days later, you have some time off. You've stepped out of the shower, the scent of your herb-filled window boxes pleasantly filtering into the apartment with the afternoon breeze. You make yourself some tea and check your phone, coming to an abrupt halt when you see a message from Nanami waiting. You feel a rising frustration with yourself. As much as you can acknowledge the hold this man has over you, you wish your reactions to him were less embarrassing.

You close your eyes briefly, allowing the bittersweet pang of desire to well in your chest when you remember how tall and reassuringly solid he had looked, standing next to Yuuji in your office. Gojo couldn't have chosen a better or more trusted chaperone for his student. Having held off for long enough, you open the message.

It's another picture, this time of Yuuji proudly holding up his assignment, a seventy-two percent grade written in the upper corner in red ink. A significant improvement on what he could have scored. A soft smile appearing on your face, you scroll further down to see what Nanami had written.

"Apologies for not thanking you properly that day. I've seen you do crosswords, so I knew that your skill with words might help Itadori."

Ha. Sneaky. So that's why he'd brought Yuuji to you. Your smile grows and then turns perplexed. You've read the tail end of Nanami's message.

"Itadori's assignment was on the common honeybee. If you'd allow me, I'd like to use that information to thank you."

What on earth did that mean?

_______________________________________________________

The next day, you go in to work and find something on your table. A small paper bag of freshly baked honey cakes, the kind you like to buy once in a while to have with tea in your office. You very rarely get the fresh ones, though, as these get sold out very early. There's no note, but you know who they're from.

For some reason, the thought of Nanami going to the bakery so early in the morning and standing patiently in the long queue to buy these for you creates a burning feeling in your chest and a rush of blood in your ears. You look around the office hurriedly, mortified that you've once again shown your reaction so clearly. Nobody is there to see it, thankfully.

Sitting down heavily, drawing the package to you, you stroke a finger down the brown paper, struggling to contain the flood of emotion the small gesture has unlocked.

And then, you remember something. Other things begin to fall into place.

You've never mentioned to him that you liked these cakes. You've never even eaten them in front of him before. Yet, somehow, he knew. Just like how he knew that you're good with words, but more importantly, that you had a soft spot for the students and always assisted them where you could. Just like how he knew that you've been curious about the exact nature of the missions he handles and their aftermath. Just like he knew how worried you were that he could have been injured at the warehouse.

You wonder if a honeybee's sting has ever felt as dangerously sweet as this.

@tsukimefuku @g-kleran @actuallysaiyan @kentocalls

[tmtquickcomics]

Soooo, when noticing this I noticed something else.

Alot of the fandom has theorized the Sins are ranked and/or have status or power based on the placements of their rings. Crimson's comment on Oz being 'the weakest Sin' being used to support this theory. With the rings going from strongest to weakest from top to bottom.

While I personally theorize that none of the Sins are necessarily stronger or weaker than each other. They just have different strengths and weaknesses. There is evidence that says that there may be power ranking based on their Ring placements but with the lower rings being more powerful.

Not including Pride in this, lets look at those who live in each ring, their environments, and how they're viewed.

Wrath: Origin of the Imps

Their environment is desolate and harsh. Not a lot of infrastructure or signs of leisure. Imps are viewed as the lowest class. They're working class and are the 'poor'. They're also treated poorly.

They're also implied to have no natural magic and/or a small amount of magic. We've seen Crimson make a death clock and the one imp at looloo land lighting his finger on fire. But these could be explained away by the use of magical artifacts or possibly being a hybrid.

No signs that Imps would have any innate reason to go to Earth.

Gluttony: Origin of the Hellhounds

Their environment is lush and bountiful, but seems to be over grown and potently hostile (carnivorous plants). Has infrastructure, but from what we see seems to be in pockets. One of the lowest classes, but seems to flip flop a little if they're above or below Imps. They're not represented as being poor, but they are a working/guard class that are also treated like property. They don't seem to be treated poorly, but they're not given a lot of respect.

They don't appear to have a lot of magic, but they do have magic based on what we've seen with Loona. She can create a human disguise with no obvious signs of a artifact, she has tracking abilities, and heightened senses. I also theorize hellhounds having a slight connection to magic is why IMP had her being the one using the book all the time.

Signs that Hellhounds would have job related/situational reasons to go to Earth.

Greed: Origin of the Jester Demons (and maybe the -Loan- Sharks)

Greed is a little harder to talk about. We haven't interacted with the jester demons a lot and I'm not sure if the sharks are from Greed or Envy. So it's inconclusive. We don't know if they have magic or not.

Best guess is that Jester demons are a entertainment class, and are a mid class. Not treated poor or lesser like Imps and Hellhounds, but don't seem to be in positions of authority, power, or respect.

What we do know is Mammon and thusly the greed ring runs the banks. Mammon is rich, but people living in his ring are all over the map. Some places seem decent enough to live in, but there's also major areas of pollution.

Like I said Greed seems to be mid.

And as a side note: We've only seen Mammon truly interact with Oz, and Mammon backs down and back downs quick every time Oz gets pissed at him. If Oz was actually physically/magically weaker than Mam I doubt he'd back down the way he does.

Lust: Origin of the Succubi (and implied the Ars Goetias)

infrastructure. infrastructure everywhere! Dismissing the pros and cons of not having any nature near by. The Lust ring is the first one to show that not just the ruler has riches, but the people do as well. The ring is well kept and clean. Appears to be very safe to live in. the Succubi also look to be the first group to not have a singular assigned purpose. They seem to have the freedom to choose what they do from regular type jobs, factory work, or being a pop star. They're treated well.

They poses magic and have the ability to fly.

They travel to Earth regularly to help spread lust.

Envy: Origin of Sirens and Fester Demons

We haven't seen Envy yet but between Hazbin, Helluva, and meta content It's the richest of all the Rings. Most fans have assumed that Levi and Oz are inventors with Oz focusing more on things connected to pleasure and Levi being more branched out. It's also been implied that nearly anything high end luxury are made in the Envry ring. Sirens and Festers are the higher class. On par with the Succubi, and possibly higher class on a more consistent basis.

They clearly have a fair amount of magic and abilities.

We don't know the full extent of it, but we know Fester demons have a roll on Earth and it's an easy conclusion that Siren also have a roll on Earth.

Sloth: Origin of the Baphomets

Haven't seen much this group, but we do know their ring is similar to lust and envy. It's clean and well built. The ring is wealthy and houses and can profit off medical needs and relaxation centers. We haven't seen them treated bad or good outside of Blitz. But Blitz is... Blitz.

Don't know if they have magic, but it is implied with the addition of their ever burning candles.

Don't know if the baphomets go to Earth, but we do know demons can go to Earth on behalf of the Sloth ring. As seen with Barb.

Bottom line is:

the top two rings house the poorest and worst treated hell borns

Greed is the middle ring and is mid with living conditions and treatment.

Bottom three rings appear to be wealthy, higher class, maintained, and well treated.

So if the Rings do mirror the abilities and/or power of their patron Sins, the bottom rings are more well off.

[vigilskeep]

i was discussing some of these a while back with @v-arbellanaris but they’re still on my mind... some ideas for dragon age subclasses...?

mage:

hedge mage - you have spent much of your life on the run from chantry control, and survival has been a better teacher than any dusty book. a “jack of all trades, master of none” ability lets you learn limited spells from other specialisations, and you have access to a stealth skill tree

glyph scribe - you are a learned expert in the arcane, and glyphs are a second language your enemies won’t understand until it’s too late. you have access to a unique skill tree of glyphs that react when your enemies step on them. you may cast one—or more, as you level up—during the pause at the start of combat

primalist - fire was your childhood plaything, the earth is putty in your hands, and lightning always strikes twice if you ask it nicely. you have increasing bonus damage in your element of choice. your elemental AOE attacks have wider range, you may ignore enemy resistances to elemental damage, and your elemental spells cause no friendly fire no matter the difficulty

rogue:

templar hunter - you were once a deadly weapon in the hands of the templar order, bringing back its most feared apostates dead or alive. whether or not you regret the past, you cannot leave it behind. you have access to a templar skill tree, some of its abilities exclusively possible to use at long range

vampire - you were temporarily possessed by a voracious demon, and it left its mark. it left its hungers. you may drink your enemies’ blood to regain health or fuel demonic abilities

arcane trickster - while blades or bows are still your best allies, the trace of magic in your blood gives you limited access to spellcasting. unable to create anything real enough to touch, you manifest illusions that bemuse your foes. you have access to a unique skill tree of primarily defensive buffs and disorienting spells

warrior:

dog lord - like all great fereldan warriors, you are never better than with your trusty hound at your side. you gain an animal companion, though unlike rangers, you level up your mabari as you progress rather than unlocking different types of animal. you can also equip kaddis warpaint on yourself instead of a helmet, providing further buffs to you and your mabari

enhanced soldier - you were born ordinary, but that doesn’t mean you have to remain so. you supplement your skills with powerful potions brewed by secretive alchemists or your own careful hands. you have access to a unique skill tree, with a variety of potions that temporarily boost your stats and attack speed or allow you unnatural power. to improve them even further, collect special ingredients from areas of the map where the veil is considered thin

half-golem - you are a failed experiment. attempts to recreate the golems of old left you with thick stone skin over parts of your body. you cannot equip armour or weapons. instead, you equip crystals that help you inflict and resist different types of damage, and have access to a unique skill tree that supports your natural armour and powerful unarmed attacks

[psychopomp-namine]

looking at someone's translations of map of dreams. the idea that sorcerer liu xiao deals with "equivalent exchange" and applies "mental control on liars" and doesn't like being deceived. hmmmmmm

still not debunking my previous read on liu xiao, which is that he has a transactional view of relationships and that his ability to read hearts makes him predisposed to see people as insincere (liars) since he can always tell when they're not being genuine. which is a pretty fun contrast to cheng xiaoshi, who's main character trait is his sincerity. and also gives an additional lens with looking at his relationship with others, like vein and li tianchen (expounded upon in the tags)

tbh the transactional view also makes sense. you don't have to worry about lies and deception if you signed a contract. each person will do what they say they will do because there are consequences otherwise. maybe he enjoys having friends that are "lost in the darkness" because they're the type of people who are more straightforward about striking deals.

my hc (until proven otherwise) is that liu xiao got his ability very young and it warped the way he views people. essentially, having an ability like that would train you to just always... doubt. especially considering what we know of the liu family — how his parents and brother behave, the family business, etc — liu xiao would just accept it as normal that the world is just naturally insincere.

from the little screentime we've seen of him, liu xiao himself hasn't lied much; the narrative obscures him to the audience but he's pretty forthcoming about his plans to the people he trusts (li tianchen, vein). he would've spilled the beans to xia fei, but xia fei didn't want to hear it lol.

also, unrelated, but it seems like this would be everyone's dnd classes:

qiao ling: paladin (I also thought of cleric, but paladin has both healing spells and martial skills)

cheng xiaoshi: fighter

lu guang: wizard

xia fei: bard

vein: ...barbarian? (because of the rage mechanic)

liu xiao: sorcerer (oof liu xiao with meta magic spells...)

[brothermoth]

Hyperfixating on decades old video games like the fool I am

I played dragon age 3 when I was like 14 and I decided to play it again out of spite because I thought Veilguard got so much unfair and frankly nonsense criticism

They're very different but both good games, however I think the dialogue in Inquisition is a bit awkward. Companion banter is one of the saving graces but there's very little interaction between all of the characters. I think Veilguard did a much better job of making the companions feel as if they were befriending each other too. They chat, they hang out in each other's rooms, and you can clearly pick out the smaller friendships within the group.

I much prefer the romance arcs in Veilguard too, though I like the acknowledgement of dynamics and potential issues in Inquisition (ie. mage Inquisitor asking Cullen if he's even comfortable being with a mage). The romances in Inquisition are very rushed, which sucks because that's one of the main draws to the games. I like that Veilguard makes you work for it, and it's much easier to see Rook have actual chemistry with the characters. Part of this is the nature of the characters' role in the story which I totally understand, as Rook is more of a peer rather than a superior to the others, where the Inquisitor is elevated to basically deity status. It works with the story to make the character feel so isolated! But, I think the romances needed some more meat to them if that makes sense.

World-wise I love the more open world in Inquisition, with the dragon fights and the ability to accidentally wander into some horrible mess that has you going fuck fuck fuck and spamming buttons. I'm a slut for collections and spent probably half my time gathering rocks. Veilguard has a much more limited map and the boss fights are confined to missions rather than randomly placed.

I have a love hate relationship with the gear system in Inquisition, because while I love being able to play dolls and dress up the characters it can get very overwhelming having so much gear to manage. I absolutely love being able to customize the colors and armor appearances which I thought was lacking in Veilguard, though I did like most of the armor we got. If it was a bit more customizable I would've been in heaven. Character creation is definitely the best development between the games and it drives me insane that you can't change body type in Inquisition. Not even like ...a few options. You get pencil Lavellan, brick shithouse Cadash and Adaar, and just average build for Travelyan. I love the qunari in Veilguard but they should've had more hairstyles available. Lack of hairstyles in Inquisition is so bad. They should've added more in some random update like 9 years ago. Also really liked being able to equip an appearance and armor separate in Veilguard. Nothing pisses me off more than getting really good armor that looks like shit, where low stat armor is awesome. This is a callout of Solas in particular why are his fits ASS.

I felt spoiled in Veilguard not having to worry about my companions getting themselves killed because it drove me absolutely insane. They were, however, much less useful in fights. My Inquisition strategy is to turn Blackwall into a tank and just send his ass in while the rest of us attack from a distance. Veilguard made me do the work myself, which was fine because I love the combat in that game. It's smooth and it looks cool and I like the different weapons, but I do wish you could have a single sword as a rogue instead of two. It's a bit clunky with the bow also. The mage staff combat was also meh, I like the way it looks but it's just far more difficult than orb and dagger. I do like orb and dagger though, it's a creative change from staff only combat in other games.

The characters in both games are so so good. I think the companions are always the saving grace of dragon age because there's no constraints regarding player customization. I think the custom characters can hold back storytelling, which is probably why Hawke remains so popular. They're a more set character, with a specific background and family no matter what. The people that complain about Taash or Sera just hate autistic people I think. Taash was immature because they're like 22 surrounded by people 10+ years older. They have one of the best storylines in my opinion, and I think their friendship with Lucanis is so fucking funny. 30-something tired workaholic being besties with a much younger coworker is my favorite dynamic.

The lore connects as well as it does between all the other games. In fact, I found myself going "oh! Oh!" While I was replaying Inquisition because of little details that ended up being important! Cassandra commenting on whether or not archdemons are pets to something more powerful!! The buildup between games to the gods being main villains is so juicy and wonderful. I thought the gods made much better villains than Corypheus. Elgar'nan having his cat fight with Solas really highlights what I think is a huge theme; little people suffering for the egos of the powerful. Also he laughs just like Bo Burnham in welcome to the internet and I cackle every time.

I will agree somewhat with the criticism of Veilguard's sanitization of a lot of issues brought up in other games. I think they did implement a lot of themes! I do however understand why they didn't hone in on the darker elements. It's a different game for a different time. Everything sucks so fucking bad right now and I really appreciate the ideas of unity and hope that Veilguard is full of. I think doom and gloom has its place, and I rather enjoy a darker topic, but I think it was purposeful to hone in on a message of hope. It's just what was right for the climate nowadays. I also really appreciate the unapologetic support of queer people in Veilguard, you have to give it credit for that at least.

Anyways they're fun games with interesting lore and none of this matters that much. I had fun playing veilguard and I had fun playing Inquisition. Play Veilguard with an open mind, it really doesn't deserve the vitriol it gets.

[vague-humanoid]

A recent tell-all book by former Facebook insider Sarah Wynn-Williams, titled "Careless People," is blowing the lid on the sheer depravity of the social media giant's targeting machine. Wynn-Williams worked at Facebook — which subsequently changed its name to Meta a few years back — from 2011 to 2017, eventually rising to the role of public policy director.

As early as 2017, Wynn-Williams writes, Facebook was exploring ways to expand its ad targeting abilities to thirteen-to-seventeen-year-olds across Facebook and Instagram — a decidedly vulnerable group, often in the throes of adolescent image and social crises.

Though Facebook's ad algorithms are notoriously opaque, in 2017 The Australian alleged that the company had crafted a pitch deck for advertisers bragging that it could exploit "moments of psychological vulnerability" in its users by targeting terms like "worthless," "insecure," "stressed," "defeated," "anxious," "stupid," "useless," and "like a failure."

The social media company likewise tracked when adolescent girls deleted selfies, "so it can serve a beauty ad to them at that moment," according to Wynn-Williams. Other examples of Facebook's ad lechery are said to include the targeting of young mothers based on their emotional state, as well as emotional indexes mapped to racial groups, like a "Hispanic and African American Feeling Fantastic Over-index."

"To me, this type of surveillance and monetization of young teens’ sense of worthlessness feels like a concrete step toward the dystopian future Facebook’s critics had long warned of," Wynn-Williams reflects.

[post-punk-revival]

One thing about me is that I like to see the insides of buildings. I hate socializing but will still take any opportunity to see the inside of a person's home. If someone asks me to come with them on an errand or something, I'll be extra willing if we're going to a building I've never been inside. It's very satisfying for me. It's not a kink or anything like that. I just like to take in the layouts of interiors and add them to my mental map library. Sometimes I revisit buildings I recall, and places I've spent long enough in to have memorized, as if it's a form of meditation, and it is oddly stilling. Occasionally, I use them for writing; as an unspoken reference for the layout of a room that a scene takes place in. The readers need not know, but it helps me as the author form a more concrete image. Usually I write without describing (or understanding) the actual space the scene is taking place in; scenes in specific types of rooms are actually taking place, technically, in real rooms that I've seen, in lieu of the ability to mentally generate and envision interior spaces on my own. A subconscious practice I picked up to help counteract my natural lack of spatial awareness, perhaps. Almost a hobby, now. I enjoy it. Just to stand inside a building and look around.

Another thing about me is that I've seen a lot of psychologists throughout my childhood and only one ever tried to tell my parents I wasn't autistic