#outside of its traditional dimensions

[mommysorryshizun]

bit late to the party but liushen week day 2! mandarin orange.

[heritageposts]

What does life in North Korea look like outside of Pyongyang? 🇰🇵

Hey, I'm back again with a very scary "tankie" post that asks you to think of North Koreans as people, and to consider their country not as a cartoonish dystopia, but as a nation that, like any other place on earth, has culture, traditions, and history.

Below is a collection of pictures from various cities and places in North Korea, along with a brief dive into some of the historical events that informs life in the so-called "hermit kingdom."

Warning: very long post

Kaesong, the historic city

Beginning this post with Kaesong, one of the oldest cities in Korea. It's also one of the few major cities in the DPRK (i.e. "North Korea") that was not completely destroyed during the Korean war.

Every single city you'll see from this point on were victims of intense aerial bombardments from the U.S. and its allies, and had to be either partially or completely rebuilt after the war.

From 1951 to 1953, during what has now become known as the "forgotten war" in the West, the U.S. dropped 635,000 tons of bombs over Korea — most of it in the North, and on civilian population centers. An additional 32,000 tons of napalm was also deployed, engulfing whole cities in fire and inflicting people with horrific burns:

For such a simple thing to make, napalm had horrific human consequences. A bit of liquid fire, a sort of jellied gasoline, napalm clung to human skin on contact and melted off the flesh. Witnesses to napalm's impact described eyelids so burned they could not be shut and flesh that looked like "swollen, raw meat." - PBS

Ever wondered why North Koreans seem to hate the U.S so much? Well...

Keep in mind that only a few years prior to this, the U.S. had, as the first and only country in the world, used the atomic bomb as a weapon of war. Consider, too, the proximity between Japan and Korea — both geographically and as an "Other" in the Western imagination.

As the war dragged on, and it became clear the U.S. and its allies would not "win" in any conventional sense, the fear that the U.S. would resort to nuclear weapons again loomed large, adding another frightening dimension to the war that can probably go a long way in explaining the DPRK's later obsession with acquiring their own nuclear bomb.

But even without the use of nuclear weapons, the indiscriminate attack on civilians, particularly from U.S. saturation bombings, was still horrific:

"The number of Korean dead, injured or missing by war’s end approached three million, ten percent of the overall population. The majority of those killed were in the North, which had half of the population of the South; although the DPRK does not have official figures, possibly twelve to fifteen percent of the population was killed in the war, a figure close to or surpassing the proportion of Soviet citizens killed in World War II" - Charles K. Armstrong

On top of the loss of life, there's also the material damage. By the end of the war, the U.S. Air Force had, by its own estimations, destroyed somewhere around 85% of all buildings in the DPRK, leaving most cities in complete ruin. There are even stories of U.S. bombers dropping their loads into the ocean because they couldn't find any visible targets to bomb.

What you'll see below of Kaesong, then, provides both a rare glimpse of what life in North Korea looked like before the war, and a reminder of what was destroyed.

Kaesong's main street, pictured below.

Due the stifling sanctions imposed on the DPRK—which has, in various forms and intensities, been in effect since the 1950s—car ownership is still low throughout the country, with most people getting around either by walking or biking, or by bus or train for longer distances.

Kaesong, which is regarded as an educational center, is also notable for its many Koryŏ-era monuments. A group of twelve such sites were granted UNESCO world heritage status in 2013.

Included is the Hyonjongnung Royal Tomb, a 14th-century mausoleum located just outside the city of Kaesong.

One of the statues guarding the tomb.

Before moving on the other cities, I also wanted to showcase one more of the DPRK's historical sites: Pohyonsa, a thousand-year-old Buddhist temple complex located in the Myohyang Mountains.

Like many of DPRK's historic sites, the temple complex suffered extensive damage during the Korean war, with the U.S. led bombings destroying over half of its 24 pre-war buildings.

The complex has since been restored and is in use today both as a residence for Buddhist monks, and as a historic site open to visitors.

Hamhung, the second largest city in the DPRK.

A coastal city located in the South Hamgyŏng Province. It has long served as a major industrial hub in the DPRK, and has one of the largest and busiest ports in the country.

Hamhung, like most of the coastal cities in the DPRK, was hit particularly hard during the war. Through relentless aerial bombardments, the US and its allies destroyed somewhere around 80-90% percent of all buildings, roads, and other infrastructure in the city.

Now, more than seventy years later, unexploded bombs, mortars and pieces of live ammunition are still being unearthed by the thousands in the area. As recently as 2016, one of North Korea's bomb squads—there's one in every province, faced with the same cleanup task—retrieved 370 unexploded mortar rounds... from an elementary school playground.

Experts in the DPRK estimate it will probably take over a hundred years to clean up all the unexploded ordnance—and that's just in and around Hamhung.

Hamhung's fertilizer plant, the biggest in North Korea.

When the war broke out, Hamhung was home to the largest nitrogen fertilizer plant in Asia. Since its product could be used in the creation of explosives, the existence of the plant is considered to have made Hamhung a target for U.S. aggression (though it's worth repeating that the U.S. carried out saturation bombings of most population centers in the country, irrespective of any so-called 'military value').

The plant was immediately rebuilt after the war, and—beyond its practical use—serves now as a monument of resistance to U.S. imperialism, and as a functional and symbolic site of self-reliance.

Chongjin, the third largest city in the DPRK.

Another coastal city and industrial hub. It underwent a massive development prior to the Korean war, housing around 300,000 people by the time the war broke out.

By 1953, the U.S. had destroyed most of Chongjin's industry, bombed its harbors, and killed one third of the population.

Wonsan, a rebuilt seaside city.

The city of Wonsan is a vital link between the DPRK's east and west coasts, and acts today as both a popular holiday destination for North Koreans, and as a central location for the country's growing tourism industry.

Considered a strategically important location during the war, Wonsan is notable for having endured one of the longest naval blockades in modern history, lasting a total of 861 days.

By the end of the war, the U.S. estimated that they had destroyed around 80% of the city.

Masikryong Ski Resort, located close to Wonsan. It opened to the public in 2014 and is the first, I believe, that was built with foreign tourists in mind.

Sariwon, another rebuilt city

One of the worst hit cities during the Korean War, with an estimated destruction level of 95%.

I've written about its Wikipedia page here before, which used to mockingly describe its 'folk customs street'—a project built to preserve old Korean traditions and customs—as an "inaccurate romanticized recreation of an ancient Korean street."

No mention, of course, of the destruction caused by the US-led aerial bombings, or any historical context at all that could possibly even hint at why the preservation of old traditions might be particularly important for the city.

Life outside of the towns and cities

In the rural parts of the DPRK, life primarily revolves around agriculture. As the sanctions they're under make it difficult to acquire fuel, farming in the DPRK relies heavily on manual labour, which again, to avoid food shortages, requires that a large portion of the labour force resides in the countryside.

Unlike what many may think, the reliance on manual labour in farming is a relatively "new" development. Up until the crisis of the 1990s, the DPRK was a highly industrialized nation, with a modernized agricultural system and a high urbanization rate. But, as the access to cheap fuel from the USSR and China disappeared, and the sanctions placed upon them by Western nations heavily restricted their ability to import fuel from other sources, having a fuel-dependent agricultural industry became a recipe for disaster, and required an immediate and brutal restructuring.

For a more detailed breakdown of what lead to the crisis in the 90s, and how it reshaped the DPRKs approach to agriculture, check out this article by Zhun Xu.

Some typical newly built rural housing, surrounded by farmland.

Tumblr only allows 20 pictures per post, but if you want to see more pictures of life outside Pyongyang, check out this imgur album.

[callimara]

WILDWARD: About & Master Post

About

Wildward is an original “magical girl” story by callimara loosely inspired by the show Miraculous Ladybug and Tokyo Mew Mew. However, unlike traditional ‘magical girl’ stories which focuses on the school-age experience, Wildward follows a cast of original characters in their young adulthood and the responsibilities that come with it. Being independent and trying to make ends meet is difficult enough, but their lives only become more complicated when they stumble upon mysterious jewellery that unleashes their wild side and transforms them into demigods! But just like everything else in the grown-up world, their newfound abilities come with a price. Now they must face mysterious and terrifying beasts from other dimensions that are even wilder than they are. Can they protect humanity from this extradimensional threat? Or will they succumb to their own primal urges?

Power System

In this world, exists 8 legendary artifacts known as Aegises, which are magical accessories inhabited by mythical beings called Sentinels. The Sentinels are capable of bestowing those in possession of their Aegis with supernatural abilities. The Sentinels primarily reside inside of their aegis until they are called upon by their wielder, at which point, they will leave their aegis and possess the wielder as their new vessel: granting them power. When they manifest outside of their aegis – often to act as a guide to their wielders - the Sentinels take on the form of the first creature they possessed, and are only visible to their wielders. When possessed by a Sentinel, their vessels develop the physical attributes of their Sentinels, such as wings, claws, and fangs. Aegis wielders also become more in tune with their survival instincts, gaining superhuman reflexes, stamina, speed, strength, sight, vision, and smell. Their transformed appearance follows the user’s preferences, however Aegis weapons are based on the individual wielder’s strengths and skills, allowing users of the same Aegis to wield different weapons, as well as a sub-weapon. This transformed state acts as an armor, giving them invincibility over normal weapons, increasing their physical durability and suppressing their pain perception, allowing them to survive fatal and/or immobilizing injuries. Only Aegis wielders (or those of a similar nature) are capable of injuring other Aegis wielders. Each Aegis has a limit to the amount of damage their transformed states can sustain: some being higher than others. If the sustained damage remains within these limits, all injuries disappear once the wielder de-transforms. However, if this limit is breached, the injuries they sustained may transfer to their normal bodies when they de-transform. The Aegis function by tapping into its wielder’s energy. Hence, the wielder’s bodies are forced to increase metabolism and produce more energy to keep up with the demand: similar to aerobic exercise. The longer they remain transformed, the further their bodies are pushed to exhaustion. The length of time that wielders are able to remain transformed depends solely on their physical fitness. Because of this, the Aegis wielders must also train their normal bodies, build fitness and endurance to remain transformed for longer. When transformed, their Aegis has the power to make it so that it would be impossible for someone to recognize their wielder, even with the assistance of psychic powers or DNA sampling. Each Aegis also possesses an activation and deactivation phrase, as well as a special power.

More world-building and lore!

▶ The Sentinels

▶ The Aegis & Spellbook

▶ The Setting

▶ The Characters

▶ Frequently Asked Questions

▶ Episodes

▶ Read it on Ao3

▶ Mood Boards

(Updated 16th January 2024)

[crazycatgirl420]

Fuck Around, Find Out

Ghost King Danny tutors Impulse, Bart Allen, in Summoning magic after a horrible drunken Summoning disaster.

Part 1

Monday came much too soon. Danny had spent his weekend preparing his first lesson for Bart, considering he was so deep in his non-belief of magic that he nearly started a war, Danny decided they would have to start with the basics as taught to newly formed entities in the Realms.

Danny removed his pc and monitors from his desk, snapping on a white board attachment and putting several notebooks, pens, pencils, and markers in the drawers. He held his folder of lesson plans and his own notebook. At exactly four o'clock he put one hand on the desk and appeared right in front of his Contractor.

There was a crash sound behind him, and a wide eyed red-head on the couch, a game controller in his hand.

"We agreed on four to six for your lessons." Danny reminded him. "We have a lot to cover and I do not want to spend my entire existence teaching you."

Thee human grimaced but nodded. "What are we doing today?"

"You'll be learning to read and write," Danny said. "Magic is its own language, if you don't know it you can't effectively use it."

Bart spent two hours copying the Infinite Realms Dictionary of Magic into his first notebook while Danny read it aloud.

"There are six hundred and seventy languages used in this dimensions magical script," Danny explained. "As a living being born of this realm you only need to be fluent in those six hundred seventy languages, which is a lot less than what I had to learn as a being of the Infinite Realms-"

Bart paused in writing, glancing at the book he was copying from. '670 Alphabets, Beginning to End'

"I'll leave you with the Dictionaries to study in your own time. On Wednesday we'll go over grammar, and Friday we'll practice speaking. You'll have the weekend to practice as you wish and next week will be your first set of tests,"

"Tests next week?" Bart asked. "After only three days of lessons?"

"This is easy stuff," Danny said. "You're magical friends learn this as young children before they even choose a specialty."

Bart had a week to learn six hundred languages. He couldn't believe Raven or Zatanna knew all these languages, and only a week to learn them all was insane.

"Keep working," Danny said. "We don't have time for you to change your mind now. You signed a contract, I can't even explain what that entails until you understand magic script. The gibberish you scrawled on the floor in your drunken Summoning could've been the end of your deminsion and every deminsion that surrounds yours."

Bart kept writing.

Two hours for Bart tended to feel like an eternity but Phantom taught at the same speed Bart lived his life normally. There was no slacking off for milliseconds waiting for outside time to catch up. Phantom kept up, as soon as Bart finished a notebook another was handed to him. Phantom recited the dictionary and passages on culture, history, and traditions with ease, asking questions and having Bart read the passages as he copied them down.

"You have until I return on Wednesday to learn all six hundred and seventy languages here." Phantom said, pulling several stacks of books out of the desk. "Feel free to ask those magical friends of yours about magic script of you don't believe me, though your inability to believe them was what lead to this in the first place,"

Phantom left just like he has appeared, with a flash of light and an ice cold breeze.

Bart groaned, eyeing the stacks of books with regret. This was going to be a lot of reading.

[noise-vs-signal]

The Surroundings

The subconscious is not below conscious awareness, but in fact surrounds and contains it.

Conscious awareness appears as a local intensification, a luminous space within a more extensive psychic continuum. The “subconscious” is not spatially lower; it is the ground-field whose perturbations precipitate the figure we call self-reflection. Depth becomes horizon.

Phenomenology already insists that no figure is intelligible without a surrounding ground. What we call object or thought is a momentary stabilization of contrasts inside a wider, pre-thematic manifold of sensation, memory, affect, and bodily implication. Ontologically, ground has priority: it makes figure possible, not vice-versa.

Thus the so-called subconscious is the enabling matrix—a dynamic reservoir of potential meanings—out of which discrete acts of consciousness crystallise.

If consciousness is a focal condensation, its preferred medium—linear language—mirrors that narrowness. Symbolic imagery, by contrast, functions radially: multiple semantic vectors erupt at once, matching the multi-dimensional logic of the surrounding field.

What appears “opaque” in a symbol is exactly its surplus to the focal point—the overflow of ground that cannot be exhausted by propositional statement.

The conscious self is not a self-subsistent layer placed atop substrates; it is a relational nexus produced by wider dynamical flows.

If the “outside” of self is already psyche, the boundary between private interiority and world diminishes; care for context is care for mind.

We can also say that our focal awareness is Time, the successive, moment-by-moment articulation of experience, which is surrounded by Eternity, the supra-sequential ground in which all possible moments already inhere.

Time is therefore not an independent dimension but the serial surface that becomes visible when Eternity is locally illuminated.

Eternity is “the complete, simultaneous possession of endless life.” - Boethius.

Ontologically, Eternity is not a distant realm; it is the unreleased surplus of every present moment, the total repertoire of patterns awaiting selection.

Super-consciousness is the state in which Time is perceived from the side of Eternity. Here past, present, and future are apprehended as facets of a single, multidimensional event-space.

Across traditions, Time is a creature of perception, while Eternity is the ground in which perception itself takes place.

The Imaginal World is an ontological middle distance where the formless potencies of Eternity acquire shape, colour, and story on their way toward empirical manifestation. Conversely, sensory particulars ascend through imaginal transfiguration when they are taken up as symbols and re-opened toward their eternal source.

Everyday events are re-read symbolically, re-enter the Imaginal, and thence disclose their eternal dimension. Artistic and ritual acts work precisely by orchestrating this ascent.

Mutually exclusive images can coexist without contradiction—an echo of the total simultaneity of Eternity.

The Imaginal is the place where Eternity and Time interpenetrate, making possible both the descent of meaning into history and the ascent of experience toward the timeless whole.

[mysticstronomy]

WHAT IS OUR UNIVERSE SURROUNDED BY??

Blog#464

Saturday, December 21st, 2024

Welcome back,

The question of whether anything exists beyond the universe is one that stretches the limits of human comprehension and current scientific understanding. It touches upon the very nature of the cosmos, the origins of everything, and the limits of physical reality. The universe, by definition, encompasses all of space and time, including all forms of energy, matter, and the physical laws that govern them. However, the inquiry into what, if anything, lies beyond the universe delves into both the realms of cosmology and philosophy.

From a cosmological standpoint, the question is inherently linked to the nature and shape of the universe. Current models based on the theory of general relativity and observations of the cosmic microwave background suggest that the universe is flat and infinite. In an infinite universe, there is no “beyond,” as space extends endlessly. However, if the universe is finite but unbounded, like the surface of a sphere, one could still not step “outside” it, as it curves back onto itself.

The concept of the observable universe further complicates this question. The observable universe is limited by the speed of light; we can only see as far as light has had time to travel since the Big Bang, approximately 13.8 billion years ago. Beyond this observable limit lies more universe that we cannot see. The extent of the universe beyond our observational limits remains a subject of scientific speculation and exploration.

One of the most intriguing ideas in modern physics is the multiverse theory, which posits that our universe may be just one of many universes within a larger multiverse. Each universe within the multiverse could have its own set of physical laws, constants, and properties.

The concept of a multiverse arises from various theoretical frameworks, including inflationary cosmology and string theory. If the multiverse exists, then “beyond” our universe could mean neighboring universes with potentially different dimensions and physical realities. However, the multiverse theory remains highly speculative and, by its very nature, may be beyond the reach of direct empirical observation.

Philosophically, the question of what lies beyond the universe touches upon the nature of existence, the concept of infinity, and the origins of everything.

Different philosophical traditions have contemplated the cosmos’s nature, often arriving at varying conclusions about the universe and its boundaries. Theological perspectives may posit the existence of spiritual realms or deities existing outside the physical confines of the universe, adding another layer to the discourse on what “beyond” might entail.

The human quest to understand the universe is bounded by the limitations of our senses, technology, and the conceptual frameworks we use to make sense of the cosmos.

Our understanding of the universe has expanded dramatically over the centuries, yet each answer brings new questions. The inquiry into what lies beyond the universe challenges the very limits of scientific inquiry and human imagination.

In conclusion, the question of whether anything exists beyond the universe remains one of the most profound and speculative in science and philosophy. It challenges our understanding of the cosmos, the nature of reality, and the limits of human comprehension. Whether through the lens of cosmology, the theoretical frameworks of physics, or philosophical contemplation, the exploration of what lies beyond the universe continues to captivate and intrigue, pushing the boundaries of knowledge and imagination.

Originally published on https://medium.com/

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, December 25th, 2024)

"IS THERE WATER IN SPACE??"

[grey-sorcery]

Title: Psychic Abilities: First Steps

Suggested Reading

Biases in Witchcraft Dualities Psychic Abilities & Mental Illness Shadow Work: First Steps Energetic Senses The Subtle Body Warding Basics

*- Closed or Semi-closed cultures/practices This article uses yellow text, which may be difficult to read outside of dark-mode.

Understanding Psychic Abilities

Psychic abilities often refer to skills or talents enabling individuals to gain information or influence beyond the scope of human senses or scientific understanding. Such capacities are frequently posited to transcend the boundaries of time, space, and matter. While they can be classified into various types – such as clairvoyance (perceiving remote or hidden information), telepathy (transmitting thoughts), and precognition (predicting future events) – the mechanisms underpinning these phenomena remain the subjects of controversy and speculation.

 Historical Perspectives

Throughout history, diverse cultures have recognized and integrated the notion of psychic phenomena into their daily lives and spiritual practices. From ancient civilizations like the Greeks and Egyptians, who consulted oracles and seers for guidance, to indigenous tribes who believed in the power of shamans and medicine people to communicate with forces beyond human perception, psychic phenomena have occupied a significant niche.

In the medieval period, psychic occurrences were often intertwined with religious or supernatural explanations. Those who claimed to possess these abilities were either revered as divinely gifted or, conversely, vilified and persecuted for heresy or witchcraft. Notably, the Renaissance and Enlightenment periods began to scrutinize such claims, emphasizing empirical evidence and rationality. This shift led to a decline in the public acceptance of psychic phenomena as mere superstitions or the result of charlatanism.

Modern Interpretations

In contemporary times, the debate surrounding psychic phenomena has bifurcated into two dominant perspectives: the skeptics and the proponents.

Skeptics, often armed with a scientific background, posit that claims of psychic abilities lack empirical evidence. They argue that such phenomena can be explained by cognitive biases, logical fallacies, or mere coincidences. For instance, the confirmation bias might lead someone to remember only the instances when a psychic prediction was accurate and dismiss those when it was not. They also highlight instances where purported psychics have been exposed as frauds, using tactics such as cold reading to feign genuine abilities.

On the contrary, proponents assert that the existence of psychic abilities is a genuine and untapped dimension of human potential. While acknowledging that fraudulence exists, they argue that there are genuine cases that defy conventional explanations. They contend that science, in its current form, may not be adequately equipped to understand or measure these phenomena. Some postulate that advancements in neuroscience, consciousness research, or quantum physics might one day elucidate the enigmatic nature of psychic abilities.

Types of Psychic Abilities 

Clairvoyance

Derived from the French words "clair" (clear) and "voir" (to see), clairvoyance essentially translates to "clear seeing." Clairvoyance refers to the claimed ability to gather information about an object, person, location, or event without any known humanly means. This phenomenon is often described as receiving visual information in the form of symbols, colors, or visions. Throughout history, many societies have revered clairvoyants as powerful figures. In some cultures, they played significant roles as advisors to rulers or as mediators between the physical and unseen worlds. Contemporary society, with its emphasis on empirical evidence, often views clairvoyance with skepticism, yet there remains a persistent cultural fascination with this ability. In many spiritual traditions, clairvoyance is seen as a heightened state of consciousness, a gift or a skill that connects the individual with higher dimensions or spiritual guides.

Telepathy

Stemming from the Greek words "tele" (distant) and "pathos" (feeling), telepathy can be understood as "distant feeling." Telepathy is the purported transmission of information between individuals without using known human sensory channels or physical interaction. It encompasses the transfer of emotions, thoughts, or even complex ideas. From ancient legends to modern science fiction, telepathic communication has captured the human imagination. While empirical research in telepathy remains inconclusive, it is a recurrent theme in popular media, underscoring the human yearning for connection. Mystic traditions may regard telepathy as a manifestation of universal interconnectedness, suggesting that at a deep level, all consciousness is one and separateness is an illusion.

Precognition

The term derives from the Latin "prae" (before) and "cognitio" (getting to know), effectively meaning "foreknowledge." Precognition involves knowledge or perception of future events before they occur, without any logical basis for such foreknowledge. This might manifest as dreams, feelings, or intuitions. Predicting the future has been a universal human pursuit, with precognitives often serving crucial societal roles as prophets, oracles, or seers. However, contemporary views on precognition are split, with skeptics pointing to cognitive biases as explanations. Many mystical traditions suggest that time, as humans perceive it, is an illusion. In such a framework, precognition might be understood as accessing timeless dimensions where past, present, and future coexist.

Claircognizance

"Clair" (clear) combined with "cognizance" (knowledge) indicates "clear knowledge." Claircognizance denotes an intuitive ability to just "know" something, without any logical basis or prior information. Individuals with this ability might suddenly know facts, insights, or understandings without knowing how they acquired them. The concept of inherent knowledge or insight is recognized in many cultures, often attributed to divine inspiration or profound intuition. However, in a world valuing empirical data, such spontaneous knowledge can be met with skepticism. Some spiritual interpretations posit that claircognizance is a connection to universal knowledge or the collective consciousness, suggesting an innate ability to tap into an omniscient source.

Clairsentience

Combining "clair" (clear) with "sentience" (feeling), clairsentience means "clear feeling." Clairsentience refers to the ability to physically feel or emotionally sense the energy or emotions of people, places, or events. This might manifest as gut feelings, sudden mood changes, or physical sensations. Empathy and heightened sensitivity have been recognized across various cultures. While some view clairsentience as a heightened form of empathy, others approach it with caution due to its inexplicable nature. Within mystical traditions, clairsentience might be seen as an enhanced sensitivity to the energy or vibrations of the universe, reflecting a deep interconnectedness of all things.

Compulsion

Derived from Latin "compellere," meaning "to drive or push together." Compulsion, in this context, refers to the purported ability to influence another's thoughts or actions without overt persuasion or physical interference. Historical records are replete with tales of individuals who held sway over masses, their compelling presence seemingly altering the will of others. Modern interpretations often approach such claims with caution, exploring psychological mechanisms behind suggestibility. Some spiritual interpretations suggest compulsion is an exertion of one's will or energy over another, tapping into the subtle dynamics of interwoven consciousness.

Common Misconceptions

While psychic abilities have been recognized and debated for centuries, modern society often conflates them with broader supernatural phenomena. To distinguish: psychic abilities are often defined as potential innate capacities of the human psyche, whereas supernatural phenomena encompass a broader range of occurrences that supposedly defy natural laws. An example of such a conflation might be equating clairvoyance solely with ghostly apparitions or haunted locales, limiting the nuanced understanding of psychic phenomena. This conflation can be attributed to myriad factors, including cultural narratives, folklore, and limited exposure to diverse interpretations of psychic occurrences.

The Hollywood Influence

The entertainment industry, particularly Hollywood, has significantly molded perceptions of psychic phenomena. From sensationalized depictions of mediums speaking to the departed in horror movies to superheroes with telepathic abilities saving the world, these portrayals often prioritize spectacle over accuracy. While they capture the imagination and offer thrilling narratives, they may distort or exaggerate the nuances of genuine psychic experiences.

Hollywood's penchant for dramatization means that psychic abilities are frequently portrayed with an added layer of spectacle, potentially leading the general populace to harbor unrealistic or skewed expectations. For instance, telepathy in movies might be showcased as characters having fullblown conversations without speaking, while actual anecdotal accounts might reference fleeting impressions or emotions.

Skepticism and Belief

Public opinion on psychic phenomena is polarized, with skeptics and believers often at odds. Skeptics caution against gullibility, pointing to instances of fraud, the influence of cognitive biases, and the lack of empirical evidence as reasons for disbelief. On the other hand, staunch believers might dismiss skeptics as close minded or overly analytical.

However, a nuanced view acknowledges that both skepticism and belief have their merits. Blind skepticism might close one off to exploring uncharted territories of human experience, while unbridled belief risks being deceived by charlatans. An informed approach considers available evidence, remains open to possibilities, and constantly seeks deeper understanding, free from dogma.

New Age Influences and How to Avoid Them

The New Age movement, originating in the late 20th century, amalgamates various spiritual and metaphysical beliefs. While it has popularized many esoteric concepts, including some pertaining to psychic phenomena, it often does so without rigorous foundation or context.

To avoid undue New Age influences when exploring psychic phenomena:

Educate Yourself: Delve into historical, cultural, and scientific perspectives on psychic abilities. Understand that the New Age interpretation is just one among many.

Question Sources: Not all literature or speakers on psychic topics are reliable. Discern between those who have done comprehensive research and those echoing popular yet shallow narratives.

Practice Discernment: Be wary of commercialized aspects of the New Age movement, such as workshops or products that promise quick psychic awakenings without any substantial groundwork.

Theosophical Influences and How to Avoid Them

The Theosophical Society, founded in the 19th century, aimed to explore, study, and disseminate knowledge about the mystical and unknown. However, its interpretations of psychic and spiritual phenomena are specific to its doctrine.

To steer clear of Theosophical biases:

Broaden Your Horizon: While Theosophy offers a rich tapestry of esoteric thought, it's essential to explore other cultural, philosophical, and spiritual perspectives on psychic phenomena.

Recognize Distinctive Theosophical Concepts: By identifying core Theosophical tenets, one can differentiate them from other psychic or spiritual beliefs.

Engage in Open Discussion: Interacting with a diverse group of thinkers, researchers, and practitioners can help in discerning Theosophical influences from more universal or varied interpretations.

The Science Behind Psychic Abilities

Psychic phenomena have long captured human curiosity, leading to extensive investigations, both informal and academic. Over the past century, numerous institutions have endeavored to study psychic abilities under controlled conditions. These include efforts by prominent universities and independent research bodies.

One well-documented approach has been the use of Zener cards — a set of five symbols (circle, cross, waves, square, star) — to test for extrasensory perception (ESP). Participants predict the sequence of cards, and results are assessed against statistical probabilities to discern any significant deviations suggesting psychic abilities.

Another area of interest has been the study of telepathy, where participants, often in isolated chambers, attempt to transmit or receive thoughts, images, or emotions. Success rates beyond chance levels could, in theory, indicate telepathic capabilities.

Controversies and Criticisms

Despite the extensive body of research, psychic phenomena remain a contentious topic in the scientific community. Some of the primary criticisms include:

Replicability Issues: A foundational principle of science is that experiments should produce consistent results when replicated. Psychic phenomena, however, often lack this consistency, leading many to question their validity.

Methodological Flaws: Critics often point out potential flaws in the design or execution of psychic experiments. These could range from insufficient controls, potential biases, or even fraud.

Statistical Interpretations: While certain psychic studies claim statistical significance, skeptics argue that these could be anomalies or the result of incorrect data interpretation.

Potential Explanations

Given the elusive nature of psychic phenomena, several hypotheses have been proposed, ranging from the purely physiological to the quantum mechanical:

Subconscious Perception: Some suggest that what's perceived as psychic ability might be heightened sensitivity to subconscious cues. This could mean picking up on subtle body language, temperature changes, or even pheromones.

Quantum Mechanics: Some posit that the nonlocality principle in quantum physics, where particles can be interconnected over vast distances, might provide a framework for understanding psychic interconnections. Though this argument tends to be provided by those who do not understand quantum theory.

Unified Field Theory: Drawing from physics, some speculate that a yet to be discovered unified field might explain the interconnectedness of consciousness. Though this argument also tends to be provided by those who do not understand quantum theory.

Potential Biases Within Scientific Approaches

While the scientific method prides itself on objectivity, biases can infiltrate any field of study, including investigations into psychic phenomena:

Confirmation Bias: Researchers, like all individuals, can unconsciously favor data that aligns with their preexisting beliefs, potentially overlooking data that contradicts their hypotheses.

Publication Bias: Studies producing positive or sensational results are often more likely to be published than those with null or negative findings. This can skew the available literature and public perception.

Cultural and Historical Biases: Western scientific paradigms, rooted in materialism, might inherently dismiss phenomena that don't fit within this framework, whereas other cultures might approach the same phenomena differently.

It's crucial to approach psychic research with an awareness of these biases, ensuring comprehensive and balanced investigations.

Comfort with Paranormal Explanations and Experiences

Across the globe, individuals vary in their comfort levels with paranormal explanations. For some, a spiritual or mystical interpretation of an event is natural and enriching. For others, such interpretations might provoke discomfort, skepticism, or even fear.

Some cultures have rich traditions of spiritual and mystical experiences, making paranormal explanations more accepted and integrated. Direct personal experiences with phenomena that defy conventional explanations can either enhance comfort with the paranormal or, paradoxically, provoke greater skepticism. Awareness and understanding of various phenomena, whether through formal education, personal research, or exposure to diverse viewpoints, can influence one's comfort levels.

Developing Psychic Abilities: A Comprehensive Approach

The initial phase in understanding psychic abilities requires identifying subtle indications that point towards their potential presence. Historically, various cultures have believed in the capability of certain individuals to perceive information hidden from the regular senses. These potential indicators might include:

Heightened Sensitivity: Some individuals report a heightened sensitivity to their surroundings, especially in terms of emotions and energies. They often feel strong empathic connections, allowing them to sense the emotions and moods of those around them, even if subtly expressed.

Frequent Déjà vu: The sensation of having experienced something previously, even when encountering it for the first time, may indicate a potential psychic inclination. While this phenomenon can be explained by various neurological processes, some interpret it as a sign of precognitive ability.

Predictive Dreams: Though dreams often arise from the subconscious mind processing daily events, some individuals note dreams that appear to foretell future events. While not always accurate, these dreams' predictive nature often stands out due to its specificity and detail.

Practice Techniques

To nurture psychic abilities, one must employ certain techniques and exercises that are designed to enhance these potential faculties. Here are some scientificallyacknowledged methods that might be beneficial:

Meditation: Meditation is a tool that aids in focusing the mind and building awareness of one's thoughts and surroundings. By practicing regular meditation, individuals can develop a heightened sense of intuition and possibly tap into deeper levels of perception.

Mindfulness: Being present in the moment can help individuals become more attuned to their surroundings and the subtle energies therein. Practicing mindfulness, like meditation, can be a foundation for honing psychic skills by fostering a keen awareness of the world around us.

Exposure to Varied Stimuli: Engaging with diverse environments, cultures, and experiences can sharpen one's intuitive skills. By exposing oneself to a broad array of stimuli, it becomes easier to identify patterns and connections that might not be immediately obvious.

Consistent Training

Consistency is vital when cultivating any skill, and the development of psychic abilities is no exception. Regular practice and a commitment to growth are imperative. Keeping a record of experiences, feelings, and intuitions can be beneficial. Over time, patterns may emerge, providing insights into the development and accuracy of psychic abilities.

Seeking feedback from trusted sources helps in gauging the accuracy of one's psychic perceptions and offers opportunities for refinement. Engaging with literature and scholarly articles on topics like parapsychology, cognitive science, and neurology can provide a rounded understanding and facilitate better practices.

Identifying Cognitive Bias

While exploring psychic abilities, it is crucial to be aware of cognitive biases. These are systematic patterns of deviation from rationality in judgment, where individuals create their own subjective reality from their perception. Examples include:

Confirmation Bias: The tendency to seek, interpret, and remember information in a way that confirms one's preconceptions. In the context of psychic abilities, this might manifest as remembering only accurate predictions while disregarding inaccuracies.

Apophenia: The human tendency to perceive meaningful patterns within random data. This could lead individuals to believe they've identified significant psychic insights when, in fact, they're drawing connections from unrelated events.

Identifying Mental Illness Symptoms that Seem Like Psychic Abilities

It is essential to differentiate between genuine psychic experiences and symptoms of mental illnesses. Some symptoms can mimic psychic phenomena, such as:

Hallucinations: These are sensory experiences in which a person can hear, see, smell, taste, or feel something that isn't there. While some might interpret these as psychic visions or messages, they are often associated with conditions like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.

Delusions: Strongly held beliefs despite evidence to the contrary. For example, believing that one has a unique ability to predict events or read minds, when, in reality, evidence does not support these claims.

Hyperactivity and Racing Thoughts: Conditions such as bipolar disorder can lead to periods of hyperactivity and rapidly changing thoughts, which can be misconstrued as psychic energy or heightened intuition.

If you or someone you know shows symptoms of mental illness, you can find a list of assistance and services at the end of THIS article.

Psychic Abilities and the Mind

The intricate network of the human brain, with its myriad neural connections, governs how we think, act, and perceive the world. Central to our understanding of psychic abilities is the role of cognitive functions. These are the mental processes that allow us to carry out tasks, make decisions, and interpret the world around us. A cornerstone of cognition, memory allows us to store and retrieve information from the past. It's been posited that individuals who claim to have psychic abilities might have an enhanced or different utilization of memory, allowing them to recall events or details others might overlook.

The capacity to concentrate on specific stimuli or events in our environment is critical for any psychic exploration. An acute sense of attention might enable some individuals to pick up on subtle cues or information generally unnoticed by the average person. Processing Speed is the time it takes for an individual to interpret and respond to stimuli. A heightened processing speed might allow for faster interpretation of sensory input, which some argue could be linked to certain psychic phenomena.

Role of Subconscious

The subconscious mind, operating below the level of conscious awareness, is a vast reservoir of thoughts, memories, and feelings. Its role in psychic abilities is a topic of significant interest.

Our subconscious continuously processes information, even when we are not actively thinking about it. These processes can lead to sudden insights or "gut feelings" that seem to come out of nowhere but might, in reality, be the result of the subconscious working behind the scenes. While dreams are a regular part of the human experience, some propose that they can serve as a conduit for psychic information. The subconscious mind, active during dreaming, might present information in symbolic or direct ways that could be interpreted as precognitive or clairvoyant insights. The subconscious mind plays a pivotal role in our emotional responses. Some individuals claim to "feel" others' emotions, suggesting that their subconscious minds might be more attuned to emotional stimuli from the environment.

Perception and Intuition

At the intersection of psychic abilities and the mind lies the realm of perception and intuition. These faculties determine how we interpret the world and react to it, and they play a potentially significant role in psychic phenomena.

Enhanced Sensory Perception: Some who claim psychic abilities report a heightened sense of sight, hearing, or other senses. This enhanced perception allows them to detect stimuli that others might miss, potentially leading to insights that seem psychic in nature.

Gut Feelings: Intuition, often described as a "gut feeling," is a form of innate understanding or knowledge without the need for conscious reasoning. While everyone experiences intuition to some degree, its role in psychic abilities might be more pronounced. This intuitive sense might be more developed or refined in some individuals, leading to perceptions that are out of the ordinary.

Pattern Recognition: Humans are naturally inclined to seek patterns in the environment, a trait that has evolutionary advantages. However, some propose that those with psychic inclinations might have an enhanced ability for pattern recognition, allowing them to see connections or insights that might elude others.

Ethical Considerations in the Exploration of Psychic Abilities

The exploration of psychic abilities is not merely an introspective journey; it often intersects with the lives of others, especially when abilities are employed to provide insights or guidance. Herein lies the critical juncture of ethical use versus misuse.

Objective Approach: It is paramount for individuals claiming to possess psychic abilities to approach every situation with an objective mindset. Allowing biases or personal beliefs to interfere can lead to skewed interpretations, which might misguide those seeking counsel.

Financial Exploitation: With the commercialization of psychic readings and related services, there is a risk of financial exploitation. Ethical practitioners should be transparent about their services' costs and avoid exorbitant fees or manipulative tactics that compel repeated visits.

False Claims: Authenticity and truthfulness are fundamental. Individuals should refrain from making unsubstantiated claims about their abilities or the results they can achieve, as this can mislead and potentially harm others.

Respecting Privacy

Delving into the personal lives of others, whether intentionally or inadvertently, comes with significant ethical implications.

Unsolicited Readings: It is ethically questionable to provide unsolicited readings or insights into another person's life or situation. Even if one believes they have valuable information, it is essential to respect boundaries and only offer insights when explicitly asked.

Confidentiality: Similar to medical or therapeutic professions, individuals offering psychic services should maintain strict confidentiality. People's personal information, emotions, and situations should never be divulged without explicit consent.

Consideration of Potential Harm

The potential repercussions of psychic readings or interventions are not always immediately apparent. Therefore, a deep sense of responsibility and foresight is required.

Emotional Impact: Interactions can leave a lasting emotional imprint. Whether the information shared is positive or negative, practitioners must be sensitive to how it might affect an individual emotionally and mentally.

Dependency: There's a potential risk of individuals becoming overly reliant on psychic insights, sidelining their own judgment or decisionmaking abilities. Ethical practitioners should encourage autonomy and personal growth rather than fostering dependency.

Physical Actions: On rare occasions, insights or predictions might prompt individuals to take specific actions in their lives. It's crucial for those with psychic inclinations to understand the weight of their words and the potential physical ramifications they might have on others.

Psychic Abilities in Different Cultures

The concept of psychic abilities, while interpreted differently, exists in some form across various global cultures. Each culture's perspective provides a unique lens through which to understand and appreciate these phenomena.

Eastern Perspectives

In many Eastern traditions, psychic abilities are often interwoven with spiritual and philosophical systems.

Buddhism: Within Buddhist traditions, especially in Tibetan Buddhism*, there are references to "siddhis," which are supernormal powers attained through meditation and spiritual practice. These can range from clairvoyance to precognition. While these abilities are acknowledged, they're often considered secondary to the ultimate goal of enlightenment.

Hinduism*: Ancient Hindu scriptures, particularly the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, detail various psychic abilities termed "vibhuti." These abilities are said to emerge as one progresses along the path of yoga. However, they're treated with caution and are not the primary focus of spiritual development.

Daoism*: In Daoist traditions of China, psychic phenomena might be attributed to the harnessing of "qi" or vital energy. Daoist practitioners often engage in exercises to cultivate and balance qi, which in turn can lead to heightened abilities.

Western Perspectives

The Western world, influenced by a mix of JudeoChristian beliefs, scientific rationalism, and GrecoRoman philosophies, has its own take on psychic phenomena.

Ancient Greece: Oracles, like the famed Oracle of Delphi, played essential roles in ancient Greek society. These priestesses were believed to possess the ability to communicate with the gods and offer prophecies.

Medieval Europe: During the Middle Ages, individuals who claimed to have psychic abilities or other supernatural powers often faced persecution, associated with witchcraft and heresy.

Modern Era: With the rise of spiritualism in the 19th and 20th centuries, psychic abilities gained renewed interest. While often met with skepticism, especially from the scientific community, there remains a segment of the Western population that believes in and seeks out psychic experiences.

Indigenous Beliefs

Indigenous American Cultures: Among the Navajo*, there are individuals known as "hand tremblers" who are believed to diagnose illnesses or predict events. Similarly, the Lakota Sioux have "heyokas" or sacred clowns, who act in ways contrary to societal norms and offer unique insights.

Aboriginal Australians*: Dreamtime stories and spiritual beliefs play a central role in Aboriginal culture. The concept of "Dreaming" refers to both the ancient stories of creation and the personal dreamjourney of an individual, which can offer guidance and insights.

Shamanic Cultures of Siberia*: The term "shaman" originates from the Tungusic peoples of Siberia. Shamans in these cultures serve as intermediaries between the human and spirit worlds, accessing knowledge and healing through altered states of consciousness.

Maori of New Zealand*: The Maori have "tohunga," experts in specific areas, including those who interpret signs, dreams, and omens. They play a crucial role in guiding societal decisions and understanding the world.

African Cultures: Among the Dagara* of West Africa, there are individuals recognized as having a unique connection to the spirit world, often identified at a young age and trained to serve the community. Similarly, the Zulu* of South Africa have the "sangoma," traditional healers who diagnose and treat illnesses and communicate with ancestors.

Psychic Abilities and Personal Growth

The exploration of psychic abilities transcends mere curiosity about the supernatural. For many, it is an avenue towards profound personal growth, fostering a deeper understanding of oneself and one's place in the larger tapestry of human experience.

Self-awareness and Understanding

The journey into psychic phenomena often demands a heightened sense of selfawareness. This introspective path can lead to significant personal revelations.

Delving into psychic practices necessitates continual selfreflection. This process can unearth previously unrecognized aspects of one's character, beliefs, and motivations. Such insights offer opportunities for personal development and transformation. The exploration of psychic abilities can help individuals distinguish between their inner voice — that intuitive sense of knowing — and the cacophony of external influences. Recognizing and trusting this voice can guide decision making and foster a stronger sense of identity.

Some individuals believe that their psychic inclinations provide clarity about their life's purpose or direction. By tapping into these abilities, they feel more aligned with their personal and spiritual goals.

Emotional and Mental Health

The intertwining of psychic exploration and emotional and mental wellbeing is multifaceted and profound.

Processing Trauma: For some, psychic practices serve as a conduit for addressing and processing past traumas. By confronting these issues, individuals often find a path to healing and acceptance.

Managing Stress: Techniques often associated with psychic development, such as meditation and mindfulness, are beneficial for managing stress. These practices promote relaxation, mental clarity, and emotional balance.

Boosting Confidence: Recognizing and honing psychic abilities can bolster confidence. Individuals often feel empowered by their unique insights and the validation they receive from accurate perceptions or predictions.

Influence on Relationships

The ripple effects of psychic exploration extend into interpersonal relationships, shaping interactions and connections in various ways.

Enhanced Empathy: A heightened sensitivity to the emotions and energies of others can foster deeper empathy. This understanding can lead to more compassionate and supportive interactions with loved ones.

Navigating Conflicts: With increased intuition and perception, individuals might find it easier to navigate conflicts. Recognizing underlying issues or emotions can facilitate communication and resolution.

Building Trust: For those who share their psychic experiences with close friends or family, it can foster trust. When perceptions or insights prove accurate, it reinforces the bond between the psychic individual and those they interact with.

Psychic Abilities and Shadow Work

Shadow work refers to the process of confronting and understanding the darker, often suppressed facets of oneself. The interplay between psychic abilities and shadow work is intricate.

Unearthing Hidden Fears: Psychic experiences can bring to the surface latent fears or insecurities. These revelations, while challenging, are essential for personal growth. By addressing these fears, individuals can move towards holistic wellbeing.

Confronting Denial: Denial is a defense mechanism, shielding individuals from painful truths. However, psychic insights can pierce this veil, forcing a confrontation with realities one might prefer to ignore. This confrontation, though initially unsettling, is a step towards authenticity and selfacceptance.

Integration for Wholeness: The culmination of shadow work, when combined with psychic exploration, is the integration of all aspects of oneself. Recognizing and accepting both light and dark facets lead to a more balanced and whole self.

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This article was reviewed and edited by ChatGPT

[talon-dragonbeast]

niche kin appreciation 22: create a "beginners guide" to your kin

what is an enderman?

endermen (sometimes called enderfolk) are inhabitants of the End, a dimension almost completely devoid of life that features in the popular videogame Minecraft. they are humanoid creatures characterized by their black skin and purple eyes, long arms and legs, large ears, and tail. endermen are able to teleport, and attack players when they look them in the eyes.

canon (left) - my version (right)

where do endermen live?

despite their name, endermen can be found in all three dimensions!

the End is their home dimension. although not all endermen are born in the End, most will spend at least some time in this dimension, as its considered an important cultural tradition and gives them the opportunity to form or join a haunting (the enderman family unit). as mentioned above, its almost completely barren, with endermen, shulkers and endermites being the only organisms capable of surviving there in the long term. and not for any reason: in the End there is only rock, obsidian and void. the only food available is the chorus fruit, which makes you teleport when you eat it, and there is no water.

the Nether is an underground dimension, accessible only by portal. it is an incredibly hot place, full of lava and monsters, where if you try to sleep on a bed, it will Literally Explode with you in it. in this dimension, endermen are only really able to thrive in a biome called the Warped Forest, and only because the temperature there is significantly lower. as the name implies, it is a forest, only instead of trees there are giant tree-like fungi with cyan "leaves" and redish-purple "trunks" growing out the ground.

the Overworld is where players live. it is a rich dimension where you can get food from the ground and the animals around you, and water is found in every corner (and even falls from the sky sometimes!). the endermen that live here are called Wanderers, and little is known about how they live. these endermen are... peculiar, reclusive; not quite lost, but you couldnt say that theyre not lost either.

what are their abilities?

endermen can teleport from one place to another, and from one dimension to another. when they scream, they can unhinge their jaws and emit a strange static noise that gets louder and louder until its almost unbearable to hear. they are slightly telepathic, and are able to perceive others intentions, emotions, and even thoughts, through a psychic bond that is voluntarily formed through eye contact. they have claws that can easily kill a player in a couple of blows, and are very agile, allowing them to dodge arrows.

what are their weaknesses?

endermen are weak to water. they dont really have to drink anymore because they evolved to survive in the End, where the only available water is dissolved in the air. they are used to absorbing small quantities of water through the skin via osmosis, so when even the smallest drop of water touches their skin, their cells absorb it too quickly and explode. this is manifested macroscopically as very painful burns, at least until the water stops touching their skin.

whenever a player looks an enderman in the eyes, it is forced to freeze in place, becoming unable to move until the eye contact is broken. this is because of the aforementioned psychic bond, that is forcibly opened between the enderman and the player and is incredibly taboo to do outside of hauntings. when the player stops looking, the enderman becomes enraged due to the pain and the taboo, and attacks the player, usually killing them. some players wear carved pumpkins on their heads to be able to look at endermen without fear of being attacked. this works, for some unknown reason.

if endermen could talk, what would they say?

Block Good. more chorus fruit P.lease :]

original

[willowthehollow]

Soo i had an idea for a Sonic AU Fanfiction - including most of the cast, as well as Infinite & the whole Phantom Ruby story Ark.

- so more or less Sonic Mania -> Sonic Forces AU. Would anybody be interested in reading my Sonic AU Fanfiction if i wrote that out - let me know! :)

Shattered Reflections: Echoes of the Phantom Ruby

The Phantom Ruby — an artifact of unimaginable power, capable of twisting reality and time itself. To lay a hand upon it was to court madness, to lose all sense of truth, and be swallowed by the illusions it conjured. Those who sought its power inevitably fell victim, their minds warped beyond recognition, turning even the noblest hearts to darkness, sparking eons of bloodshed and chaos, spreading ruin throughout the Dark Force Dimension.

To prevent further corruption, an ancient and powerful race of demonic beings from the Dark Force Dimension made an costly choice — the ultimate sacrifice. They sealed their emotions within an ancient artifact, severing all desires, ambitions, and personal attachments. In doing so, they became the "Hollows" —a race devoid of emotional weakness, cold and unyielding, their existence driven solely by logic. They were the only beings immune to the manipulations of the Phantom Ruby. Bound by an unwavering sense of duty and order, they swore to guard the Ruby, to keep it sealed away for eternity, hidden on Demon Island — protected from the outside world and the chaos it could bring.

For eons, they held to this vow, their hearts hollowed by the need to protect the fabric of reality itself. - Until one fateful night.

A burst of energy, more powerful than anything the Hollows had ever witnessed, tore through Demon Island. The Phantom Ruby had woken up, pulsing with life like never before. Some theorized it had been triggered by an outside force—perhaps something interdimentional - perhaps from Sonic’s world—disturbing the delicate balance of the interdimensional rifts But no matter the cause, the Ruby’s power was too much.

The Hollows, attempted to contain the surge. They fought to prevent the disaster, but to no avail. The Phantom Ruby, radiated power, its energy flowing across Demon Island like a heartbeat that echoed through the whole universe. And then, in an instant — The Dark Force Dimension shattered and with that the first Nullspace was born. - The absolute nothingness. It consumed everything in its path: Demon Island, the Hollows, the very dimension itself. The Hollows' existence was erased from all history, their sacred vow lost to the Nullspace and its empty void, along with the artifact that had once sealed away their emotions.

But… someone survived.

Willow - now the last of the Hollows - one of the few who had come close to unraveling the secrets of the Phantom Ruby. For centuries, she had studied it, drawn by an inexplicable connection she could never fully understand — yet one that had sustained her, keeping her alive and youthful across the ages. Lately, however, she had been plagued by visions —fragments of a future she just couldn’t seem to ignore. She saw beings from beyond her dimension — figures she knew weren't from her world, or dimension: Sonic, Tails, Shadow. The visions foretold a coming disaster, a catastrophe of interdimensional scale—unlike any before.

But the Elders dismissed her warnings. For centuries, the Ruby had remained sealed, undisturbed. And Willow? She was just ... - a witch - an outsider to their sacred traditions. Never trained Never tought under guidance Never granted a title of mastery in their revered mage academy. She was self-taught - a rogue scholar in a society where independent magic was frowned upon — a disgrace to the structured, disciplined ways of the Hollows. The Phantom Ruby would never choose her.

Yet, no matter how much they denied it, she couldn’t shake the overwhelming certainty that something was coming.

Her profound knowledge of the Phantom Ruby, her unwavering discipline, and her mastery of magic meant nothing in the end. When the Ruby broke free, unleashing Nullspace, even she was powerless to stop it. All her magic did was - make her survive. Make her - watch - as her dimension, friends and home disintegrated into nothingness before her eyes. - in the face of the Phantom Ruby everthing is powerless

As the dimensional rift reached its peak, a breach in reality opened, and Willow was cast adrift, spiraling through the endless void. Until, at last— She crashed into a world far from her own. Angel Island. The anti-dimensional counterpart to the lost homeland of the Hollows. Willow awoke, disoriented and confused, in a world that was not her own, found by Sonic and Tails, drawn to the island by the sudden surge of power that had ruptured their world. And the Ruby was gone — stolen by Dr. Eggman A man whose desires mirrored those who had had caused war and chaos before. Another soul blinded by the Ruby’s seductive promises: Power.

Let me know if you would like me to write that ff out and maybe you guys know where i should post this xD

[wooliguns]

TIGHNARI: Capacious Extremis

The Undetectable Extension Charm, or simply Extension Charms (Capacious Extremis) is a charm that extends the internal dimensions of the target object without affecting the external dimensions.

The sky above Hogwarts is its usual brand of melancholy: charcoal grey, sulking above the turrets like a moody portrait subject, and leaking cold mist down onto the castle stones with the passive-aggressive consistency of a dripping tap. No wonder Venti, snuggled around Tighnari’s leg like a cat who’s claimed the sunniest spot in the room, is fast asleep, his breath soft and sweet-scented from too many sugar quills. They’ve holed themselves away in the comfort of the Hufflepuff dormitory—a subterranean den just off the kitchens, all brass knobs, plump cushions, and the gratifying smell of chocolate eclair and toasted hazelnut—under the noble excuse of a free period. Transfiguration is still a good thirty minutes away. Tighnari would go mad sitting outside in the wind like the rest of them. Besides, he’s reading.

At least he’s pretending to.

The book in his lap is thick and moth-eared, an obscure tome on ancient magical artefacts with a particularly battered chapter on the Invisibility Cloak—the Invisibility Cloak. He isn’t reading for fun, though he’s always had a fascination with relics; no, this is strategic. If such a cloak does still exist, and if someone hasn’t already hoarded it into a Gringotts vault, he’d very much like one. Not for mischief or mayhem, but for survival. Because last week, quite without warning, Tighnari turned into a fox. A fennec fox, to be exact—ears like satellite dishes, memory like a soap bubble, and absolutely no sense of dignity. And he was naked when he changed back.

Mortifying doesn’t begin to cover it.

One moment he was feeling lightheaded, supposing his bones were trying to argue with one another, and the next, he was fur-deep in instinct and confusion, tripping over his own paws, lost in the underbrush. When he came to, freezing and clothes nowhere to be found, he’d stumbled right into a certain Ravenclaw—that Ravenclaw—who had gawked like he’d never seen a boy before. And ever since, Cyno has been behaving as though Tighnari’s bare backside is a Dementor that’s taken up permanent residence in his brain.

Honestly.

For someone who’d seemed so calm at the time—so gallantly helpful, even walking him back to the dormitories like some sort of knight in muddy robes—Cyno has developed a truly unforgivable habit of bringing it up. In front of others. Loudly. Without shame. He doesn’t say it outright, no, but it’s in the way he glances at Tighnari’s behind as though it’s a cursed object, and then pretends to be mortally embarrassed about it, as if Tighnari hadn’t noticed. Eugh!

Take this morning, for instance. Tighnari had waved at him across the Great Hall—an innocent, cordial gesture—and Cyno had dropped his spoon into his porridge as though he’d been hit with the Stunning Spell. That was the third time he’d avoided eye contact in twenty-four hours. It was getting to be a thing.

But … He’s Cyno, after all, and quite possibly the most dorkish fool Tighnari has ever met. Why he was sorted into Ravenclaw, Tighnari might never know, but alas. Tighnari sighs.

He sighs because he knows the real problem isn’t Cyno. It’s himself. The transformation. Because when he’s a fox, he’s not entirely him. His human thoughts slip away like sand through a sieve. He doesn’t remember where he goes, what he sees, or what he does. It’s dangerous, especially in the Forbidden Forest, where one wrong turn can land you in the belly of a Thestral or tangled in Devil’s Snare. He’s read about people like him—curse-bearers, shape-shifters tied to ancestral magic, old bloodlines that sprouted fur once they came of age. His mother had explained it with a half-laugh and a lot of tea. It was normal, she said. It was tradition. Apparently, he’s an “early bloomer,” which is code for “I forgot to warn you this might happen.”

Great parenting, truly.

Two uncles had suffered the same fate, she told him via owl post, both germinating tails before their eighteenth birthday. His aunts, meanwhile, transformed late—another charming quirk of the bloodline. Nobody thought to mention any of this until Tighnari woke up in the woods with leaves in places no leaf should ever be. He’d written a furious letter home; the reply had been infuriatingly cheerful.

And then there’s Cyno. Cyno, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Cyno, who asked no questions and offered his cloak. Cyno, who now stares at him like he’s been cursed by a Hobgoblin and can’t shake the image.

What was he doing in the forest that night anyway? Sigh.

Tighnari leans back on the cushion, the book long since forgotten, and watches the fire coruscate in the hearth. Part of him wants to pull Cyno aside, lay it all out, explain the transformation, the risk, the reason he was alone. But the other part—the part curled up like Venti at his feet—wants to stay quiet and see what happens next. Because Cyno, for all his twitchiness, hadn’t run . He’d stayed. He’d even walked him home.

A bit awkwardly, yes. Possibly while thinking very inappropriate things. But he had stayed.

Tighnari sighs and runs a hand through his hair. That Ravenclaw might be the death of me.

The bed gives a subtle creak, and Tighnari peers down to find Venti stirring, still curled along his shin, limbs folded in the odd sort of way that suggests he'd happily sleep through a thunderstorm—or a clash. Tighnari temporises, then reaches out, carding his fingers gingerly through the loose strands of Venti’s hair, the ends glowing a touch of green like sea-glass under moonshine. “Are you awake now?” he murmurs.

Venti yawns, a songbird just roused from its perch, voice all breath and gossamer. “I suppose I am… The thoughts are louder today.”

Tighnari freezes. Panic bubbles up at once. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, not yours,” Venti says quickly, cracking open one luminous eye—jade and gold, glittering like candlelight through stained bifocals. “The others. From upstairs. They’re shouting about Transfiguration homework and last night’s Potions disaster—frankly, you’re a balm in comparison. Yours are always so neat. So thoughtful. Your thinking voice is rather lovely, actually.”

The panic subsides, replaced by something warm and embarrassed. Tighnari rolls his eyes. “You flatter me.”

“I do,” Venti hums, stretching like a vine toward the ceiling. His shirt is half untucked, his robes skewed across his shoulders, and his tie is slung so loosely it may as well be a scarf. He looks like a walking misdemeanour. “Anyway,” he croons, blinking owlishly, “you saw Cyno that night too, didn’t you?”

Tighnari’s spine coagulates. “I—yes.” He hadn’t told Venti. Not that part. Not about the woods, or the full moon, or the way his body had folded inward and shrunk until all he knew was the wild rush of earth and instinct and fur. Not about Cyno, either—the boy who’d found him in the aftermath, trembling and human and entirely, humiliatingly bare.

Venti nods, gaze softening. “That was your first transformation, wasn’t it?”

Tighnari bites his lip. “I didn’t even know it was coming. My mum told me I’d turn at eighteen. I’ve still got months left. It just… happened. Briefly. Awfully.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“You couldn’t have known. I didn’t know. I just—” he trails off, fingers nervously toying with the cuff of his sleeve. “It was sudden. I barely remember anything. Except how cold it was. And how exposed.”

Venti winces sympathetically. “But when Cyno found you, you were already human again, right?”

“Yeah.” The word comes out small.

There’s a pause, delicate as lace.

Tighnari lowers his voice. “What do you think would’ve happened if he’d seen me… as a fox?”

Venti looks at him sidelong, and there’s a mischief in his grin, slow and crooked like a secret knocking to be let in. “Honestly? Probably would’ve tried to pet you. Or built you a little jumper.”

“A jumper.”

“A very Ravenclaw thing to do.”

Tighnari groans, and Venti lets out a trill of laughter—bright, bell-like, one that always makes Tighnari smile in spite of himself. Venti wipes his eyes, still chuckling, and rises from the bed with an exaggerated stretch.

“I’m being serious,” he says, brushing invisible dust from his sleeves. “Cyno’s wonderful. Odd as a jar of pickled Puffskeins, but wonderful.”

Tighnari folds his arms. “Do you read his thoughts often?”

“Hardly. He’s quite disciplined, mentally speaking. Usually thinks about food, Quidditch formations, or obscure Magical Law codes.” Venti glances into the mirror and adjusts his collar. “You should hear the way he catalogues feast menus in his head. It’s a whole system.”

That makes Tighnari laugh aloud. “He memorises the house-elf rotations, doesn’t he?”

“Like scripture. And don’t get me started on how he thinks about his friends.”

Tighnari’s smile falters.

“Xiao, you mean?” he asks, carefully.

Venti doesn’t flinch. “Yes. Xiao. I love him, you know.”

Tighnari narrows his eyes. “Like you want to marry him?”

Venti scoffs, mock-offended, brushing off invisible lint again. “No. Like I want him to live a thousand years, and never feel lonely once.”

“…Right.”

Venti grins at him over his shoulder. “Shall we head to class before the clock hexes us for dawdling?”

Tighnari peers at the grandfather clock tucked in the corner. “Probably should.”

“Give me a moment—” With a flick of his wand, Venti’s hair braids itself in perfect symmetry, not a strand out of place. Tighnari raises a brow, then lifts his own wand and mutters, Orchideous. Tiny blossoms emerge across the braids, white and daffodil-yellow, gleaming against the cool blue of Venti’s ombré strands.

“There. Much better.”

Venti eyes himself in the mirror, then snorts. “Maybe for a ball. Not for Transfiguration. Nice try, Mr. Herbology Genius.” He swishes the flowers away with a wink.

Tighnari blinks. “Mr. Herbology Genius?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know…” Venti sing-songs, adjusting his robes with a theatrical whirl.

“I would, actually. Who said it?”

“Not telling.” And with that, he darts out the door, laughter tracking behind like petals in the wind.

“Venti!” Tighnari calls, grabbing his satchel.

“Better hurry, Tee!” rolls the voice from the corridor. “We do want to graduate eventually!”

And with that, they’re off—two figures melting into the chatter and jumble of Hogwarts, one armed with secrets, the other with questions. All wrapped in charm and robes and that particular brand of magic only friendship can conjure.

**

The trek to Transfiguration with Professor Dainsleif is, as usual, a descent into the sort of social bedlam solely Hogwarts could nurture; a corridor parade of robes, house scarves, and prattle thick enough to choke a Dementor. Classroom 1B, tucked just off the middle courtyard, smells fuzzily of chalk dust and overcooked toadstools, and is already chiming with the voices of seventh-year witches clamouring around Venti like bees to honeywater.

They fawn over him, as always, swathed across desks and dangling parchment, vying for his attention with the desperate poise of girls who’ve long since weaponised curiosity. The reason? Venti’s rare little secret, whispered through every corridor and cloakroom in the castle: he’s a Legilimens. And the worst-kept secret at that.

They don’t even bother to be subtle about it. One moment he’s yawning into his sleeve, and the next he’s fielding breathless questions from half the upper years—“Barbatos, do you think Tamara really dated Yohan?” “Did his thoughts say he’s still into her?” “Oh, Merlin, check if he fancied Trina in fifth year—she had the most awful bangs back then!”

Tighnari sits stiffly beside him, back ramrod straight, quill hovering over his half-inked parchment, pretending to read his notes while pointedly not listening to the gaggle of girls flinging gossip like dungbombs. He’s voiced his disapproval more times than he can count—it’s a gross misuse of Venti’s gift, prying like that—but Venti always waves it off with a breezy smile and that exasperating little shrug that means it's fine, really, I like it. And Tighnari, traitor to his own principles, always lets it slide.

Because it makes Venti laugh.

And because Tighnari would rather set himself on fire than wipe the grin off Venti’s face.

Today’s scandal involves a Slytherin named Yohan, a Gryffindor named Tamara, and a crime against haircuts from fourth year. Venti hums along as if conducting an orchestra of secrets, scribbling observations on spare parchment while Chen, a sharp-tongued Gryffindor with opinions and no filters, sits cross-legged on the desk in front of him, declaring Tamara “utterly insufferable” and “absolutely not good enough” for a boy whose father works with the Quidditch World Cup. Tighnari tries very hard not to judge the obsession with bloodlines—he really does—but it’s exhausting watching witches talk about lineage like it’s a competition category in the Triwizard Tournament.

Just as he’s about to shove a flower stem in his ear to block them out, the door bangs open.

In saunter Cyno, Xiao, and, of course, Scaramouche, all late and radiating the brand of unapologetic audacity that’s practically patented. Professor Dainsleif looks up from his scrolls with a thin-lipped expression of cold disdain. The man could silence a werewolf with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re fifteen minutes late,” he says evenly. “Care to explain?”

Cyno steps forward, calm as he is. “Apologies, Professor. There was a—”

“Why do you care?” Scaramouche cuts in flatly, voice dripping with contempt and just enough pure-blood arrogance to spark a small riot. The room freezes. Parchments hover overhead. Even the enchanted chalk on the blackboard squeaks to a halt.

Tighnari suppresses a sigh so powerful it might have disrupted the Hogwarts weather systems. He looks instinctively toward Kazuha, seated a few spots over by the windowsill, framed in slanted light like a painting someone forgot to frame properly. The boy doesn’t even blink. Just continues gazing dreamily outside, as if Scaramouche hasn’t just insulted a veteran professor with the subtlety of a Bludger to the face.

Professor Dainsleif’s voice is quiet. Reticent. “What did you say?”

Xiao yanks on Scaramouche’s sleeve like someone dragging a niffler out of Gringotts. “Just come on,” he mutters. “Let it go.”

Miraculously, Scaramouche lets himself be towed to the back of the classroom. Tighnari watches with narrowed eyes as they scavenge for seats, Scaramouche towering over a fifth-year until the poor student bolts without even finishing his sentence. Utterly vile behaviour—and Kazuha, upsettingly, merely shrugs, mouthing, I still like him, before returning to his notes as if nothing has happened. As if Scaramouche hadn’t just reminded the entire room why he’s loathed across all four houses and probably the kitchens, too.

Tighnari wants to shake him. Kazuha, not Scaramouche. Though the latter would be satisfying as well.

He doesn’t understand it—never has. Kazuha, who’s soft-spoken and curious, a Muggleborn with an affection for ordinary things like pencils and lamplight and music players that click instead of charm. Kazuha, who should be the last person in the world to admire someone like that. But admire he does. Not romantically (Tighnari is almost certain of that), but with a fascination so pure it borders on academic. As if Scaramouche is an unusual magical creature to be studied in its natural, brooding habitat.

Once, in the dormitory, Kazuha said Scaramouche reminded him of firewood left out in the rain—difficult to light, but warm once you managed.

Tighnari thinks he’s more like a cursed cauldron. Explosive, bitter, and very likely to kill you if handled improperly.

Still, he watches Kazuha watch Scaramouche, and he can’t help but wonder what secret layer Kazuha sees beneath the sneering, sash-wrapped pomposity. Maybe one day he’ll ask. Or maybe he won’t. With Kazuha, the mystery is part of the allure.

As for Scaramouche—well. He’s an enigma best left unsolved, like whatever foul spell made him that rude in the first place. And Tighnari, who prefers plants to people nine days out of ten, has absolutely no interest in digging deeper.

Probably.

Maybe.

Fine—only if Kazuha insists. Pft.

The lesson ends with the wonted flurry of scraping chairs, gossiping students, and someone accidentally setting a scroll on fire. This subject in particular has never been a sober affair, and today is no exception. As students file out, Haypasia, green-haired, goggle-eyed, and perpetually distracted, sidles up to Venti with the nimbus of an intruder about to bring light to something dishonorable.

“Venti,” she asks, wringing her hands, “do you know if Scaramouche fancies anyone?”

A question so harebrained Tighnari nearly chokes on his quill.

“Oh?” Venti tilts his head, blinking slowly. “What a curious inquiry. Intriguing, even.”

“He’s always so—” Haypasia makes an odd threshing gesture, like someone swatting at a Billywig. “—intense. But I’ve fancied him for ages . And I’m pure-blood,” she adds, a little too proudly. “That must count for something, right?”

Venti’s eyes twinkle. “He mostly thinks everyone around him is detestable, but I suppose that tallies as romantic neutrality.”

Tighnari mutters, “Neutral, my tail. He’d hex his own reflection if it blinked wrong.”

Ignoring him, Venti turns back to Haypasia. “I could tell you if he likes someone, but not who he likes. That would be cheating.”

Her face lights up like a lantern charm. “Oooh! Like a riddle!”

“Exactly,” Venti grins, scribbling something on the corner of his notes. “Let the game begin.”

He glances at Scaramouche across the room, who sits with his standard mien of murder-in-progress. No flutter of thought. No bat of sentiment. Just the intramural holler of a boy allergic to everything around him.

“Well?” Haypasia prompts.

“Nothing,” Venti announces. “He thinks Transfiguration is a waste of breath and Professor Dainsleif should be turned into a frog.”

“Oh…” she murmurs, visibly deflating.

“But I’ll keep an eye on him,” Venti appends cheerfully. “Could be a slow burn.”

With Haypasia gone, Tighnari rolls up his vellum and levels a look at his best friend. “You really ought to stop feeding their fantasies.”

Venti shrugs, packing up his bag with thespian innocence. “What can I say? I like making people happy.”

“You’re violating privacy. Scaramouche could hex you six ways to Saturday.”

“He wouldn’t dare. Besides, I only pick up what’s on the surface—nothing too deep.”

Tighnari arches a sceptical brow. “Except Tamara’s third-year cheating scandal?”

Venti winks. “Ancient history.”

They exit the classroom into the hallway, jostled by students scuttling toward their next period. But before Tighnari can launch into a proper scolding, Venti falters halfway point—his body stuttering like a clock gone off-beat. His eyes, bright a moment ago, brim suddenly with tears.

“Oh no,” Tighnari grouses, catching him before he crumples. “Not again.”

“It’s not mine,” Venti whispers, clutching his temple. “The thoughts—I didn’t mean to hear them. Someone’s... someone’s hurting, Tighnari. Missing their mum. Feeling abandoned. Like they’re all alone and just—adrift.”

Tighnari’s heart twists. This part of Venti’s gift, the part that tears him open like paper, never gets easier to witness. He pulls his friend into a protective hug as Venti sniffles into his collar, and students pass them by with wary glances, pretending not to stare.

A tap on his shoulder. Tighnari turns to find Xiao and Cyno watching them with wordless concern. Cyno, unfortunately, speaks first.

“Hi, bum—I mean—Tighnari!”

Tighnari narrows his eyes, exhaling hard enough to rustle his own fringe. “Say that again, and I’m feeding you to my compost pile.”

“Sorry!” Cyno squeaks, distinctly wanting to disappear.

Xiao, ever the saviour, steps in. “Did something happen?” His voice is soft but close-grained, his amber eyes trained on Venti, who’s still dabbing at his face.

Cyno frowns. “Is he alright?”

“I’m fine,” Venti croaks unconvincingly, attempting a smile that fools no one.

And then—of course—Scaramouche appears, arms crossed, impatience rolling off him like dark fog. “Oi. Xiao. Cyno. Let’s go. I’m not waiting around for your little tea party.”

Tighnari turns to respond, but Kazuha arrives first, calm as a lake with no waves. “Something wrong?” he asks, gaze flitting between the group.

“Venti remembered something sad,” Tighnari explains tightly. Not a lie. Not quite the truth either.

Kazuha nods. “Want to talk about it, Venti?”

But before anyone can answer, Scaramouche steps in and ruins everything.

“Oh, for Salazar’s sake,” he sneers, marching up and grabbing Venti’s arms. “What is this? Are you deaf and dramatic now?”

“Oi!” Tighnari snaps, fury boiling in his chest.

“Scara!” Xiao barks, louder than anyone’s ever heard him. Even Scaramouche stumbles. Xiao pushes him back, teeth clenched. “ Don’t touch him.”

Scaramouche blinks, caught off guard. He looks like he’s about to argue—until Kazuha steps forward, pacific and lethal, and gently cups Venti’s face like one would a shattered teacup.

“This,” Kazuha says softly, “is how you handle people.”

The corridor goes silent. Even Scaramouche stares, a peculiar expression passing over his face; something crabbed, a nictate of thought he doesn’t voice. Awe, maybe. Or recognition.

“I… I need to go,” Venti murmurs suddenly, stepping back, his voice cracking. “Tighnari, Kazuha—let’s go.”

And they do, slipping into the crowd, the bustle of the corridor swallowing them whole. When they’re far enough from the others, Tighnari casts a sideways glance. “Venti, what was that?”

“I’ll explain later,” Venti mutters, voice as thin as palimpsest.

But Tighnari knows that look, that far-off ache in his friend’s eyes, and he suspects this time, it’s not just someone else’s pain he’s feeling. It might be his own.

**

They tumble out of the stairwell like a mismatched set of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans—Kazuha with his orthodox countenance of windblown serenity, Venti ambling behind, fingers twitching as if plucking invisible harp strings, and Tighnari, ears alert, senses prickling, eternally the vigilant observer, as he should.

The corridor leading to the kitchens is dull, save for the soft squelch of their footsteps against the flagstones. Tighnari’s nose twitches; no scent of vinegar—good. They haven’t triggered any of the Hufflepuff barrel traps today. He taps the rhythm of ‘Helga Hufflepuff’ on the correct keg, and it swings open to reveal the earthy passage leading to their common room.

Inside, the Hufflepuff common room is an oasis of balminess and comfort. The low ceiling, reminiscent of a badger’s sett, is adorned with hanging copper-bottomed plant holders, from which ferns and ivy dangle, brushing against their heads as they pass. The walls are lined with circular shelves holding various cacti, some of which sway gently, as if greeting them. The room is bathed in the cheerful bee-like colours of daffodil and jet-black, with honey-coloured wood gleaming in the firelight. Above the mantelpiece, a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff raises a tiny, two-handled golden cup in a perpetual toast.

They flump around the fireplace, each claiming a cushion. Tighnari’s ears quiver as he picks up the soft murmur of voices—Ganyu and Collei, a Gryffindor, engaged in quiet conversation. It’s rare to see a non-Hufflepuff in their common room, but not unheard of; the warmth of the Hufflepuff abode has a way of drawing in kindred spirits.

“This is Collei, my friend,” Ganyu introduces.

“How did you get in?” Tighnari inquires, sniffing the air. No hint of sour scents, only the inviting aroma of waffles.

“Through me, of course,” Ganyu replies simply.

“Of course,” Kazuha nods, then turns to Venti. “Barbatos, would you care to explain? What happened back there?”

Venti fidgets with his fingers, looking troubled. “I accidentally read his thoughts.”

“Whose thoughts? Xiao’s?”

“Yes…” Venti whines. “And I feel awful… I promised I’d never—”

“Tch. And then? What did his thoughts reveal?” Kazuha continues to probe. At that moment, the entrance swings open, and Layla enters with her Slytherin girlfriend, Faruzan. The two stroll forward, holding hands, with Faruzan leading the way. Tighnari redirects his attention back to Venti, who is still moping.

“He… He…” Venti stammers.

“What is it, Venti?” Collei urges, leaning in with keen interest.

Venti covers his face with his hands. “I can’t say.”

“Why not?” Kazuha’s mouth forms an O of surprise.

“It’s—I mean, it’s Xiao, I don’t want anyone to—”

“Stop, Venti. You don’t need to tell us,” Tighnari interjects, unable to bear seeing his best friend struggling any longer. “Just keep it to yourself.”

Ganyu nods in agreement. “Yes, Venti, you don’t need to share.”

Venti peeks through the gaps between his fingers. “Really?”

“Yes.”

He sighs in relief. “Okay... Thank you for understanding,” he whispers. Despite his gratitude, the blush on his face is blatant. Tighnari chooses not to dwell on it—after all, Venti could likely hear his thoughts.

They exchange a look, and Venti’s face turns beet red.

**

The Library at Hogwarts is not merely vast—it is bewildering. Imagine a cathedral swallowed by a hedge maze, crossbred with a dragon’s hoard of books and secrets, and you've got the idea. Tighnari swears the place reconfigures itself by the hour, as if the staircases aren’t the only things in this school with a knack for perceptible entrances. Crimson carpets hush your footsteps while rows of bookshelves brood in uncommunicative conspiracy, some swiveling to reveal secret corridors that Filch, the cantankerous, cat-smelling, corridor-haunting fossil, uses to pop in and out of rooms with disturbing stealth, like a particularly bitter ghost.

Above, varnished wooden walkways snake between stained-glass windows depicting obscure assemblages and long-dead wizards. The whole library coils upward like a serpent, climbing the guts of the Astronomy Tower, ending at a domed observatory where students like Mona and Layla can sometimes be seen sprinting in panic, clutching charts and telescopes like they’ve just been told Mars is falling. Tighnari remembers accompanying Chongyun up there once under Professor Kaveh’s orders—something about dark cloud constellations and “how to interpret celestial omens without fainting like a Victorian heroine.”

Two floors. One for general research (or “the legally safe stuff,” as Ganyu calls it), the other for the brave, the reckless, or those who know how to fake Professor Alhaitham’s signature. The Restricted Section lurks behind a deceptively ordinary door, which is neither ordinary nor particularly friendly. Booby-trapped with pressure plates, vanishing stairwells, and enough cursed parchment to give a duppy indigestion, it’s the kind of place that eats first-years whole and belches out their shoelaces.

Tonight, Tighnari sits in his customary hidey-hole: a corner tucked between Arithmancy Theory and Unethical Transfigurations, with books stacked like miniature monuments around him, ears tingling at every floating tome that dares zoom past his head. He ducks one that hovers too close. Still alive, he thinks grimly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He unbuckles his satchel, places his wand gently beside him, and exhales. The bosom hush irons out. For once, it’s just him, his notes, and the deeply miserable saga of cursed bloodlines.

He searches. He scans. Flipping through yellowing pages on lycanthropy, metamorphmagi gone wrong, and cases of self-transfigured squibs with tragic endings, he scours the records for one sliver of hope. Something, anything about shapeshifters who retain memory post-transformation. Not for the first time, he wonders what cruel ancestor thought turning into a fox every full moon would be a useful inheritance. His family tree must’ve forked directly into madness.

He’s deep into a footnote about lunar-triggered amnesia when plonk—a chair squeals next to him. He startles. Side glance. One’s a redhead. Then white hair. Oh, for the love of Merlin. Cyno.

He considers pretending to be dead. Maybe slumping over dramatically, muttering, “Too late, the curse has taken me.” But alas, Cyno speaks.

“Tighnari?”

Cue the internal scream.

“S’pose I can’t ignore you now,” Tighnari drawls, eyes still locked on his book. “Oh. Hey, Cyno.”

“What—”

And before that sentence can do more damage, Tighnari yanks out his wand and levels it right between Cyno’s startled eyebrows. “If you even breathe a single word about my arse again, I will hex your voice box into a kazoo.”

Cyno blinks. Slowly. Then raises his hands like he’s about to be arrested for high treason. “I…was just going to ask what you were reading.”

“Oh.” Blink. Beat. Wand lowers.

Next to Cyno, Heizou stares like someone’s just told him unicorns are real and carnivorous. “You saw his arse? When? How? WHY?”

“Don’t ask,” Cyno hisses, cheeks now a delicate shade of mortified mauve.

Tighnari has had enough. He slams his book shut with a decisive wham and stands, ears twitching. “Cyno. Word. Now.”

The Ravenclaw blinks again. “Yes?”

“Outside.” A dab of his sprig and the books obediently zip into his satchel. “Capacious Extremis.” Shoulder. Sling. Scowl. And they’re off.

They march through the echoing hallways, silent save for their footsteps and Heizou’s baffled muttering fading behind them. They don’t stop until they’ve reached the Owlery, with its scent of papyrus, feathers, and judgment.

“Why all the way up here?” Cyno pants.

“Because I need to tell you something important, and I’d rather not have it overheard by, say, Peeves or half of Gryffindor.”

Cyno nods solemnly. “Alright.”

Tighnari hesitates, then says it. “The night you saw me in the woods…”

Cyno’s expression is innocent. Too innocent. “Butt-naked?”

“Yes, thank you, that bit is implied—”

“It was a nice—”

“Shut up.” His cheeks burn.

Cyno flashes a charming smile, looking at Tighnari as if he were a tasty morsel. This fellow… Alright, Tighnari reassesses his opinion of Cyno being a Ravenclaw. He definitely is one—clever and sharp. It seems Tighnari’s the one who’s been misled into thinking otherwise.

“Ah—whose owl is that?”

Tighnari glances up at one of the birdhouses and spots Carmen Dei fluttering its wings. “That’s Venti’s. But hold on. Let’s stay focused. What we’re discussing is crucial.”

“Alright, I’ll be serious.”

Tighnari sighs. “Right, so I’m going to let you in on a secret. Merlin knows I need a few people to be aware of this, in case I transform. Then someone could protect me from potential dangers.”

“Dangers around you?”

He nods. “Yes, I’m cursed.”

“Cursed?” Cyno reiterates, furrowing his brows as he tries to connect the dots, conceivably.

Tighnari decides to clarify. “Yes. I turn into a fox during a full moon…”

Cyno’s carmine eyes widen as the revelation sinks in. “Oh. So when I saw you that night, you—”

Tighnari affirms with a nod. “Yes, I had transformed back to my usual self.”

“I suppose that explains why you didn’t have any clothes on.”

“Exactly.”

“So you’re not aware of what happens when you're in your fox form?” Cyno pieces it together.

“No.”

There’s a pause. Then, softly: “You trust me enough to tell me that?”

“I do.” He shifts, glancing away. “That’s why I need someone to know. To keep others safe. To keep me safe.”

“Then I’m honoured.” Cyno steps forward, suddenly serious. Something about the moonlight makes him look older. Brighter. Wiser. “Who else knows?”

“Just you. And Venti.”

Cyno takes his hands. Just like that. Bold. Unblinking. “You can count on me.”

Tighnari’s heart commits a triple backflip. Traitorous muscle.

“…Thank you,” he whispers.

The walk back is quiet, except when they realise they’ve wandered near the Ravenclaw tower. “I’ll walk you back,” Cyno offers.

“No, I’ll walk you.”

“Please.”

“Please.”

“Alright.”

At the base of the tower, they meet the riddle-knocker. “Feed me and I live. Give me a drink and I die. What am I?”

“A fire,” they chorus, in eerie unison. A small, amused glance passes between them.

Cyno grins. “You should’ve been a Ravenclaw.”

“I’m smart enough to know better,” Tighnari retorts, ears flicking.

“Fair.” A pause. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Cyno. And thank you.”

“Anytime.”

And just like that, Tighnari turns and walks into the murks of the corridor, heart beating a bit too fast, head spinning just a touch too much, wondering what, exactly, he’s just gotten himself into—and why it doesn’t feel half as terrifying as it ought to.

**

Tighnari awakens to find Venti snoring with ostentatious delicacy, head flopped sideways like a broken puppet, mouth ajar, and a thin thread of drool arcing lithesome down his chin to soak into the pillowcase like ink on paper. The sight would be cataclysmic if it weren’t so appallingly adorable.

With a muzzy sigh and a whisk of his rod—“Levigare.”—he gently adjusts Venti’s head so it rests properly on the pillow. Venti responds with a sleepy giggle, snuggling deeper into the quilts, murmuring something about sugar quaffles and flying goats. Tighnari, now rather used to these odd slumber mutterings, tugs the blanket over his friend’s shoulders before turning to Kazuha, who is dangling halfway off his own bed like a swaying vine about to snap.

Another flick, a subtle swish, and Kazuha is nudged safely back from the brink of gravity’s betrayal. Tighnari steps back, inspects his work, and nods like a gardener satisfied with well-pruned hedges.

He dresses in scrupulous gag: robes, scarf, wand holstered, a sheathed thought. The sun outside the high dormitory window is a sleepy yolk in the mist, Hogwarts Castle blinking awake with groans and creaks, an old man rising from his chair.

Behind him, a rustle. Then a bleary voice, muffled by sleep and bed-sheet creases. “Will you come with me later? To Diagon Alley?”

Tighnari doesn’t look up from the incantation folding his socks into his satchel. “Hm? What for?”

“I’m going to buy a broom.”

That gives him pause.

“A broom, you say?” he asks slowly, arching a brow. “As in… a Quidditch broom?”

Venti, now sitting up with hair like seaweed after a shipwreck, nods proudly. “I’ve joined the team.”

There is a moment of heavy, stupefied silence. Tighnari gawks. “You’ve joined what?”

“The Quidditch team,” Venti warbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes like this isn’t an absolute declaration of war against common sense and personal safety.

“Do you… even know how to play?”

Venti shrugs. “I just wanted to.”

Tighnari blinks at him, then looks away, chewing the inside of his cheek. Quidditch. The sport of concussions and broken limbs. He can already hear Madam Pomfrey squawking.

After a pause long enough to border on dramatic, he sighs. “Are you certain about this?”

Venti’s face softens, his smile earnest. “I am.”

Tighnari studies him, really studies him—the stormy eyes, the determination coiled beneath his stock entropy. “Fine,” he mumbles. “If you’re set on it.”

“I know you’re worried, but it’ll be fun!” Venti beams, launching himself at him in a sudden, smothering hug. “Thank you!”

Despite the sting of dread, Tighnari can’t help but smile. Venti’s joy is infectious, like a charm you forgot someone cast. “Alright. So, Diagon Alley after school?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay.”

Later, in the Great Hall, upheaval reigns in its typical glory: the air is rich with the scent of Yorkshire pudding and toast, and students babble at full volume as if breakfast were a competitive sport. Tighnari sits between Kazuha and Venti, his plate a graveyard of sausages poked to death by a distracted fork.

Yoimiya and Lumine swoop in like twin hurricanes, giggling about broom polish and whether Ragnvindr has ever smiled (jury says no). Keqing, meanwhile, is pretending not to look at Ganyu three seats down with the pained expression of a youth trying to ignore the sun. The two have been locked in mutual yearning so long Tighnari suspects it qualifies as an elective.

He tunes them out. He’s perfected this skill. Fork, stab. Chew. Exist.

Then, Haypasia—always with timing as graceful as a flobberworm in ballet flats—appears, starry-eyed and murmuring about that “divine specimen” of a Slytherin Quidditch captain.

Tighnari snorts. “Haypasia, what precisely do you see in that over-lacquered boy?”

She pouts, then frowns in deep, unconvincing thought. “Well, aside from the face? Um… the aura?”

“That is not a feature,” he mutters, returning to his meal with resigned despair.

Then he sees Cyno. Across the room, Ravenclaw table. Laughing with Xiao, animated, bright. And with—oh no—sauce on his face. Again. Why is it always the sauce? Like clockwork, girls are giggling, whispering, swooning. As though a dab of marinara is a mating signal.

Tighnari sighs, cups his hands, and calls—loudly—across the hall, “Cyno! You’ve got sauce on your face!”

Cyno blinks. “Oh. Thanks!” He scrubs his cheek.

Immediately, a gaggle of girls beside Tighnari twist in their seats, collectively inhaling. “Tighnari, oh my gargoyles! Are you and Cyno close?”

He doesn’t flinch. “No.”

“Introduce us!”

“Please, please, introduce us!”

The desperation is physically painful. He slams his hand on the table with a sharp thwack. Silence falls like snow. “If you want to talk to him, talk to him yourselves. I am not a matchmaking postal owl.”

He stands, brushing crumbs off his robes. “Excuse me.”

Venti and Kazuha exchange apologetic glances. He nods and walks away, needing—desperately—to not be here anymore.

The loo is blissfully silent, enunciating slightly, tiles cold underfoot. He doesn’t need to go; he just wants a splash of water and a moment not filled with screeching girls or pastry-based embarrassment. But as he leans over the basin, a strange snugness loops through him—hot, tight, unaccustomed.

His skin prickles. Head swimming. Breath tapering and tottering.

He grips the basin, knuckles white. Not now. Not here. Not in the middle of breakfast, in the lavatory, next to a mop bucket named Trevor.

Rip.

He hears it. Feels it.

His trousers. Torn. Something moves behind him. He whirls, glancing down. Tail.

A dark green, swishing, traitorous tail. Fully out. In broad daylight.

“Oh, no,” he mutters, chest tightening. “Oh, no no no—”

He stumbles back into one of the stalls, clutching the door shut, brain racing. It’s not the full moon. It’s not even night. Why now? What triggered this? Stress? Sausages?

And then—footsteps. Someone approaching. He presses against the stall wall, panic setting in, tail thrashing like a cat in a thunderstorm.

Of all the times, in all of Hogwarts, why now?

And that’s when he hears the voice. Familiar voice.

“Mate? You alright in there?”

Of course it’s him. Tighnari resists the overwhelming urge to scream. Instead, he swears under his breath, “Brilliant. Just brilliant.”

**

Alas, Tighnari wakes to find himself splayed inelegantly across a very novel bed—no pyjamas, no trousers, not even socks to cushion the mortifying reality that he is, in fact, starkers beneath someone else’s duvet. He sits bolt upright, clutching the blanket like a life-raft as scads of memories trickle back with the unpleasant clarity of spilt blot. There’d been heat. A headache. A tail—Merlin, a tail. And now here he is, not in the hospital wing or the Hufflepuff common room, but in what looks suspiciously like an abandoned hunting lodge… or worse.

The room is a peculiar amalgam of functions: kitchen, sitting room, and bedchamber all rolled into one like a badly folded howler. A copper kettle is bubbling away merrily in the hearth, casting gleams on walls lined with hanging hams and dusty game birds. There’s a long wooden table bearing the scars of time and a history of haphazard mealtimes. Through a soot-smudged window, a pumpkin patch waves gently in the autumn breeze.

Ah. Of course. Hagrid’s old hut.

He doesn’t get long to marvel at the surroundings before a soft snore interrupts his thoughts. On the sofa, tangled in what appears to be a veritable army of knitted blankets, lies Cyno; legs half off the side, arms thrown notably over his face, hair tousled as if he'd gone ten rounds with a pillowcase and lost. Tighnari feels something complicated and warm stir in his chest. He clears his throat. “Cyno,” he calls gently.

Cyno shoots erect like he’s been hit with a Jelly-Legs Jinx. “Tighnari! You’re back! I mean—you’re you! A human again!”

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Tighnari grunts, checking under the blanket just in case. All limbs accounted for. No fur. That’s something. He swallows hard, still clutching the duvet. “How long was I out?”

“Hours. Nearly missed dinner. You—you were a fox again. Mid-morning. Right in the Great Hall.”

Tighnari groans. “I knew I felt something coming on…” Then, eyes widening, he remembers, “Oh no. I was meant to go with Venti—to Diagon Alley—he wanted a broom—”

“Relax,” Cyno cuts in, waving a hand. “Xiao went with him.”

He pauses. Xiao. And Venti. “Oh.”

“Indeed.” Cyno leaps off the couch with the zeal of a thriving wizard who has survived a weeklong essay crisis, joining Tighnari on the bed. They talk for a bit. The guy explains how he’d found Tighnari mid-transformation in the gents loo, and, after some chasing, clever concealment involving a levitating charm, a fallen tree branch, and a scarf, had snuck him here. “You scared me half to death, you know,” Cyno divulges. “I followed you into the forest. You ran like a maniac. But when I caught you, I had to carry you. Do you have any idea how hard it is to levitate a fox without drawing attention?”

“Judging by the fact you smuggled me into a condemned cabin, I’d say you managed well enough.” Tighnari sighs, adjusting the blanket to keep it from slipping off his shoulder.

“I suppose. And, um, I figured no one would think to look in Hagrid’s hut, so,” Cyno tip-toes, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… remote. Safe. I didn’t know where else to take you.”

“Not the worst hideout,” Tighnari admits. “But utterly devoid of trousers,” he adds, burying his face in his hands. “You didn’t see anything… alarming, did you?”

“Only emotionally,” Cyno replies brightly.

Tighnari groans.

“Well, I guess I owe you another thank-you.” He dithers, scoots a little, then wraps his arms around Cyno’s neck and hugs him without ado—an impulsive gesture that startles them both. “I’m really grateful. And I’m sorry.”

“S-sorry? For what?” Cyno squeaks, understandably overwhelmed.

“For all the trouble. You missed class,” Tighnari murmurs, holding on tighter. “And you had to babysit a fox.”

Cyno’s arms come up, tentatively at first, then more confidently, wrapping around Tighnari with a gentleness that throws him completely off guard. “I did what I had to.”

They stay like that a moment, long enough for Tighnari to feel his pulse slow and something inside him settle.

“So,” he starts softly, still not pulling away, “it really was you in the loo this morning?”

“Yeah. You were transforming. I figured you’d rather not do it in front of a crowd.”

Tighnari sighs. “It wasn’t a full moon. I don’t understand.”

“What did it feel like?” Cyno asks.

“Like fire under my skin,” Tighnari mutters. “Like I had swallowed the sun. Headache, heat, and then—I was gone.”

Before Cyno can answer, the moment is broken by the familiar thump of footsteps and a knock on the door; Xiao and Venti enter, bearing packages from Diagon Alley wrapped in brown paper. “You’re decent, right?” Venti calls cheerfully, peeking in before Tighnari can answer. “Ah. Guess not.”

“Clothes are over there,” Cyno offers helpfully.

Tighnari grabs the nearest pile and retreats behind a conjured curtain Venti whips up with his wand, mumbling the incantation with skillful flourish. As Tighnari dresses, the conversation resumes. Xiao is asking about the time.

“Two hours before curfew,” Cyno supplies. So they’ve truly been out of the castle for quite a while. That’s how long he was a fennec fox.

Fully enshrouded, heart stuck in his mouth, Tighnari steps out and smooths his hair, noting the jitters. His shaky fingers. “Let’s head back,” he barely manages.

He’s about to head for the exit, thinking about what his next course of action should be, when Cyno stops him with a hand on his arm. “Wait. What’s the plan? If this can happen without the full moon, you could turn again—anytime.”

“Indeed. It’s a significant issue. I’ll write home and inform my mother. She might know more. For now—” Tighnari looks at Cyno, feeling a stab of apprehension. “In the meantime, if you see a fox roaming Hogwarts, please—”

“I’ll handle it,” Cyno says immediately, firm as stone. “Xiao too.”

“I will,” Xiao nods.

“And I’m always here,” Venti intones, stepping forward. “I’m sorry I wasn’t earlier, I—”

“Wanted to stay, but Cyno told you to go,” Xiao interrupts, rather defensively, and, ah.

Tighnari chuckles. “It’s alright. I’m not a hazard on paws. It’s more like—well, like watching a dog.”

“More like a puppy,” Cyno mutters. “You kept licking at my—” He clamps his mouth shut. “I—I brought you mushrooms! You liked those best! I tried giving you fruit, but you spat them out.”

Tighnari stares. “I see…”

Venti nearly chokes trying not to laugh.

“Right,” Cyno coughs, clapping his hands. “Shall we head back before anyone thinks we’ve gone missing?”

“Yes, let’s,” Tighnari agrees. He feels Venti link an arm with his as they step out into the night air, the moonlight glinting on the pumpkin patches ahead. Cyno walks beside him, eyes watchful, ever loyal, and Xiao follows just behind, steady as always.

“Thanks again,” Tighnari says quietly. “All of you.”

“Anything for you, love,” Venti sings, swaying against him like a lullaby on legs.

“So,” Tighnari asks, glancing at the brooms. “What else did you get from Diagon Alley?”

**

By the time they finally clamber through the Hufflepuff common room’s circular door, they’re out of breath, slightly windswept, and thoroughly frazzled. The sultriness of the room greets them; a grandmother’s quilt: cosy yellow light, crackling fireside, badger carvings on the walls blinking sleepily, and a bleached odour of cinnamon scones lingering from supper.

Their shared dormitory, however, is dim and sequestered—save for the very faded, scholarly murmur of someone whispering, “Nox.” A quick flash of white disappears as Lumos Maxima retreats into the tip of Kazuha’s wand, extinguished like a polite sigh.

“You’re back,” he remarks quietly, perched cross-legged on his bed with parchment splayed across his lap and a pair of reading glasses balanced precariously on his nose supposing he’s playing at being a professor. “Where did you lot go?”

Tighnari lets out a breath that’s less exhale and more existential crumble. “It’s a long story.”

Kazuha tilts his head, glasses slipping down a tad. “Lucky for you, I’m all ears.”

That earns a huff of laughter from Venti, who jerks his squiggly dowel and sends their mess spiralling back to their rightful places: socks zip into drawers, scarves somersault onto hooks, and a jumper with mustard stains shamefully tucks itself under a pillow. Tighnari watches as his own satchel plops beside his bed, looking about as exhausted as he feels.

Venti gives him a subtle glance. Go on.

Tighnari nods, resigning himself to the inevitable. He sits down austerely, the duvet rustling beneath him like sheepskin under quill, and begins.

And oh, he tells everything. Not the edited-for-your-sanity version, but the whole awful chronicle: his fox-form heritage, the transformation that struck mid-bite at breakfast, the panic in the lavatory, the trousers incident (which he glosses over with diplomatic finesse), Cyno’s forest-side heroics, Hagrid’s abandoned hut, mushrooms, blankets, and a very nosy broom-shopping trip he missed entirely. He names Cyno and Xiao with the kind of reverent gratitude reserved for war comrades or particularly dependable library partners. By the end of it, he’s slouched back, arms folded, tail (now invisible, thank goodness) metaphorically between his legs.

Kazuha, as expected, doesn’t caterwaul or faint or clutch his pearls. He simply exhales, thoughtful. “Oh, wow,” he says, as if someone just delineated the weather.

“‘Oh, wow’ is all I get?” Tighnari muses, partially gleeful.

“I’m digesting,” Kazuha ripostes, the corners of his mouth twitching. “You’ve just presented me with a particularly chewy piece of truth. Fox-heritage transformations are rare—older than werewolf lore, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re not,” Tighnari says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But mine doesn’t follow any rules. I thought it was the full moon, but clearly breakfast sausages now qualify as a magical trigger.”

Kazuha props his chin on his palm, gaze unfocused. “You know, I’ve read about foxes. Kitsune in Eastern magical texts. I believe Professor Yae Miko may be one herself.”

“Oh—right.” Tighnari frowns, suddenly intrigued. “But does she lose control? Is her condition like mine, or does she just swan about in high heels with her tail perfectly curled and not a single misplaced whisker?”

“Well,” Kazuha murmurs, “there’s only one way to find out.”

“Tomorrow,” Venti yawns dramatically, flopping backwards onto his bed in a cloud of robes and melodrama. “For now, I’m positively done in. Diagon Alley was lovely but my legs feel like I’ve walked the entire length of the Nile.”

Tighnari turns to him, gentling. “Oh—we haven’t even talked about that. I’m sorry I couldn’t go with you.”

Venti rises, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves, and pads over to Tighnari without a word. Then, in that disarming way of his, he leans in and wraps his arms around him—loose, warm, free and easy, and unreasonably comforting. “Don’t apologise. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay with you. But we’ll make sure to do better next time.”

Tighnari leans into the hug, cheek against Venti’s shoulder, sighing as the last of the day’s nerves melt away like snowflakes on skin. He means it. They both do—Venti and Cyno. Maybe even Xiao, in that mysteriously intense way of his.

They aren’t just housemates. They’re becoming something stronger. Something unuttered but fiercely rooted.

“Next time,” he says softly. “We’ll all go. And I’ll stay human the whole time, ideally.”

“Let’s not get our hopes too high,” Kazuha drawls from his bed, already pulling the blankets over his legs. “Though if you do sprout a tail in the apothecary, I’d like front-row seats.”

Tighnari groans into his pillow. “You lot are the worst.”

“Sleep tight, fox-boy,” Venti chuckles.

“Don’t lick anyone in your dreams,” Kazuha adds. “Unless you’re in dire need of it, I’m a bed away.”

Tighnari throws a pillow, and Kazuha catches it with frightening ease, already laughing.

And despite the burden of mystery still pressing down on him, on the when, the why, the what next, Tighnari closes his eyes with a smile haling at the corners of his mouth. Because for now, in this little golden dorm, he is known. Fox and all.

**

The next morning begins with plumes, excerpts, and a mild empiric hysteria.

Tighnari, perched at the east tower’s drafty owl post with a half-buttoned robe and an extensively full head of worry, fastens a scroll case to Vulpes Zerda’s leg—his owl, dignified and disgruntled, who blinks at him with an expression that reads, quite clearly: You’d better not be asking me to fly halfway across the country on an empty stomach again, you leaf-chewing menace.

“I know, I know,” Tighnari rumbles, giving the feathery leg one last secure tug before releasing her into the pale morning sky, where she vanishes into the mist with a sharp beat of wings and a look back that says next time, snacks. He watches until she disappears, heart thudding with the average cocktail of hope and dread that comes from writing your mother to say Hello, slight magical crisis, might be randomly turning into a fox now, thoughts?

He trudges down the tower steps, mind still churning. The transformation—unplanned, unmooned, unforgivably inconvenient—bothers him severely, the way a conundrum with missing clues might bother Hermione Granger in the afterlife. He retraces the morning before like a potion recipe gone sideways: breakfast, Haypasia gossiping about that troublesome Slytherin again, Cyno stuffing his face with such reckless gusto that Tighnari had felt morally obligated to inform him of the sauce smear, then—the headache, the heat, the awful, snapping shift of bones and fur and tail and trousers. Again.

But what dilly-dallies is stranger: the memory of being carried. As a fox. Awareness intact. Vaguely mortified. Is that even possible? Shapeshifters, he knows, often lose their minds to the beast—but he hadn’t, not wholly. He remembers the smell of Cyno’s robes. The steady heartbeat. The hands. It’s troubling.

So troubling, in fact, that he doesn’t even question why Venti is in the kitchens when he wanders in next.

The air smells like sugar and nutmeg and the kind of magic that makes you believe in birthdays again. House-elves scurry like wind-up toys, and in the middle of it all, there’s Venti at the counter with his sleeves rolled and a saucepan of melted chocolate swirling like a potion of love and indigestion.

Tighnari blinks. “Chocolates? It’s not Valentine’s.”

“No,” Venti says cheerfully, tossing in chopped almonds. “They’re for him. It’s that time of the month.”

Tighnari, used to Venti’s quandaries and deliberate vagueness, arches a brow. “You’ve been doing this since—?”

“Our fifth year,” Venti confirms, darting his wand to keep the chocolate from scorching. “It’s a tradition now.”

Tighnari sidles up beside him, casting a spell to nudge a few apricots into Venti’s mixing bowl. “And how long do you plan to keep it up?”

“Until I’ve repaid him,” Venti murmurs. “For pulling me out of the lake.”

Ah. That day. The one they don’t talk about. Second year. Black Lake. Cold water. One small boy who couldn’t swim, and one who did.

“You’re too kind,” Tighnari says, watching the way Venti’s gaze drags near the pantry where Xiao’s shadow had just passed. “Just—don’t get yourself heartbroken, alright?”

Venti clears his throat with a wittingly loud ahem. “He’s just a friend, Tighnari.”

“If you say so,” he hums, not looking up.

Venti changes the subject in the way only Venti can—by veering straight into someone else’s business. “And what are you up to?”

“I’m sending chocolates to Cyno,” Tighnari informs, almost defensively, almost too whimsically. “He’s been helpful. He deserves thanks.”

“Of course,” Venti says, far too innocently. “You can take this tray. I’ve made plenty. Don’t want him growing fangs.”

“I thought he already had those,” Tighnari mutters, accepting the truffles.

“Box?” Venti asks, eyeing him with mischief.

Tighnari shakes his head. “No. If I use one of yours, he’ll know. The design’s too distinct.”

“True,” Venti sighs. “My craftsmanship is criminally recognisable.”

So Tighnari does it his way. He plucks a blossom from one of his potted vines (magically enhanced, naturally), then charms the petals to curl inward like fingers until the flower becomes a velvet-soft box. The scent is woodsy, slightly citrusy, bodily non-suspicious. Inside go the truffles, along with a hand-scrawled note: Thank you for everything. Truly.

And because subtlety is a rare herb in Hogwarts, he decides to drop it off at lunch.

Then comes Potions class, which, in a word, is abrasive.

Professor Yelan has replaced their scheduled Erumpent Explosive assignment with something much less thrilling and infinitely more fragrant: Dragon Dung Fertiliser, which makes your cauldrons stink like scorched manure and your self-respect slowly evaporate. The switch was due to mysterious thefts from the potion stores; someone’s been nicking vials and, more worryingly, not returning them. No one wants a first-year inadvertently detonating the greenhouse.

By the time lunch rolls around, Tighnari’s hands still smell moderately of fireweed and fertiliser, but his resolve is intact.

Venti’s already at the Ravenclaw table, half-trapped by a swarm of girls pestering him about unrequited crushes and dreamy upper-years. Tighnari ignores them all and homes in on his mark: Cyno, eating like he hasn’t seen food in days. The boy looks up, in the middle of a greedy bite, and smiles. It’s a strange smile—genuine, unguarded, uncharacteristically lovely.

Tighnari can’t help it. He walks over and places the box gingerly in front of him. “Thank you. For yesterday.”

And just like that, he pivots on his heel and walks away, pretending he can’t hear the squeals, the whispers, the rising tumult.

Venti is smirking when he gets back. “Adorable.”

Tighnari groans. “Sod it, Venti. What are they saying?”

“They’re teasing him,” Venti divulges gleefully. “I think someone called it a love offering. Also, Xiao’s looking.”

Tighnari glances up just in time—just as the owls swoop into the hall in a flurry of wings and feathers and morning crumbs. Carmen Dei is among them, regal and gliding, a parcel clutched in her talons—and then, with a gentle flutter of wings—

She drops it.

Onto the table.

Tighnari’s eyes widen.

Realisation crashes down.

“Oh… Merlin’s saggy drawers,” he whispers.

Because the note. The sweets. The box.

He told Cyno… the owl was Venti’s.

Bugger.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Christmas was supposed to be a time for family, that’s what Steve has always been taught anyways, but, seeing as his parents don’t really understand what it’s like having gone through what he and his friends have, they aren’t much of a family these days.

Steve was never of the Christly faith, he was Jewish actually, but the family chose to celebrate Christmas for its messages and the staples of the season. Things like the wood burning stove crackling with warmth and watching snow coat the evergreens in the backyard. Baking and relaxing and peace on earth and such.

The festivities of both of his holidays weren’t quite dampened as much as his faith was the moment a six foot faceless monster dropped out of the ceiling with intent to kill him. Though last Christmas went pretty shit anyways, for the first time in years spending that time of year with someone he genuinely cared about, only to realize in retrospect it hadn’t been a mutual love and cheeriness.

Steve isn’t sure about getting into the festive spirit this year, whatever that even means to him anymore.

He doesn’t decorate as much as he used to; something about having all those lights in his house, the way they used to wrap around the banister and frame the huge wreath above the mantelpiece, it just makes him paranoid now. No sense of wonder filled nostalgia and warmth in his chest, instead just waiting for the moment they start to flash and signal something coming after him. A festive beacon signaling his location across dimensions, that’s a big ‘no’ from him.

He realizes about four days before Christmas that his apathy had bled into the rest of his traditions too, altogether forgetting to bake the cookies he’d inevitably eat all by himself anyways, or to write cards to family members who probably only trashed the envelope without opening it. Steve can’t stop himself from this depressing spiral either, every last idea of mirrored baubles and other delights shot down in a heartbeat with a negative one twice as strong.

Hell, he even forgot to fish out an old bayberry candle from the attic, which is enough on its own to make him worry a little. His Ima always told him if there was one tradition he could never give up, it was the candle, and every year he’d light that thing and watch it like a hawk to make sure it burned down to the base starting on Christmas Eve morning. It’s bad luck to not. The whole family will be cursed by every god imaginable.

There’s a little flier in his mailbox for Christmas Eve service. Even if his faith has been tested, he can say for certain he’ll never be Christian. His faith and his identity are linked in some ways too tested and true to just move on.

Still. He considers going. Christmas Eve service won’t be enough to undo the damning of his soul for forgetting the candle, and it won’t change his mind on the religion thing either.

It’ll get him out of the house, though. Maybe allow him to see some old faces. Connect with real humans again. There’ll be coffee and cookies anyways, and one of his favorite parts of Christmas has always been the baked goods.

Blame it on all that’s happened in the last year, but Steve decides to go, if not just because he’d failed at achieving literally everything else he had on his to-do list for the season. He’d at least rather feel like he was being judged by old church bitties than feel the crushing weight of having nothing at home for himself.

He’s already late when he does show up at the church, as in -the old people have stopped bullshitting and the service had actually started- late. Actually, he’d been there for a half hour before then at least, but sat outside in his car until he mustered the courage to go inside and face what he’s quickly realizing was a bad decision.

Steve is forced to sit at the very back of the church since, even if he won’t be listening, he doesn’t want to interrupt everybody else. Not a bad deal for someone who guilt-tripped his own sorry self into coming in the first place, but the problem he has with the situation is the company.

He thought this would be helping. It isn’t.

See, most of the church is full of families, people grouped together in their little circles and rubbing it in just how lonely Steve is this year.

In the last few rows there are a couple of other loners like him, but even those are mostly full of people who look generally friendly with each other at least. Steve doesn’t have the luxury.

Billy Hargrove’s taking up almost a whole pew for himself, slouched down with his legs all spread, like he doesn’t want to be seen. Knowing Hargrove the way Steve thinks he does, he assumes that’s exactly the case. That the asshole got dragged along by his nice family to church, to celebrate the community he made it a point to terrorize since day one of being in Hawkins.

Steve’s God isn’t quite the same as the one from this church, but whoever is up there, if anybody, he curses them for creating such a dick as Billy and sending him down to bother Steve.

Maybe he’s projecting a little, but all the same, the only seat left where he’s not going to be interrupting something is right next to Hargrove.

If he had any pride left he’d turn and walk out the door, but he’s only here because he’s already at rock bottom. Might as well spend the holiday with someone who’s probably going to kick his ass again for being a bother.

But Hargrove doesn’t even look at him when he sits next to him, his head is tipped back against the seat and there are sunglasses perched on his nose, despite it being dark out already and one a dreary winter day when there was no sun to begin with. The only indication that he even noticed Steve’s presence is that he moved his leg away so he and Steve aren’t making contact.

Steve’s not going to act like he suddenly likes the guy, but he can tell something is up with him. He asks, pretty bluntly, “What’s a guy like you doing passed out drunk in a church, Hargrove?”

Billy’s face shifts slowly into a half-assed smirk, looking mostly like he’s in pain from forcing the expression, “Why, you want in on it?”

“Honestly, it wouldn’t suck as much if I had a drink first.” Steve shrugs, trying against every instinct in his body to be civil with Billy. It’s not like the other boy is much of a threat the way he’s slumped down and broken looking anyways. Steve feels almost bad for passing judgements.

Until Billy calls him on his hypocrisy, hardly even looking in his direction, “You came in here alone. You wanna be here, Harrington. Don’t act like you’re like me.”

Arguing back with those assumptions, Steve insists, mostly because of the nerve of Billy to assume his situation insults him, “Well I don’t see your family around.”

“‘Cause they're too embarrassed to be seen with me after I beat your sorry ass. Ruined a reputation that didn’t even exist yet. They're up at the front, putting on their happy family routine to make up for it.” Billy relays.

The tone of his explanation would imply that it’s nothing to him, just a mild inconvenience no larger than their own dispute, but his demeanor reads otherwise. And suddenly makes a lot more sense to Steve.

Steve’s definitely chastened, reluctant as his heart tells him to be in trusting Billy, “Oh. Couldn’t you have just.. stayed home then?”

“No way. And get up to more trouble while the rest of my family has to pull the weight of our publicity. Yeah right.” Finally Billy sits up a little straighter, if only to mumble, mostly to himself more than for Steve to hear, “That’d only get my ass beat worse, even if I didn’t do shit.”

And really, as much as Steve is never prepared for what spiteful bullshit is about to come tumbling out of Hargrove’s mouth, this is especially surprising. Like, the kind of unexpected that leaves him speechless and just staring for a moment.

He settles on blurting out, “You.. didn’t have to tell me all that.”

Maybe bitter, or maybe perfectly unbothered in that annoyingly trademark Billy Hargrove way, he meets Steve’s disaster of an attempt at coherency with a simple, “You didn’t have to accuse me of being a drunk either. But the more you run your mouth, the more I feel perfectly justified in giving you that concussion.”

“Never heard of a joke, have you?” Steve tries again, thinking he can be on a bully’s level now, but clearly that wasn’t the vibe Billy was actually going for.

Billy scoffs, glaring with suspiciously wet eyes under those tinted glasses at Steve, “Right. ‘Cause it’s so hilarious, getting to see the new King of the bullshit high school hierarchy at an all time low. You’ve got lots to laugh at Harrington.”

“But I’m not. You think I don’t got my own shit to deal with? Like I just wander into a church I don’t even worship at, an hour late and without my best on, just for fun?”

Knocking himself down a few pegs succeeds in getting Billy to warm back up to him, inviting a new interest in his expression, “So what’s your sin then, Harrington? What’s got you crawling out here and stooping to the peasant level?”

For more reasons than just their location, Steve answers honestly, if not somewhat dramatic, “Incurable loneliness. Being an idiot. Never being good enough. Forgetting to light my goddamned bayberry candle.”

“That bad, huh?” Billy fake winces, the edge bleeding back out of his demeanor. It reminds Steve of the Billy he’d first met that night. Before he’d lied and things went to hell.

Speaking of, Billy abruptly comes out with what they’ve both been thinking, “Look. Do you even believe in all this.. this savior bullshit?”

Steve shrugs, swallowing the fear of denouncing tradition in favor of impressing Hargrove, “Nope. And if we’re being really honest, I only came here because there’d be food.”

“Exactly. Our problems ain’t gonna be fixed by the big man in the red suit or whatever. You and me Harrington, we gotta take this shit into our own hands.” Billy rambles, and for a second it looks like he’s about to put his hands on Steve’s shoulders, before he changes position at the last minute and rests his arm over the back of the pew instead.

Why does Steve kind of wish he had touched him? He brushes it off. They’re playing mind games right now, talking about shit without talking about it. He’s gotta focus or he’ll fall behind.

“And just how are we going to do that?” Steve hums, some part of him wondering at this point if he is just amusing a drunken Billy.

But the other boy surprises him once more, challenging how convinced Steve is in his perceptions of him, “Step one, let’s just get outta here.”

Steve’s mouth feels dry and his stomach feels in knots.

“Uh, Hargrove. Didn’t you like, just say you had to be here though?”

“That was ten minutes ago. I’m a new man now, unrestrained by the confines of a paternal dictatorship keeping me bound to this holy house of worship.”

That doesn’t make it any more obvious to Steve what his intention is, if anything just making him more confused. Feeling like a jackass about it, he asks for clarification, a problem that has every bit to do with himself and his expectations, and not so much with Hargrove’s, “What?”

“I said fucking stick it to Neil Hargrove and to God. And let’s go already before we get struck down or something.” Billy stands then, the preacher thankfully deep enough into whatever speech was going on that only a few churchgoers turned to glare at the interruption.

Steve realizes he doesn’t have much choice, or desire, to do anything but follow Billy.

They almost wordlessly end up at Steve’s car, Billy himself having been driven with the rest of his family and having no other way to get home.

It’s still tense between them, this spur of the moment Christmas truce not doing much to ease Steve’s worries. Things feel even more awkward than they need to be, at least to Steve.

Billy, on the other hand, makes himself right comfortable in Steve’s car, like they’d been best friends all along and this was a perfectly normal thing for the two of them to be doing.

Somehow it simultaneously made Steve really want to get closer to him,so he could understand the way his head works to make him so sporadic in a way Steve himself had never been good at being.

Part way through the drive, Billy had cranked the heat in the car all the way up, a sign he’s not taking his first white Christmas that well. His salt-stained boots are kicked up on his dashboard, and the sunglasses he wore for no apparent reason were finally removed to be looped onto the collar of his jacket.

He wasn’t lying about the beating. Behind the shades wasn’t a drunken, out of focus gaze. No.

A bruise the size of almost the entirety of his left cheekbone stretches and warps into his swollen brow, where a cut near his eyelid forces it half-shut.

“You’re not nervous are you?” Steve needs the reassurance.

They could both get in trouble from the man they both know landed that bruise on Billy’s cheek. Getting caught wasn’t a question, they would know he wasn’t at the church anymore, it was just a matter of what excuse Billy could come up with that wouldn’t get him in more trouble.

“Me? Never.” Billy just shrugs him off, though again adds something under his breath, sort of like a filter for the truths he finds painful to speak, “Just hurry up and take me as far away from here as possible. I hate this stupid hell hole and I don’t want Neil’s ass dragging me back in there.”

And it’s not like Steve is going to disagree, he’s admittedly had his problems with being lonely, and he’s got his own reasons for why Hargrove might just be the best company he could make right about now.

Still, because it’s their thing, he gives him a hard time all the same.

“We were enemies when I walked into that church. Why should I do anything for you?”

“‘Cause we’re both two out of place fuck ups in the very back of the house of God. And we both know you’re too soft to hold a grudge anyways. Since I decided to forgive you, the way I see it, we might as well have never met ‘til tonight. Perfect meeting, perfect reason to help out.” Billy explains it, again like he’s fixing himself to be a real genius, but Steve’s skeptical of how easygoing he is.

Those shaking hands don’t go unnoticed from him. Or the scratchy, high pitched lilt that trails after each word Billy speaks.

Steve is more than willing to move past the fight at this point, but there’s something that may or may not even have anything to even do with Hargrove himself, that stops him from just letting them be close like that. Something that Steve has kept a secret his whole life.

Something like a boy crush.

It’s not even Billy’s fault that he pushes back against this friendship, preventative measures for the future. Steve talks dismissively. “Nah, I don’t know man. I think you’d prefer it if my first impression of you wasn’t formed right now.”

Billy doesn’t even look at him, “Fucking rude, Harrington.”

“Dude, you reek like booze and old cologne. You’ve got that nasty bruise on your face and I can tell from the way you’re acting there’s more. You’re a disaster all around.” And maybe Steve was a little harsh, but he's almost offended by the way everything Billy stands for directly goes against the image of him he’d built in his head.

The kid he’s talking to now is nowhere near the same douche that he thought for sure was going to kill him. Not to say he’s a sweetheart, but Steve doesn’t even know why he thought Billy was such hot shit.

Probably something about fantasy. Attraction versus adrenaline and all that.

Billy himself isn’t in the least bit offended though, and Steve can tell that’s only because he’s reading him and his attempt at playing Billy’s game like a book.

There’s a smirk that just barely plays at the corner of his mouth, at least the side without any injuries, the dead giveaway of his clarity, “Well then. What was your first first impression of me like? What makes it so special?”

“I don’t know man. You looked intimidating I guess. Glared at everyone in that parking lot like you already owned the place. And you were a thousand times more put together. Before you were just pretending to be all rough, a hoser by definition, but now you’re really a mess.” Steve is rambling again, trying his damndest to not say the part out loud where him and Carol Perkins had been gossiping about how Hargrove’s ass looked in those jeans.

His genuine first impression a hell of a lot more confusing and even worse to admire to a bully than the way he sums it up.

“Damn. And here my first impression of you was that you were a prissy little thing just like Wheeler sitting right next to you in your fancy rich boy car. Here I thought you saw yourself as better than me.” The tone of Billy’s voice sounds almost impressed, actually looking over to Steve in the driver's seat.

His face is so analytical, so smugly uncalled for. Like pure satisfaction, because he cracked the goddamn code, “But no, I get it now. Pretty boy had himself a crush. Still does too.”

Steve almost slams on his brakes.

“Hold on. I never said anything like that.” He denies it outright, because it is true. There’s a swell of panic in his chest at the thought that he’s too obvious. Over who else might know.

Billy clarifies a little more, “But you don’t need your damn words to see it. This overly critical, hiding your feelings shtick. Probably learned that from your girl. Tearing me apart like your first thought wasn’t how fucking hot I am in three layers of acid wash.”

“Christ, where the hell did you even get an idea like that?” Steve acts bigger than he feels, at least he’s good at that, always has been.

“Lighten up. You think any old meathead’s gonna notice something like this that easy?” Billy waits for an answer but Steve can’t speak. The other rolls his eyes and continues, “I see through that shit ‘cause I’ve done it all too. Open your fucking eyes.”

Call him neurotic, but Steve is still skeptical, “No way. You’re talking about shit that doesn’t happen, Hargrove. It just doesnt! Whatever *this* is, it doesn’t have anything to do with me, alright?”

“You didn’t even ask my impression of you. I could tell you, about.. about the way I fell for every little freckle and dumb eyelash on your dopey face? I could fucking tell you but we’d probably still be here well into the new year if I did.”

Steve grips the wheel tighter, “No, Billy.. I mean it. If you’re pulling something on me... just save it for someone who wants to hear it.”

“I’m not though. Honest to God.” Billy tilts his head back against his seat and laughs at himself, the seriousness of the situation escaping him. He’s also fucking nervous, which Steve can see.

It makes him regard the next thing Billy says with at least a little more trust. All he wants is to have somebody like that. Billy smiles when he sees those walls coming down,

“Well, I guess two queers running away from Church on Christmas Eve probably shouldn’t swear on the big man like that, but you get what I’m sayin’, Harrington.”

Whether this was a bullying or a love confession, Steve wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, and it’s fucking confusing. He crinkles up with nose and eyebrows in an obvious puzzling expression, “I.. guess I do?”

“Aw, don’t go getting’ shy on me now, Harrington.” Billy snickers, finally shifting that piercing gaze away from Steve to the window beside him, asking in an unceremonious change of subject, “Where’re you taking me anyways?”

“Since you’re laying it on so damn thick all of the sudden, I figured I’d just take you back to my place.” Steve all but grumbles sarcastically, stressed from this conversation, from it being Christmas, from everything else going wrong in his life.

Billy at least can sense that, allowing the subject change to carry them in an almost casual conversation. Almost, if not for the overly flirtatious tone he takes on, “Sure. You got a present waitin’ there for me this Christmas?”

Steve’s face flushes and he can’t handle the heat. He shuts it down with a shrug of his shoulders, “Dude, I don’t even have a tree up at home. Best I can promise is what you were probably already hopin’ you’d get.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Wrapping paper that important to you? I can figure something out.”

Billy shakes his head; it’s his turn now to look at Steve like he’s lost his mind, “No. I was just fucking with you about a present. I meant about the tree.”

“Yeah, I didn’t decorate at all. But.. what’s that even matter?” Steve glances over at him, seeing the hurt behind that baffled expression and knowing instantly there’s something more there, another mystery about Billy Hargrove that will remain unsolved, because he turns the attention off of himself as quickly as that expression fades behind a new one of determination.

“Not gonna lie Harrington, I was totally down to blow you and just pretend the serious parts of this conversation never happened and never speak to each other again. I kinda thought that was the path we were going down here. But now that I know how deep this goes, and I’m invested in this shit way too much.”

“What does that even mean, Billy?”

“Means we’re skipping all the sex bullshit and we’re gonna light your goddamn candle. And do every other thing on your list of failures this year. You know, since you’re totally head over heels in love with me, it’s my job to give you your Merry Christmas.” Billy explains it like he’s got it all planned out perfectly. Like he’s some kind of genius.

Steve rolls his eyes, mostly because it hides how easily flustered he is by Billy’s proclamations, “Oh come on. It’s not like that..”

“What? You’re having a hard time this year, for obvious fucking reason- did I mention I already hate your parents?”

“Billy.” Steve warns, not ready to sidetrack another topic to talk about something that will only make him depressed. It’s not as easy for him to hate his parents as it is for him to hate Billy’s.

Billy nods in unspoken understanding and goes back to his point, “All I’m saying is, the point of havin’ someone like me around, is to make shit better. Right?”

“I don’t know man, since I seem to remember the last time I tried to help you first, you told me you weren’t a charity case and to never bother you again..”

Steve never forgot that attempt, even after everything that went down between them. It was just one time, in the showers after their way too high contact game of basketball. The angry red belt scars on Billy’s back caught his attention and he’d brought it up, only to be shut down.

There was always a sick, guilty feeling in his stomach about never trying again after that.

“If you’d just quit bein’ so stubborn, we got lots of shit to get done tonight. No time for self-deprivation.” Billy remarks casually though, unbothered by Steve’s worries. He even adds with an over exaggerated wink, “Maybe I’ll throw in that present I promised you once you start cheering up.”

~~~

The Harrington house does end up shining brightly that night.

Just as Billy promised, they stayed up all night doing everything they wanted to, no imposed rules or familial traditions involved, no triggers of past Christmases that neither were quite ready to share yet on display.

They don’t bother fishing out the huge eight foot synthetic tree Mrs. Harrington insisted on having to show off, the monstrous thing just there to collect dust in the basement now. They find a smaller one instead, an old fiber-optic tree Steve used to keep up in his room as a kid, his way of sneaking a nightlight past Mr. Harrington’s strict rules for his boy.

The tree is proudly displayed on a side table pushed over to the front window, and decorated with only homemade ornaments. Billy “accidentally” dropped a few of the fancy collector ornaments that used to force Steve’s own childhood creations off.

His mother was obsessed with making everything look straight out of a catalog, but the simple and childish decor was enough for Billy and Steve, without the additional twenty strings of lights in every corner of the house, or the poinsettias and crystal nativities adorning every available surface in the house. That was all a headache.

They light the bayberry candle too, putting it on a fancy dish at the center of the coffee table, not in the fancy sconces he’d have to scrape wax out of later. Billy pretends about a thousand times he’s going to blow it out just to fuck with Steve, earning him equally as many lectures on the bad luck and death and pestilence he’s bringing upon them.

Really that’s the dynamic they have the whole night; Steve flutters around his house an absolute nervous wreck, Billy just tailing after him to remind him that whatever they want to do.

It’s actually fun this once, behaving in a way not for appearances or hollow celebrations. Billy understands making Christmas special, personal. He’s someone who gets maybe one present per year and can’t afford any decorations but generations old glassware and yard sale blow molds.

Steve admittedly wasn’t really expecting to solve so many of his troubles in one go, especially not with help from Billy, who he thought was supposed to hate him after everything. But Billy just makes it so easy to like him, once Steve got the handle on understanding him.

He even got to see that gentle side of him open up. When Steve tangled himself up in tinsel and started to panic, and Billy had to remind him everything would be fine, he got to see it up close. The delicate concern in Billy’s eyes. The softness in his voice.

Okay, and maybe they shared one or two kisses under conveniently placed mistletoes Billy claims to not know the origin of.

He wasn’t all sunshine though, instead of just telling Steve that a Christmas angel or the hard to display window wreaths didn’t need a place in their festivities, he’d taken to literally smacking whatever was troubling Steve out of his hands and making him go do something else while it was put away.

In the end they still don’t do a lot of the things Steve normally would, most things really, but he realizes at some point, after baking a batch of cookies at about three in the morning, both of them wearing his Ima’s glittery aprons, that this isn’t about all that anyways.

What he and Billy started, this Christmas Eve, was a new tradition, one which didn’t rely on expectations, or keeping up with everything everyone ever asked him to do.

All of this was about doing something new, something they hadn’t up to this point been able to call their own for countless unhappy reasons they pledged not to talk about until at least the day after Christmas. Neither saw any need to dampen the cheer they did find this special holiday, all on their own.

Once everything’s sort of wound down, Steve’s head is all fuzzy with a buzz from the cheap alcohol Billy had convinced him to put into the generic gallon of eggnog he had about to expire in his fridge. Billy has a blushing face and a finally relaxed posture.

The both of them are sitting under their tiny tree for reasons neither can remember. Somewhere down the line, they started holding hands.

Steve asks, mostly as a lighthearted comment he doesn’t really expect an answer to, “So, I guess you’re gonna come over for Christmas every year now, huh?”

Billy looks to him and scrunches his nose up, emphasized by the way his face is pink, his smile turns bright and lopsided, the way it looks when he really means it, “Are you kidding me, Stevie? I’m coming over here every goddamn day if I can.”

[talonabraxas]

Buddha Star Portal Talon Abraxas

The Third Eye, an inner eye is a mystical and esoteric concept referring in part to the ajna chakra in certain Eastern and Western spiritual traditions. It is also spoken of as the gate that leads within to inner realms and spaces of higher consciousness.

The Third Eye in reality is the Pineal Gland. It is the spiritual Third Eye, our Inner vision and it is considered the seat of the soul. It is located in the geometric center of the cranium.

The Third Eye is a natural part of every person but it is a meta organ. It consists of all the senses and mind working together as a larger more powerful sensory organ.

As a sense, it can be used in many different ways. It opens up our senses to patterns around us. It’s used by seers to make connections and answer questions. It’s used by energy workers to feel the energy and then manipulate that energy.

It’s part of empathy where a person can touch and feel the emotions of others. Many other applications exist for how people have used it. It is possible to use the Third Eye to learn how to sense and visually interpret energy around us.

This helps people work with the process of Motion, Activity and Interchange more easily and completely. Energy instead of being abstract concept then becomes a tangible property of life to work with once people learn how to sense it and interact with it.

Some facts about the Third Eye:

Location: At the base of the skull, at the medulla oblongata. Its location at the front of the head is between the eyebrows.

Color: Indigo. A combination of blue and red.

Tone: OM (O represents the Sun or the Third Eye) (M represents the Moon or medulla.)

Element: Electrical or telepathic energy.

Sense: Thought.

Deficient energy: Non assertive, undisciplined, oversensitive to the feelings of others, afraid of success, schizophrenic (unable to distinguish between Ego self and Higher self).

Excessive energy: Egomaniac, proud, manipulative, religiously dogmatic, authoritarian.

Balanced energy: Charismatic, can receive guidance, not attached to material things, no fear of death, master of yourself, sexual energy-you no longer need another person to complete yourself.

Gems/Minerals: Lapis lazuli azurite, sodality, quartz crystal, sapphire.

Glands and organs influenced by the sixth chakra: Pineal, pituitary, brain, eyes, ears, nose.

Illness: Confusion, mental illness, bad eyesight, lack of clarity, psychic exhaustion.

The Third Eye is non-functioning, it cannot see unless physical eyes become unseeing. It needs energy to function and same energy has to be redirected.

A region of the head that psychic information and dream stuff uses as a mechanism to alert conscious mind it is there it be perceived, It consists of the Pineal Gland. When we see through physical eyes, we can see through physical body.

Third Eye is not part of physical body, but subtle body. That’s why physiology cannot believe that there is an existence of Third Eye. With this eye functioning, we can enter a different dimension and see things which are invisible to the physical eye but visible to the subtle eye.

With Third Eye functioning, we look at a person, we look at the person’s soul, at the spirit, not at physical body through physical eyes, but we cannot see the soul. The movement through this eye transforms into a new world, a subtle world. We start seeing things we have never seen.

The Third Eye is a symbol of enlightenment. It is the ajna chakra, sixth chakra also known as brow chakra or brow center.

This is commonly denoted with a dot, eye or mark on the forehead of deities or enlightened beings, such as Shiva (Hindu God), the Buddha or any number of yogis. This symbol is called the “Third Eye” or “Eye of Wisdom”, or, in Buddhism, the Urna.

In the Upanishads, a human being is likened to a city with ten gates. Nine gates (eyes, nostrils, ears, mouth, urethra, and anus) lead outside to the sensory world. The Third Eye is the tenth gate and leads to inner realms housing myriad spaces of consciousness.

The Pineal Gland was the last endocrine gland to have its function discovered. Its location deep in the brain seemed to indicate its importance. This combination led to its being a mystery gland with myth, superstition and even metaphysical theories surrounding its perceived function.

The Pineal Gland is occasionally associated with the sixth chakra and it is also called as Ajna or the Third Eye chakra in yoga. It is believed by some to be a dormant organ that can be awakened to enable telepathic communication.

But the human body has another physical eye whose function has long been recognized by humanity. It is called the ‘Third Eye’ which in reality is the Pineal Gland.

It is long thought to have mystical powers. Many consider it the Spiritual Third Eye, our Inner Vision.

There are two physical eyes, we all can see. There is not a Third Eye physiologically in our own body, it is a metaphor. When we look into existence with absolute undivided consciousness, then we are one.

When Jesus said to his disciples,

“If you’re become of one eye, then you will know my Kingdom of God. If you attain one eye, then all bliss be yours and all benediction”.

It is all about the Third Eye which is also known as the Sixth Sense.

[regular-gnome]

HELLO im 14 ,love your work and i would love to hear your thoughts

1 how do titana fly ,like we know from papa titan that at least SOME titans have wings , but like ,ther the size of small countries ,and their wings have HOLES in them ,maybe bc of their blood some of their mass exist outside the universe or in a pocket dimension ,thus making them much lighter then they should be , or maybe they just use levitation magic to levitate and they use their wings for steering ,

2. who was the bat queens owner? she can't be the titans palisman right ,even with hoe big she is she still gets dwarfed by the titan at full scale .

3. is the owl beast related to hooty ,

Hi! For the first question, there are a few options to consider. We doon't really know whether titans were capable of flight using their wings or not really. Titans vary greatly in appearance based on the skulls and body structures we've seen so it's maybe their wings had different purposes, could be more like different birds types kind of deal. Some titans may have used their wings for flight, while others might have used them for swimming or as a form of balance. They are massive and hold upright posture so they might be very useful for this. Their niche in the ecosystem could have changed over time, something like comodo dragons do, young live and feed diffrently than the older ones, something that can be taken to an extreme with titans and their wings might have adapted to it. Another thing appearance of holes in their wings could be a result of their tissue structure rather than actual holes. If you're interested in speculative biology approach and how titans might function @velvetwyrmz is creating beastiary that goes into it. We use pretty diffrent worldbuilding but its a cool project that goes into titan physiology

For palismen, I think they have origins tied to titans. Palistrom growing by absorbing titan magic, takes on the form of a creature using that magic after being carved. This could explain why palistrom growth is slow and why plant covens can't force it. Palismen accompany younger titans as they grow in power, serving to protect and give their magic before the titan is poweful enough to protect themself serving more as companions after they outgrow their usefulness. This tradition could have been adapted by witches on a smaller scale. It also explains why palismen live much longer than witches—they weren't meant to accommodate such short lifespans. I think this was implied by Bat Queen when she mentioned being on a grand staff belonging to a giant

Not really, but I think they are both types of demons that originate from the titan. Hooty or house demons in general, were the ones that formed in titans' wounds, while owl beasts are demons that evolved from decomposing bodies, both looking owlish could be atributed to convergent evolution

[alicepooryorick]

Gender and sexual-based violence takes many forms and is perpetuated in many ways; however, one topic that always seems to float to the top in these discussions does not change: porn. Many communities, not simply those interested in sexual violence, love to discuss porn, its evils, and maybe even its benefits. However, often in this discourse, the term “porn” or “pornography” turns synonymous with the live-action variety over any deeper discourse regarding any additional types of pornographic content. These include but are in no way limited to, hentai, original smut writing, and transformative smut writing, otherwise known as explicit fan fiction. Transformative works are of special interest, as they lie beyond any traditional means of distribution or production, provide a mask of identity, and are predominantly written by non-male individuals  (McInroy & Craig, 2018), leading to a unique situation wherein unusual demographics both consuming and producing pornographic material may publish whatever one wishes without consequence or even so much as identification of the original author if so wished. This, while also providing a look into how non-masculine individuals interact with explicit content in positive terms. Fandom and transformative works are, of course, an understudied area in academia, in part due to the recency of fandom and transformative media in spaces outside of religion. This study hopes to give insight into porn and our interaction with the content there in, in ways we do not typically get to view it. In this way, we hopefully will develop a deeper understanding into the concept of sexually explicit work.

Research methods:

Fan fiction and transformative works in this regard come in two main forms: text-based transformative works hosted primarily on the Archive of Our Own (though many sites exist) and pornographic comics/manga (or hentai as they are technically called) hosted on a whole host of websites unfamiliar to the author. As such, research on these transformative works shall primarily take place on the Archive of Our Own, henceforth referred to by the common abbreviation “AO3”, utilizing their search functions and provided data to glean context on the subject. This work will focus on larger trends over individual works, opting to look at trends in the data over individual works. Fandoms will be decided by popularity as according to the Archive’s provided data. The top five per category (Anime/Manga, Books, Comic Books and Cartoons, Music, Other, RPF (Real Person Fiction,) Theatre, TV, Video Games) as provided by AO3. By using these, we can look at where the majority of the traffic takes place on the site easily. Beyond looking at fandoms, the Archive provides lots of data, as well as methods to sort and search its database by key phrases that users apply to their own work, as well as some required tags for categories like “Relationship pairing,” “Warnings,” and “Age Rating.” Using both required tags and user generated tags, AO3 can provide us with data required for investigating

Theoretical Framework:

Symbolic interactionism is, of course, the core lens with which to look at any text, and here, it is no different. However, some ideas from post-structuralism may also be taken, specifically in the idea that society perpetuates socialization that we, in turn, use to recreate society imperfectly. In this scenario, we may take the meso-level community of fanfiction writers and try to understand how themes perpetuate within the sub-society of smut writers on AO3. While symbolic interactionism is obvious in its usage; post-structural ideas may not be instantly obvious to use. However, we can only understand large scale trends in the data through an understanding of society and discourse structuring our thoughts, and then us rebuilding society. One other framework shall be used, Pagliassotti’s Ten Dimensions for understanding the desire to consume same sex (typically male on male, or yaoi) media. (Zsila et al., 2018) (Volume 5, Issue 2 – Participations, n.d.) As there is a large sect of the data for which this is needed to properly understand what we are seeing.

Biases:

Going into this research, I had already had extensive experience participating in fandom and transformative communities, specifically using Archive of Our Own (AO3) and Tumblr to engage in discussions regarding transformative works and their source material. As such, and as Sociology is commonly jokingly referred to as “the study of things we already know,” I already had some idea of what to expect coming into this study. However, initial review of this data has revealed unexpected notes not previously expected.

The first aspect of this study that I expected and was confirmed on was the prevalence of Male-on-Male relationships, something many individuals interested in fandom question the prevalence of. The high rates of non-straight non-men in the communities would, to many, imply that female characters may get a greater chance to shine, however that is not what we see. Indeed, though there is no way to quantify who the main character of a transformative work is through AO3’s provided data, we see the Male-on-male category shoot to the top of every fandom, implying that, as AO3 asks only for the main relationship (alongside the presence of a tag specifically for multiple relationships,) men are disproportionately leading the stories written in fandom spaces. Interestingly, this trend holds in explicit content too, where in most fandoms prioritize male-on-male relationships, then straight relationships, although “Multiple relationships/multiple partners” tends to also be prevalent in explicit fiction too.

An additional point can be made as to the prevalence of certain media in fandoms, as well as how horny they are, which was interesting. Obviously some media is more popular than others, however I did not expect the discrepancy between what I will term “macro fandoms” (TV, Books, Cartoons, Movies, Video Games, Real Person Fantasy (RPF) , and Theatre) (categories provided by AO3) to be so great; with Real Person Fantasy (primarily KPop RPF) standing at an average of 24% of all works being done in the category being rated as explicit, while theatre based fandoms stood at a simple 8%. This implies that there may be a correlation between how media is consumed and how we are affected by it, otherwise said, “the medium is the message.”

There is so much data to be looked over, even from what has been collected . Many questions are raised by the data, such as how the tag combination (written “Fandom, Rating, relationship”) “Marvel, Explicit, Other” makes up for 43% of all “Marvel, Other” works. However, this research is giving interesting data into the world of female led pornographic material, and much can be interpreted on how women desire, but also how patriarchal values can be internalized. Additionally, I will leave with one note where in the fandoms where I collected data were all media in which men take main character roles. This is not a bias in the selection though, I feel, as all top fandoms are male led, with the exception of theatre based fandoms, where in we do see two things happen: female character led media is allowed into the top five lists from which I took my data on fandoms, and the amount of works in the meta-fandom take a nose dive.

Methodology:

Data collection:

Data was taken from the website itself between September to October 2024, and all data was taken from AO3’s provided statistics, available on the website. Data was copied by hand and Microsoft Excel was used for statistical analysis. I utilized the pre-provided tags AO3 uses to sort works on the website. (Tutorial: Posting a Work on AO3 FAQ | Archive of Our Own, n.d.) Data was sorted into Gender Pairings, Work Count, Explicit Content, and the Top 200 Tags. Additionally, data was taken from PornHubs “Year in Review 2023” (2023 Year in Review - Pornhub Insights, 2023) for comparison.

Gender Pairings:

            There were five variables in Gender Pairings, which was focused at looking into trends in gender dynamics in fan fiction work:

Media, which were the fandoms the pairings were taken from, which were the top five fandoms, plus MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe) which was included as both it and the generalized “Marvel” media tag were within the top. Notably, “Meta-Fandoms” such as K-Pop were excluded from the analysis, as these encompass multiple other top fandoms and may bias data.

            Pairing, which was the one of the mandatory tags from AO3, as such each come with a provided definition of what to expect, provided in Figure One.

            Pair Count, which was the provided number of works using that category of pairing in total; both explicit and not, per media.

            XXX Pair Count, this was done by using the filter results in a given media to sort by only explicit works within that fandom, and then recopying the new totals for Pair Count.

An additional, the smaller set of variables attached to this category was “Dead Dove”, referring to the rating above explicit that is not provided by AO3 as a part of the mandatory ratings tag, but instead is a user generated tag that appears in the Top 200 at time of data collection (Tags | Archive of Our Own, n.d.). Dead Dove, Do Not Eat means that the content within the work will be beyond that of what is reasonable to expect, typically graphic imagery of taboo subjects, and gratuitous depictions and descriptions dark subject matter (rape making up the number one tag associated with Dead Dove Do Not Eat.)

This data was organized by Pairing, as previously defined, but now taken from the Dead Dove Do Not Eat search as opposed to per fandom, and Dead Dove Count, which was the amount of the tag each pairing made up. Dead Dove; Do Not Eat was not restricted to just being under “Explicit” rating, but instead all ratings, so as to capture the full story better.

Work Count:

Work Count was made up of four variables and was focused on seeing the trends in what the popular medias and mediums were.

Title, which was simply the name of one of the top five fandoms per medium category. (Fandoms | Archive of Our Own, n.d.)

            Work Count, which was the amount of total works per fandom.

            Medium, which was the specific medium the fandom is a part of. If the fandom belonged to multiple mediums and was in the selection parameter to be chosen in multiple mediums, I instead labeled it as “Multi-Media.” Beyond there, the comprehensive list of what AO3 classifies as a “Medium” is available at this citation (Fandoms | Archive of Our Own, n.d.).

            Explicit Count, which is simply the amount of works tagged as “explicit” by the users of the Archive per fandom.

Explicit Content:

Finally of the major categories, I collected data on the most popular tags in sexually explicit works. To do this, I used a slightly flawed method that I feel still held value and accurate data, which was to search for works tagged as having “Sexual Content.” This method was used as the Archive has no way of searching for just explicit rated works, and so round about measures were used to find the data I was interested in. Data was collected once again by using the provided data from the filters on AO3. The data for explicit content looked to investigate the specific type of content readers look for in their porn. Data was taken in two variables:

            Tag, which was taken from Figure 2 (Sexual Content - Works | Archive of Our Own, n.d.) almost directly.

            Count, which was the number of works with the given tag on AO3.

Top 200 Tags:

An additional point of data was less collected and more provided to me. AO3 offers their two hundred most popular tags that are not sexual positions to be viewed, sorted alphabetically and shown with size on the web page being proportional to their popularity. This data was mostly approached qualitatively, looking for trends and artifacts of something bigger.

All data was taken from approximately 13,920,000 works, 7,678,000 users, and 68,290 fandoms, and was publicly available on the website. (Home | Archive of Our Own, n.d.)

A Note About Tags:

            It is worth bringing up how the tag system on The Archive of Our Own works to properly understand some of the data collection. The tags on the Archive are user generated; however many popular tags are lumped under one tag or fandom tag. An extensive explanation on how tags are input can be found here: (Tutorial: Posting a Work on AO3 FAQ | Archive of Our Own, n.d.) However, the important part to understand in what makes my data collection possibly problematic in Sexual Content is that notably if tags get to large, they will splinter from the “main” tag. An easy example of a partial splinter is the MCU and Marvel being separate but related fandoms, where MCU stands as a fandom of its own, big enough to qualify for the Multi-Media tag equally as much as Marvel proper (which also counts MCU, which I took measures to remove from the Marvel data.) Why I bring this up is that in the top 200 tags, we see Smut and Sexual Content both appear separately, despite them being the same thing, more or less, in fandom. This is brought up as there may be marginal errors in my numbers as some works may be tagged as smut but not Sexual Content, or vise versa. (Tags | Archive of Our Own, n.d.)

PornHub Data:

Additionally, further data for comparison is taken from PornHub’s 2023 Year in Review (2023 Year in Review - Pornhub Insights, 2023) and PornHub’s data on top searches by women on their site (Women’s Favorite Searches Worldwide - Pornhub Insights, 2016). This data is used to compare transformative media trends to that of traditional pornographic material. Data discrepancies between porn searches, female porn searches, and popularity of tags in explicit transformative media all tell us about how we interact with porn. PornHub is being used for this data due to its dominance in the porn space, as well as its data being easy to access.

Findings:

Gender Pairings (Figures 3-6):

            Out of 2803347works looked at within Gender Pairings (Figures 3-5), 2244399 (80%) works involved a direct relationship as a focus of the work. Of those 2244399 works, 475135 of them (21%) were rated as explicit. Explicit content was notably not spread evenly among gender pairings (Figure 5) instead, a discrepancy between the pairings arose. Lowest was General (G)(~1%), which again is the gender pairing tag used to mark no major relationship dynamic within the work. The highest rate of explicit content was contained within the Multiple Partners tag (M)(24%) but Male/Male dynamics (MM) were close second (23%). Female/Female (FF) sat at 17%, straight dynamics at 19%, and Other Dynamics at 19% as well. Notably, once broken down into individual pairing-media entries, an interesting outlier emerged; “Marvel, Explicit, Other” stood as the highest percentage of explicit content, with 43 percent of content within “Marvel, Other” being explicit. Looking into the set of tags on the archive, a trend rapidly emerged:  it was disproportionately works relating to the alien Marvel character, The Venom Symbiote, more colloquially known as Venom.

For Dead Dove; Do Not Eat, we see the data spread in Figure 6 where in it is shown that there is an even larger disparity between dynamics, with Male/Male dynamics taking up almost half the Dead Dove; Do Not Eat tag. One curiosity I got while looking through the data on Dead Dove Do Not Eat was how much, roughly, of the site does it make up. It makes the top 200 tags. (Tags | Archive of Our Own, n.d.) comparing the amount of works tagged as Dead Dove; Do Not Eat (106,096) to the site total (13,860,000) we see that 0.77% of all works on AO3 are tagged as such. This percentage only makes sense when contextualized next to “Sexual Content,” (1,926,454 works) which makes up approximately 13.9% of works. This means that the Top 200 tags are a highly diverse set with a lower floor of entry than I perhaps expected. What is more, AO3 provided tags that are closely associated with Dead Dove; Do Not Eat (Figure 7). Important to note that it itself is the top tag associated with Dead Dove; Do Not Eat. This is simply an artifact of how the archive works. What we see is that largely Dead Dove; Do Not Eat content is sex centric, with Rape and Anal Sex both being in the top three tags most highly associated, sandwiching the tag Angst.

Work Count (Figure 9):

                        Work count lends some more interesting statistics to the study, notably how much explicit work is being done not only per fandom but also per medium. A reminder is needed here before we dissect some of this data that not some medias overlapped with multiple mediums and, as such, I elected to sort them into their own “multi-media” categories, as while AO3 does separate between Marvel TV shows and Marvel movies, they do not separate them fully. As such to not bias results, and to better understand these unique and frequent cases, I separated them into their own section.

            Within the Work Count data, we see once again differing priorities placed on which works to write about, and indeed make explicit content of, with great discrepancy seeming to take place by medium. From least to greatest we see: Theatre (8.28% explicit percentage,) Multi-Media (15.44%,) Books (18.3%,) Anime and Manga (18.53%,) Real Person Fantasy (RPF) (21.22%,) and Music (24.17%.) What is most interesting here is the prevalence of porn about celebrities, with the top two mediums functionally being one and the same in that they deal almost entirely with real people. Indeed, if we sort by percentage of explicit content, we see the top four leaders in explicit content are as such: Actor RPF (28%), Stray Kids (a KPOP Band)(28%), BTS(Another Korean band)(25%), and Music RPF (24%). I will restate that anything lumped as “RPF” largely will be encompassing other fandoms, as we see with Music RPF being alongside two KPOP bands.

Explicit Content (Figure 11-12):

            Data here is fairly simple to interpret, the top tags associated with “Sexual Content” all make intuitive sense for the most part. “Implied Sexual Content” and Angst are interesting, although the latter could simply be an artifact of the popularity of the Angst tag. However, this is pure speculation. Seeing the top results being dominated by porn categories makes sense, as those are of course going to correlate to pornographic content. It is not a perception shattering category, simply more of sociology being the study of stuff we intuitively knew.

            Looking into the data on the rate of warnings associated with sexual content used on AO3 tags, half of all works have “Non-Applicable” selected, with a further 33% chose not to use warnings, an option that, though is provided to allow for major plot points to not be spoiled, tends to function one and the same as “Non-Applicable.” After that net 83%, we see Graphic Depictions of Violence in third, with rape in fourth, the two sitting at 8.63% and 8.57% respectfully. Underage warnings sat just below at 7.4%, and Major Character Death was last, with just 2.97% of all works tagged as having Sexual Content also having Major Character Death warnings.

PornHub Data (Figure 13-14):

            Looking at the data provided by Pornhub, we see an interesting top 15 terms most searched, going as such (Pornhub on left, PornhubGay on the right)

#1 hentai

#1 twink

milf

anime

lesbian

pinoy

japanese

asian

pinay

hentai

anal

curious straight friends

asian

straight

latina

furry

big ass

femboy

step mom

black

anime

korean

threesome

bbc

ebony

massage

massage

japanese

#15 creampie 

#15 gangbang

            Of the top 15, we see one third of the results of straight porn, either being directly Asian (Japanese, pinay, Asian) or related to Japan directly (hentai, anime.) If we look at the percentage of the top fifteen taken up by racialized minorities, we see that again, a third of the top results are related to the sexualization of racialized minorities, with those of south Asian decent being higher than Latina or Ebony categories.

Interestingly, though “lesbian” is ranked so highly (reaching number spot number one in America.) The article this data comes from gives deeper insight that is very important, stating:

“It would be easy to theorize the popularity of this term could have much to do with the fact many of the viewers on Pornhub are straight men, but that would not do the data justice. Not only was it the 3rd most searched term overall, but it was also the most viewed category of 2023. For men, it was the 7th most viewed category, but for women, it was the 1st. It seems to signify that no matter your gender or sexual orientation, viewers love to see two women getting together.” (2023 Year in Review - Pornhub Insights, 2023)

This is contradictory with the data seen from AO3, and this data is referring to modern porn trends from just last year, not the article on women’s preferences in porn from 2016. It is interesting to see this discrepancy, and perhaps it is simply due to demographic differences between those who consume porn and those who consume transformative media.

What this Means:

            The data above all lends itself to a look at the ways in which women chose to interact with porn from a creative’s point of view as well as a consumer. Fanfiction or transformative media uniquely has a culture of the author writing that which they want to consume, leading to the act of creation and the act of consumption being largely the same (Shit Tier Ugly Ass Elf, n.d.) (Useless on Rainy Days., n.d.), functionally, for our purposes. If people are creating a tag in disproportionate measures, that means there is disproportionate demand from what we would see if we assumed pure random creation.

Discussion:

            Though we see many trends within the data, some are of particular interest. Of course, source media is not a prominent aspect of traditional pornographic materials. That said, AO3’s sexual dynamics trends are of interest, as are artifacts of the culture surrounding AO3 content, as well as themes specific to AO3. Additionally, the comparison of popular tags on AO3 to the popular terms on PornHub are of great interest, due to the aforementioned gender dynamics.

            As previously mentioned, transformative media, and especially fan fiction, is predominantly created and consumed by people who are not heteronormative men. Predominantly this means cis women are the highest demographic, while other gender categories trail behind. This is reflected in an odd way, wherein we see that predominately fanfiction is male-lead dominated in its body, porn or otherwise, or that at least men feature heavily. Indeed, comparing the amount of just M/M relationships to the body of data taken in Gender Pairings (Figure 4) we see that of 482771 explicit works,51% are man on man, leaving not even half for the other five categories. This is compared to the 7% of all explicit works taken from the body that dealt with W/W relationships. At this point in the data, I chose to investigate if this is a selection bias caused by the fandoms selected in Gender Pairings (Figure 4) and went back to the data to compare gender dynamic counts in the Sexual Content so as to eliminate any bias created by the top fandoms being all male led, which in and of itself is highly interesting. Looking at all works with sexual content, lesbian relationships grow in popularity to 10% of the body, however yaoi grows further, increasing in discrepancy to a staggering 62%! Ironically, though this was supposed to see if disproportionately male works had been chosen, we see the opposite. The top 5.5 fandoms are 11% less M/M dominated than the entire body of works tagged “Sexual Content.” Largely, this could relate to multiple things. One is that women may consume male on male pornographic material for virtue of being attracted to men, and therefore this simply reduces the amount of women they may see. There is, in fact, some work done in the study of yaoi media; and from which I will quote the ten dimension motive set,

            “The first, “Pure” love without gender dimension refers to a motive to view/read romantic contents in which gender differences are not present. The Pro-gay attitude/forbidden & transgressive love dimension represents a motive to view/read materials that portray a positive picture of homosexual men. Identification/self-analysis refers to yaoi viewers’ and readers’ motive to better understand their own feelings and dilemmas. The Melodramatic/emotional elements dimension represents a motive to experience intense emotions. Dislike for standard romances/shoujo reflects a motive to avoid heterosexual romance stories (e.g., shoujo) due to their often one-dimensional female characters and ‘boring’ narratives. A female-oriented romantic/erotic genre dimension refers to a motive to consume yaoi because it caters to women’s narrative preferences. Pure escapism/lack of reality reflects a motive to escape daily life. Art and aesthetics represents a motive to view/read yaoi for its distinctive graphic style. The Pure entertainment dimension refers to a motive of seeking relaxation and entertainment. Finally, Arousing/sexually titillating reflects a motive of seeking sexually arousing content.” (Zsila et al., 2018) (Volume 5, Issue 2 – Participations, n.d.)

            Approaching the question of the prominence of yaoi media from this new perspective, let us break down each dimension and compare it to what we know of fanfiction.

Pure Love [AG1] is easy to argue for, as it would be an appealing for many to read media where the one they are to project on to is not inequal, however if we are to subscribe to the idea that the consumer and creator are one and the same in fanfiction and transformative media as a whole, would it not be sensical to argue that this should not matter, as the one dictating the demand is also dictating the supply? Could it be that, perhaps, even in these fictions the ideas of patriarchal values are held close enough that it is difficult to imagine a non-heterosexual relation that holds no inequality? As norms become part of who we are, the heterosexual dynamic becomes symbolic of a power imbalance. But what of non-male, same sex dynamics? I would argue that this argued symbolic nature shines through once more, and that even with the absence of a man, the idea of the oppressed woman may hold to strongly for the written lesbian dynamic to exist without some idea of the way women are treated in society bearing down on the writer’s preconsciousness. As such, the male on male dynamic is defaulted to, with the women able to insert themselves into this identity easily enough that it is irrelevant that it is not technically a woman they are projecting onto.

Pro-gay Attitude/Forbidden and Transgressive Love is simpler to understand, some people may simply enjoy reading representation, regardless of if it is their own or not, and as the consumer here is also the creator, it is reasonable to assume that this causes some people to write male/male dynamics simply to normalize the idea.

Identification/self-analysis another fairly obvious one to apply to transformative media, as writing is a common method of processing emotions and used for various therapeutic reasons (Klien, 2010) and that even reading can help us understand the world around us better, it stands to reason that transformative media is no different. With the high rates of queer individuals in the space, and that the majority of them identify as something other than male or masculine (McInroy & Craig, 2018). While in no way do I feel that this alone is enough to cause the massive preferential bias towards male/male dynamics, to pretend that only one cause is at play would be foolish.

Melodramatic/emotional elements I feel needs very little explaining the significance of, as it is fairly simple aspects of what makes media enjoyable, and was explained well by the quote above.

Dislike for standard romances/shoujo this is of interest, and wraps back around to what was talked about under Pure Love, that the heterosexual relationship can be symbolic of an inequal one.

A female-oriented romantic/erotic genre this is the closest link to fanfiction, as we can understand the fanfiction as almost the most female audience centered fiction possible, with the creatives creating for themselves what they want to see with no interference.

Pure escapism/lack of reality is one place I would go further than the provided theory. Again, if we are to believe that the target audience of the work is the creator themselves, then the idea of the work takes shape as less a media but an avenue to pretend in. Indeed, though it is not included in the top 200 tags, the tag “y/n”

Art and aesthetics apply the least, as many transformative works are purely text based.

Pure entertainment Once again, explained well by the quote, no porting needed.

Arousing/sexually titillating and lastly, this, which is especially prominent within our context.

            This very clearly moves away from a reductionistic perspective of yaoi consumption as just a fetishistic past time, though it could still be argued it is. What compounds the data on gender dynamics is the data on Dead Dove; Do Not Eat where in we see 47% of works be male/male dynamics, and 23% made up by straight dynamics. After this, Multi, f/f, General, and Other all make up roughly the same proportion of the Dead Dove body at around 7%. This follows trends in the most popular ships, where in the top seven dynamics are all yaoi or straight dynamic (Figure 4.) More than likely, this discrepancy is in large part caused less by a conscious effort to write men in extreme situations, or straight relations similarly, but more stems from the popularity of male on male and straight dynamics. That said, one aspect of the ten dimensions that is bolstered by the prominence of male in male Dead Dove content is Identification/self-analysis where, as previously discussed, writing with this degree of abstraction may aid in assisting those with processing their emotions and trauma.

            A further puzzle emerges in the lack of female on female dynamics, and while certainly some of that can and should be attributed to heteronormativity and the prominence of straight relationships in media, we are still faced with the question of why lesbian dynamics are less popular than male on male dynamics. To respond to the obvious answer to those on the outside of this scene, it is not the lack of lesbian representation. Many popular dynamics written in fan fiction are not canonical to the source material. Looking at top relationships on AO3, we see relationships such as Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, colloquially referred to as “Drarry,” (Relationship(s) - Works | Archive of Our Own, n.d.) a relationship that is completely made up by fans. One answer for this discrepancy comes from an aspect of cultural discourse that constructs lesbians as, to some degree, "That a woman might desire a woman 'like' herself, someone of the 'same' sex, that she might also have auto- and homo- sexual appetites, is simply incomprehensible.” (de Lauretis, 1988) that is to say, some aspects of our cultural preconscious still constructs the idea of a woman as less sexual, and to that end, less relationship oriented. I would add further, beyond what is said there, that our construction of what a man is is based on his ability to be in a relationship. To quote Kendrick Lamar’s Mr Morale and the Big Steppers, “Auntie Diaries,” a work on masculinities where the song he is discussing what it means to be a man or woman, he brings up his perception of his trans uncle and what made him perceive his now uncle as a man:  

“My auntie is a man now

I watch him and his girl hold their hands down

Tip of the avenues under street lights made his

Thinking, "l want me a bad bitch when I get big." (Kendrick Lamar – Auntie Diaries, n.d.)

A man is as masculine as his ability to have relationship and, as we construct the female concept as the opposite of the male, then perhaps the reason we see this lack of lesbian dynamics is due to this construction and subconscious bias in how we perceive women and their dynamics. Further, we can touch on the prominence of male/male dynamics as a result of our perception of male affection being deviant. Put otherwise, the show of affection in a man is taken rarely as strictly platonic, leading the authors of these fan fictions who write non-canonical relations to bias their writing and, therefore, their data, towards male on male dynamics.

            The cultural perception on men and women are not the only artifacts of the culture surrounding transformative media. In fact, the top 200 tags on AO3 are a gold mine of data on what people are interested in creating and reading (Tags | Archive of Our Own, n.d.). Common themes pop up in the top 200, and what types of tags are frequent tell us a lot. For instance, multiple references to lead characters being underage exist in the data, tags such as “Underage,” “teenagers,” “Harm to Children,” “Sexual Inexperience,” and “Firsts” all are within the top to hundred. Another theme arises in mental health issues and trauma, with tags such as “Mental Health Issues,” “Incest,” “Abuse,” “Anxiety,” the aforementioned “Dead Dove; Do Not Eat,” and  “Suicide.” A final theme comes through in the top 200 that is more removed from these other two, which is various tags relating to kinks and explicit content. Tags like “Bottoming,” “BDSM,” “Daddy Kink,” and “Threesome” all are contained within the top 200. These, to me, speak of two separate ideal groupings, with overlap occurring. The first two groups mentioned speak to who is creating and consuming this media: youths with issues they use writing to help deal with. A fourth group I will draw upon of tags is what I think of as “external factors,” which consists of tags like “drugs,” “substance abuse,” “Homophobia,” and “gender related.” All relate to real world aspects that exist in our world that many writing would have to deal with. That all said, we see a unique picture of what porn looks like here. When compared to the most popular porn categories on PornHub, we do not see demographic categories come up beyond the tag “Boys in Love.” Instead, though, we trade the sexualization of the minority for an increased interest in porn with multiple partners. “Polyamory,” and “threesome,” both appear in this list, but we get further confirmation from our data on gender pairings where works tagged as multiple partners had the highest rate of explicit content on the site when compared to non-explicit multi-partner works. Male/Male having the second highest rate of explicit content lends support to the Arousing/sexually titillating dimension earlier mentioned too. However, from a macro perspective, looking at all the categories together, a picture begins to be painted of who is using this site and how they consume this material. Predominantly it is youths who have had deviant upbringings who try and make sense of their life, their world, and their feelings through the medium they have access to, a medium where in the facelessness of the anonymous archive allows for people to express and explore their feelings without the cost of negative action being taken on them. Additionally, we can see a difference that I suspect is largely medium based in that the tags specifically do not deal with visible demographics.

            While the tags do not deal with demographics, there is certainly still a fetishization of minorities taking place within the explicit side of AO3. The “Music” grouping in Work Count (Figure 9) is a deceptive name, as bar “Music RPF,” it is entirely Korean pop bands. Even looking at Figure 9 sorted by highest rate of explicit works, we see Stray Kids, NCT, and BTS alongside Music RPF. Not only those, but we see also media franchises from Japan also appear, with Anime “Attack on Titan” and Japanese video games “Genshin Impact” and “Final Fantasy.” There is clear bias towards the creation of explicit content of Asian people or media. That said, there are clear outliers, notably Sailor Moon which sneaks into the list as a theatre production and sits at a 10% explicit rate. Indeed, this is one oof the two commonalities we see between AO3 and PornHub. Both sites value minority (typically South East Asian) actors or characters to sexualize. However, PornHub does differ in the prevalence of lesbian categories, where we have had to discuss why it is we see so little lesbian porn (and, frankly, content) on AO3, the PornHub has no such issue in having low lesbian porn consumption, even among women. We know that different social medias attract different gendered demographic bases (Zote, 2024) as such it is possible to propose that perhaps other demographic bases go to different social medias more so than others. Lesbian porn was the most popular category for women on Pornhub (2023 Year in Review - Pornhub Insights, 2023), so we know that it is not simply a case of women not wanting to consume lesbian content. Meanwhile, looking at the tags most closely associated with Sexual Content on AO3 (Figure 15), the data we get shows a high prominence of simple sexual acts, the acts we expect to see especially when in a context of high rates of Male/Male dynamics.

What is interesting is that, unlike traditional porn, we do see a very important tag pop up in these results: “Fluff.” Fluff is a common tag used in fan fiction communities to denote happy content without conflict. Typically it denotes wholesome interactions, and is commonly found in works dealing with happy families and positive relationship dynamics. This is an important datum to see, as it fundamentally alters the perception of how sex is viewed between the two mediums. Where traditional porn focuses on sex as dominance (Antevska & Gavey, 2015). The prominence of fluff as a category of transformative porn signals to us that a fundamental difference exists between male and female dominated porn. Where traditional, male dominated porn promotes and exhibits dominance as its primary display. This contrasts against the younger, more idealistic and romantic idea of sex as something not dominant but instead loving. This though is not the full story. It is more accurate to say that within transformative porn, in this female dominated space, porn is two separate things. Indeed, I would argue it is more correct to say explicit content over porn when discussing fan fiction. Porn connotates a degree of pleasure given when reading, where as not all explicit transformative fictions aim for that. There is a dichotomous set of ideal forms that arise as you look into the data, the porn and the processing. While yes, many works are done with the intent to make an enjoyable piece that others may be aroused by, it is also true that explicit content is media as any other. Where stands a creative outlet so too stands an outlet for thoughts not safe for this world.

Conclusion:

            At its core, there are not many differences between how men and women consume porn. More accurately, I would say young men and women, who use this oversightless medium as means to figure themselves out. They find that which attracts them, and the free hand of the market does its work. That which is in high demand disproportionately will be in high supply in transformative media spaces, as often the consumers and creators overlap highly, especially in a medium as accessible as fan fiction. We see remnants of patriarchal values and structures in the data too. Though a bias towards men and specifically male/male dynamics can in part be explained by sexuality, some degree of how women are excluded can be attributed to us associating sex and drive with men, an idea that creates deviance in women who may wish to pursue sex as a platonic dynamic similarly to how men are allowed to in modern society. Additionally, we see a strong fetishization on Asian populations, both men and women as we saw not only AO3 and regular PornHub, but also PornHubGay hold Asian categories in high positions of popularity, a further colonial/patriarchal structure of denying masculinity, and therefore power, to Asian populations. Overall, while it would be easy to say that female created and consumed porn is lacking in dominance and therefore is better that traditional works, it must be stressed that though the patriarchal values re not as explicit, women still are part of society, and as such they are yet capable of perpetuating issues, even when given anonymity to hide from outside forces from. Regardless, looking past that which society places upon us, we see fanfiction smut used as something altogether different from traditional industry porn; Though fluff was a highly ranked tag in the data, more data seems to lead towards youthful demographics figuring out their identities, their life, and what they even want. Porn is used as an excuse to explore ideas that may not be discussable, whether that be for taboo or trauma reasons. The anonymity of fandom allows for those who write to explore themselves, free of judgement.

Issues in the Study:

            Though much data was collected in this study and turned into substantive findings, issues still remain in the work done. Namely, we are approaching media analysis from a purely quantitative framework. It is all to easy to point out the incompetency of approaching this issue from simply one lense with which to see. That said, the data here lends insight to the world of female dominated porn, especially without the constraints of a male dominated market nipping at the creative freedom of creatives as traditional porn may. Additionally, there is issue in the question of how well this translates to traditional porn, OnlyFans, or even other forms of transformative media that’s not fan fiction.

Figures:

Figure 1:

Text in Image: (Tutorial: Posting a Work on AO3 FAQ | Archive of Our Own, n.d.)

Choose one or more categories for the romantic and/or sexual relationship(s) your work includes (if any) from the list.

There are 6 categories of works on AO3. An interpretation of the abbreviations is below; however, the exact definitions of these vary from fandom to fandom and fan to fan. Use whichever you feel are applicable, or else none:

F/F

Female/Female relationships.

F/M

Female/Male relationships.

Gen

General: no romantic or sexual relationships, or relationships which are not the main focus of the work.

M/M

Male/Male relationships.

Multi

More than one kind of relationship, or a relationship with multiple partners.

Other

Other relationships.

Figure 2:

A list of tags on AO3 most closely associated with the tag “Sexual Content,” no filters are active on the AO3 database filter.

Figure 3

KEY:

MM: Male x Male

FF: Female x Female

FM: female x  male

M: Multi

G: General

O: Other

Key for all Gender Pairing tables.

Figure 4

Media

Pairing

Pair Count

XXX Pair Count

…

Marvel

O

21148

9096

43%

Harry Potter

M

32947

9091

28%

Marvel

M

34487

9096

26%

MCU

M

28423

7414

26%

DCU

MM

108108

27800

26%

DCU

M

15236

3900

26%

MHA

FM

72948

17631

24%

MHA

MM

160063

38106

24%

Marvel

MM

274900

63493

23%

MHA

M

26881

6192

23%

MCU

MM

214740

49102

23%

Harry Potter

MM

215322

47561

22%

Harry Potter

FM

175485

36035

21%

Video Blog RPF

FM

17624

3347

19%

Marvel

FM

190905

36001

19%

Marvel

FF

43998

8154

19%

Video Blog RPF

MM

122002

22540

18%

MCU

FM

163089

29621

18%

MCU

FF

36907

6692

18%

Harry Potter

FF

44630

8072

18%

Video Blog RPF

M

15654

2804

18%

MHA

FF

22544

3766

17%

DCU

FM

78600

12306

16%

DCU

O

8538

1326

16%

Harry Potter

O

12973

2010

15%

MCU

O

14832

2160

15%

Video Blog RPF

FF

6845

984

14%

MHA

O

14627

2073

14%

DCU

FF

54929

7428

14%

Video Blog RPF

O

15014

1352

9%

MHA

G

62854

1308

2%

Harry Potter

G

82099

1615

2%

Marvel

G

133989

1784

1%

MCU

G

111221

1401

1%

DCU

G

80794

846

1%

Video Blog RPF

G

87991

664

1%

Gender Pairings data sorted by

Figure 5

FF

Media

Pairing

Pair Count

XXX Pair Count

…

MHA

FF

22544

3766

   0.16705

DCU

FF

54929

7428

   0.13523

Harry Potter

FF

44630

8072

   0.18086

MCU

FF

36907

6692

   0.18132

Marvel

FF

43998

8154

   0.18533

Video Blog RPF

FF

6845

984

   0.14375

Average

34975.5

5849.333333

17%

FM

MHA

FM

72948

17631

   0.24169

DCU

FM

78600

12306

   0.15656

Harry Potter

FM

175485

36035

  0.20535

MCU

FM

163089

29621

   0.18162

Marvel

FM

190905

36001

   0.18858

Video Blog RPF

FM

17624

3347

   0.18991

Average

116441.8

22490.16667

19%

G

MHA

G

62854

1308

   0.02081

DCU

G

80794

846

   0.01047

Harry Potter

G

82099

1615

   0.01967

MCU

G

111221

1401

   0.01260

Marvel

G

133989

1784

   0.01331

Video Blog RPF

G

87991

664

  0.00755

Average

93158

1269.666667

1%

M

MHA

M

26881

6192

  0.23035

DCU

M

15236

3900

  0.25597

Harry Potter

M

32947

9091

  0.27593

MCU

M

28423

7414

  0.26085

Marvel

M

34487

9096

  0.26375

Video Blog RPF

M

15654

2804

   0.17912

Average

25604.67

6416.166667

24%

MM

MHA

MM

160063

38106

  0.23807

DCU

MM

108108

27800

   0.25715

Harry Potter

MM

215322

47561

  0.22088

MCU

MM

214740

49102

  0.22866

Marvel

MM

274900

63493

  0.23097

Video Blog RPF

MM

122002

22540

   0.18475

Average

182522.5

41433.66667

23%

O

MHA

O

14627

2073

   0.14172

DCU

O

8538

1326

   0.15531

Harry Potter

O

12973

2010

   0.15494

MCU

O

14832

2160

   0.14563

Marvel

O

21148

9096

   0.43011

Video Blog RPF

O

15014

1352

  0.09005

Average

#DIV/0!

14522

3002.833333

19%

Gender Pairings sorted by pairing with the average explicit percentage per pairing shown.

Figure 6

Pairing:

Dead Dove count:

Percent

MM

49556

47%

FM

24728

23%

M

8974

8%

FF

7728

7%

G

7609

7%

O

7501

7%

Sum

                     106,096.00

1

Dead Dove Percent:

0.77%

Table showing data relating to the gender pairings in Dead Dove; Do Not Eat.

Figure 7

Figure 8:

Figure 9

Table showing data on explicit works within fandoms and mediums. IsHorny quantified as (from my notes): Sorting by percentage I am going to split the data into three: High Percent (>=20) medium percentage (20>x>10), and low percentage (<=10.)

Figure 10

Figure 11:

tag (No Limits)

Count

Percent

Anal Sex

263910

13.88%

Oral Sex

187245

9.85%

Blow Jobs

159873

8.41%

PW/oP*

136833

7.20%

Masterbation

109339

5.75%

Anal Fingering

109047

5.74%

Vaginal Sex

103223

5.43%

Rough Sex

100066

5.26%

Implied Sexual Content

99782

5.25%

Established Relationship

93986

4.94%

Angst

40178

2.11%

All Fics (Tag: Sexual Content)

1,901,280

*PW/oP means Porn Without Plot

Figure 12:

Warning

Work Count

Percent

N/A

971255

50.70%

Chose Not To Use

647100

33.78%

Graphic Depictions of Violence

165264

8.63%

Rape

164076

8.57%

Underage

141690

7.40%

Major Character Death

56831

2.97%

Sum

                     106,096.00

1

Percentages taken from sum.

Figure 13:

(2023 Year in Review - Pornhub Insights, 2023)

Figure 14:

(2023 Year in Review - Pornhub Insights, 2023)

Figure 15:

Bibliography:

McInroy, L. B., & Craig, S. L. (2018). Online fandom, identity milestones, and self-identification of sexual/gender minority youth. Journal of LGBT Youth,15(3), 179–196. https://doi.org/10.1080/19361653.2018.1459220

1 McLuhan, Marshall (1964). Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man. ISBN 81-14-67535-7.

Home | Archive of Our Own. (n.d.). Retrieved November 14, 2024, from https://archiveofourown.org/

Tutorial: Posting a Work on AO3 FAQ | Archive of Our Own. (n.d.). Retrieved November 4, 2024, from https://archiveofourown.org/faq/tutorial-posting-a-work-on-ao3?language_id=en#pwtcategory

Tags | Archive of Our Own. (n.d.). Retrieved November 4, 2024, from https://archiveofourown.org/tags

Fandoms | Archive of Our Own. (n.d.). Retrieved November 4, 2024, from https://archiveofourown.org/media

Sexual Content—Works | Archive of Our Own. (n.d.). Retrieved November 4, 2024, from https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Sexual%20Content/works

2023 Year in Review—Pornhub Insights. (2023, December 9). https://www.pornhub.com/insights/2023-year-in-review

Shit tier ugly ass elf. (n.d.). Tumblr. Retrieved November 21, 2024, from https://www.tumblr.com/and-fishing-equipment/765222014254546944/people-will-see-a-fandom-thing-and-be-like-why

Useless on rainy days. (n.d.). Tumblr. Retrieved November 21, 2024, from https://www.tumblr.com/theblueeyedfirebender/765515160971608064

Women’s Favorite Searches Worldwide—Pornhub Insights. (2016, March 27). https://www.pornhub.com/insights/womens-favorite-searches-worldwide

Zsila, Á., Pagliassotti, D., Urbán, R., Orosz, G., Király, O., & Demetrovics, Z. (2018). Loving the love of boys: Motives for consuming yaoi media. PLOS ONE, 13(6), e0198895. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0198895

Volume 5, Issue 2 – Participations. (n.d.). Retrieved November 12, 2024, from https://www.participations.org/volume-5-issue-2/ (Included for easier access to the article referenced in the article above.)

Klein, Caronia (Nia). "It's not catharsis, it's cognition: A new approach to." The Keep (2010):120  It's not catharsis, it's cognition: A new approach to emotion in composition

 Relationship(s)—Works | Archive of Our Own. (n.d.). Retrieved November 13, 2024, from https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Relationship(s)/works

de Lauretis, T. (1988). Sexual Indifference and Lesbian Representation. Theatre Journal, 40(2), 155–177. https://doi.org/10.2307/3207654

Kendrick Lamar – Auntie Diaries. (n.d.). [Audio recording]. Retrieved November 13, 2024, from https://genius.com/Kendrick-lamar-auntie-diaries-lyrics

Zote, J. (2024, February 14). Social media demographics to inform your 2024 strategy. Sprout Social. https://sproutsocial.com/insights/new-social-media-demographics/

Antevska, A., & Gavey, N. (2015). “Out of Sight and Out of Mind”: Detachment and Men’s Consumption of Male Sexual Dominance and Female Submission in Pornography. Men and Masculinities, 18(5), 605–629. https://doi.org/10.1177/1097184X15574339

 [AG1]Try to find the source for the idea that women are less connected to their gender/sexuality than men.

[pfffsfic]

Post-Fall Falls False Starts- Chapter 1: The Escape

First Chapter [you are here!] | Next Chapter

It was the seventh day of the post-apocalypse, but to an outsider, it might have looked like the thirtieth day or even the seventh month.

A menagerie of floating, misshapen objects rolled against a TV static sky, and below that layer of miscellany was a layer of floating islands, cracked pieces of the world that had once been superimposed over the depressing parallel realm but was now indistinguishable from it. Towards what had once been the town center, the sounds of fisticuffs echoed outwards 24/7. People- well, the residents of this world, who called themselves people- smashed, burned, and fought each other because they could- this was the apocalypse, it was what any sensible society ought to do in the event of an apocalypse! It was their right.

Traditional currency had been ousted and replaced by gold, only for gold to be ousted two days later via mob vote and replaced by anything. Businesses that refused to accept trade deals faced the wraths of the townsfolk, and businesses that accepted trade deals also faced the wrath of the townsfolk. Wrath was difficult to avoid. The lonely dimension, which had seemed like a dark and cold place to the only one who remembered it from before the collapse, was now up in flames, some literal, some emotional.

On the fifth day of the apocalypse, the-one-who-remembered-it realized he was starting to get hungry.

The junkyard was far enough from the town center to ensure he could avoid the angry atmosphere. That was for the better. This hadn't even begun to blow over. If he were to confront his former students- no! his former classmates- now, surely there would be fresh wounds to deal with. It was tempting, more tempting than he wanted to admit, to put on a smug face, walk right into the middle of a riot at what used to be the middle school, and say, "I told you so." What would they do? What could they do? They couldn't get their precious lives back! They had squandered them! But they could beat him up, and in fact they did beat him up for much less only seven days earlier. And so he stayed in the warehouse in what was left of the junkyard and scraped the bottom of his last can of beans with a piece of metal that was almost spoon-shaped if he squinted. He didn't even like beans. He had bought them to feel like a real prepper the day he saw all this coming for the first time.

"Oh, well," he thought. "Here goes nothing, I guess."

He let out an angsty sigh, crushed the can beneath his foot- which was, to his momentary annoyance, a lot harder than it looked on TV- and got up, heading across the desolate landscape towards the distant scent of fire and chaos.

Somebody had vandalized the town's welcome sign, which now hung from just one of its tether points and read,

"Welcome to NO-more

Population EVERYBODY"

Had there been some sort of agreement to change the town's name from Elmore to No More while he was away, or was the change simply a stroke of genius by the one who had messed with the sign? Either way, he found himself almost- but not quite- smiling at it. It was the sort of reaction you would have to the fourth repost of a meme you liked a decent amount the first time. It wasn't funny enough to be funny, and yet part of him wanted to laugh.

He tossed a rock at the sign, trying to knock it to the ground in an act of rebellion fueled by aimless rage, but he rather anti-climactically missed. One short survey later to make sure nobody saw his shame, he turned on his heel and headed for the smoldering wreckage of the local shopping mall, where rock music blared and an announcer whose voice he recognized as the local news anchor- Kip something?- called out the hastily-conceived epithets of fighters as they entered the ring.

"Next up, it's, well, it's that guy-"

The blue triangular guy at the edge of the makeshift wrestling ring made a garbled noise that, unfortunately for the audience, had no subtitles. He seemed angry. For just a moment, the-one-who-remembered-it (it being the TV static dimension before it combined with Elmore proper, of course, though now that topic had come and gone) found himself mentally kicking himself for paying more attention to the fight than to his purpose here. His eye fell upon the audience, darting from one person to another until he caught sight of a green, blocky-looking man in a business suit and horned motorcycle helmet chewing on some sort of unfamiliar- but still mouthwatering- drumstick. He pushed aside a few people (which was probably fine in the apocalypse, right?) and stood next to him, trying to put up a pretense of watching the fight. A minute or so later of waiting for the triangle's opponent to show up, he turned to the man.

"Hey," he said in his first social interaction since everything he knew collapsed.

"Hmm? What?" replied the man over the cacophony.

The-one-who-remembered-it inhaled sharply.

"Hey, where'd you get that, uh-"

"This helmet? I glued the horns from a halloween headband to my-"

"No!" The-one-who- no, Rob, his name was Rob- snatched the drumstick away and brandished it in his face. "This! Where would I get one of these?"

"F-from me!" stuttered the green guy.

"WHERE DID YOU GET YOURS?"

"Give it back!"

"Tell me and I'll give it back, alright?"

"Parking garage, second floor, can't miss it," said the green guy as he grabbed his lunch back from a frustrated Rob.

"Thanks. Was that so hard?"

"Come again?"

"Never mind."

Rob let out a labored breath as he hopped over the gap between the island most of the mall was on and the island the car park was on. It was quieter out here and Rob's internal monologue no longer had to scream for him to hear himself think. Second floor, huh?

He noticed that one of the elevators was on fire and the other one had its doors stuck open on what looked like a sheer drop into darkness. Neither of them would do, and so he heeded the age old prophecy: "IN CASE OF FIRE, USE STAIRS". The stairs themselves were, as it turned out, crumbling behind a squeaky door, and he suspected that perhaps the structural instability wasn't even the fault of the apocalypse. Even so, he walked up under flickering fluorescent lights that must have been so dedicated to their jobs that they kept working without electricity and found himself on the second storey, overlooking abandoned cars and trucks alike, wondering for a moment whether he was missing the supposedly-unmissable. And then he saw it: a red van- no, the red van- illuminated poetically by the only light in the room that was still at full power! He ran to it like an old friend and the window of the driver's seat slid down, a pair of glowing eyes peering out.

"Good evening, young one. How may our humble shop assist-"

"Drop the act, dude! You got food in there, right?"

"...Yes. But it will cost you."

Right, there was no way he'd get anything for free.

"Okay, okay. How much?"

"That depends entirely on how much food you want."

"How much would, say, a drumstick cost?"

"We're all out. My apologies."

"All out. Can I see what it is you do have in there?"

There was a rustling noise and a shadowy hand held out something that looked like the cloven-hoofed leg of some unknown animal.

"This is all we have."

"I-"

Rob tried to think over the idea of eating that thing and found he liked the idea of starving considerably better at the moment.

"That'll be 50 bucks."

Rob choked on his own spit.

"No way that thing is worth 50 bucks, old man!"

"We also accept trade deals. And gold!"

"C'mon," said Rob, clasping his hands together and speaking in the best friendly tone he could muster. "You and I go way back. Couldn't you do a guy a solid? It's the end of the world."

"You think we're friends? You stole from me when we first met!"

"I could not let that thing into the wrong hands!"

"YOUR hands were the wrong hands, considering you destroyed our merchandise without paying for it."

"Oh, you have no idea." Rob chuckled, rage boiling just behind his attempt at being amiable. The shadowy shopkeeper raised an eyebrow.

"Your plan didn't work, I gather?"

"No. They didn't listen to me."

"I warned you of the dangers of hubris when you bought those machines."

"It wasn't even my hubris, was it? It was theirs!"

"I never said whose hubris it was going to be."

Rob made an exasperated noise.

"If you want the machines back, they're over at the school in one of the admin offices," Rob offered, hoping that the office in question hadn't caved in yet. "Take 'em back and we'll be even, considering the seventy thirty-five I paid. Then you could use the extra money to give me a free whatever-that-is."

"Do you genuinely want this thing?" asked the shopkeeper with a wave of the mystery meat.

"No. Well, not right now, but one of these days I'm going to get really hungry. Cyclopes eat people," he added, as if trying to psych the shopkeeper out. "Who knows what I might resort to?"

"No offense, but, young man, you seem like the sort of guy who wouldn't eat a grilled fish if it had the head still on."

Rob huffed and turned around, hands on his hips, unable to deny the accusation without falling into the bad graces of his one current shot at getting a meal. After several calming breaths he faced back to the shopkeeper, was immediately met with the urge to throttle him, and took a step back to prevent the unfortunate altercation from coming to pass.

"I'll give you a bear trap and a crowbar in exchange for that leg thing."

"Two bear traps."

"I- I don't have two bear traps!"

"No deal, then."

"AUGH-! Let me in there! I want to take a look at your cheaper merchandise!"

The van doors slid open and Rob found himself in the familiar, unsettling atmosphere of the curio shop on wheels once again. He looked over a glowing skull with gemstones for eyes, an issue of a magazine called "TIME of your death", a washing machine that looked deceptively normal, a pedestal that held an impossible triangle.

"Five minutes 'til closing time," said the driver.

"Since when does this place have a closing time?"

"Since we started having to go stock and restock food."

"Oh, that makes-"

Rob's eye widened. The word 'sense' never left his mouth, because he realized it didn't make sense. Where could the driver possibly be going? Where was the food he was selling coming from? Where did any of his artifacts come from? Well, that last question wasn't as important at the moment.

"That makes?"

"Where exactly do you find this food?"

The driver grumbled.

"Far from here."

"Be less vague or I'll kill you again!"

He reached into his backpack and moments later brandished his crowbar in the shopkeeper's face with shaky hands.

"Again?"

"No, no, don't worry about that. We were talking about where you get your food."

"Far from-"

Rob swung and missed, the shopkeeper darting out of the way just in time.

"No! No more cryptic answers! Tell me where!"

He almost saw a bead of sweat run down the shadow man's face. Was it just a trick of the light, or had Rob actually managed to intimidate him? Of course he had, he thought! He was an intimidating guy. Rob found himself full of new confidence and would have pumped his fists if he wasn't in a tense stare-off with the mysterious pair of eyes in front of him.

"Fine, kid, from other universes."

"Like the real world?"

"No, no, I don't go to the real world all willy-nilly. That's something I would only ever do for a hefty sum. Other fake universes."

Rob lowered the crowbar.

"Take me with you," he said. "I'll never bother you ever again. You can leave me in another universe. Just- please, man. Please, I can't stay here!"

"Twenty bucks," deadpanned the shopkeeper with a biting glare.

"Fifteen bucks and a bear trap."

"Fifteen bucks and two bear traps."

"Fifteen bucks, a bear trap, and a crowbar."

"Is it a cursed crowbar?"

Rob almost considered lying and saying yes, but he shook his head, forlorn, the seed of a new idea growing in his head.

"No deal, young man. If you'll excuse me, it's closing time."

Rob sighed and smiled and stepped out of the van.

"Thanks anyways."

"For what?"

"For giving me the time of day."

"Don't mention it."

The van doors closed. Rob's face was placid, and as far as the shopkeeper was concerned his spirit was broken. Why else would anyone accept their fate so calmly? He had pepper spray at the ready in case the boy had put up a fight, but he hated the idea of using it on someone who could be a paying customer (albeit not a well-paying one, right now, in this economy). It was all the better that he had gone willingly and, presumably, thought to himself, 'it was worth a try'. That was why he was smiling, right? If the boy had some sort of other plan, it wasn't immediately obvious to him what that could be, and so he put the idea out of his head, setting his GPS to a coordinate elsewhere in the multiverse and starting the engines.

As far as Rob was concerned, he was about to do the opposite of accepting his fate. In fact, he would cheat it yet again. That was his specialty.

The van wasn't even moving fast yet! It would be a cinch! This time he could get a good grip!

As it started to pull away, he cracked his knuckles and took one last look out the car park window at the static sky. He stuck out his tongue at no one in particular. If the universe could see him, it would surely be seething.

"Goodbye," he said to the same no-one-in-particular, and then he ran and he clung to life for the second time.

[kemetic-dreams]

What do great civilizations have in common?

"What common attributes do great civilizations share? They typically possess access to both local and global markets, the capacity to attract a diverse population eager to settle for the purposes of commerce and education, accepting influence and reflecting influence, I will use African examples, but this is true the world over.

There was a saying "To cure mange for a camel, use bitumen; to cure poverty, go to the Sudan." this was said at the time of the Wagadu or Ghana empire when great trading trains were crisscrossing the Sahara, both the Wagdau and Gao were mentioned as the richest kingdoms in the world and their Kings the most wealthiest beyond compare, this was hundreds of yrs before the now famous Mansa Musa of Mali, it’s ultimate successor.

These conceptions do not need to extend outside the continent although the more extensive the better, example.

These connections between West and West-Central Africa to the world are anathema to historical traditions in which ‘Africa” s isolation from the rest of the world, before contact began with Europeans, is assumed. But they emerge from a number of factors. As the historian Jan Vansina showed, similar techniques in wood-carving found from Yorùbá regions as far south as Loango suggest shared techniques and exchanges. Seventeenth- and eighteenth-century carvings from the Kuba kingdoms depict the playing of warri, a game found widely further north in West Africa, as well as in East Africa.

Other evidence suggests that these exchanges then interconnected with the long-distance routes linked to the Sahara – and these patterns may in turn have influenced how the Kongolese reacted when the Portuguese first arrived in the 1480s.

Kongo’s connection to long-distance trade routes is the only logical explanation for how sugarcane – long cultivated in the eastern Mediterranean and in the Arab worlds – grew in Kongo before the Portuguese arrival.

Long-distance trade can also help to explain the use of a shell currency in Kongo (the nzimbu), for the use of the nzimbu surely was not unrelated to the experience of the use of the cowrie-shell currency in West Africa and the Sahel; the Kalahari regions to the south were connected to the Indian Ocean trade by perhaps the ninth or tenth century, and cowries may have been involved in this trade – which offered a route for this influence to spread to Kongo addition, there seems to have been an important spiritual dimension that connected the forest Kingdom of Kongo with that of Benin to the north, for it is noteworthy that both Edo and Kongo peoples (and, indeed, peoples of the Kingdom of Ndongo in northern Angola) used diamond-shaped crosses as a religious symbol prior to the arrival of the Portuguese. In Kongo, the ‘cosmogram’ connected the worlds of the living and the dead, and was used widely on textiles and bowls used for daily life, as well as later in Christian art.

The use of the cross as a religious symbol among the Edo also suggests some cultural and perhaps commercial connection between Edo and Kongo peoples, as does the shared use of shell currencies, similar wood-carving techniques and the presence of sugarcane in Kongo, since all had likewise existed in Benin prior to the Portuguese arrival.

Yet how did these connections develop, in a region famous for its thick forests and swamps? As we have seen in other parts of the continent, rivers and seaways were roads. Many peoples along the coasts of West-Central Africa were good boat-builders, with the Vili of Loango remarked upon as such by the Portuguese in the sixteenth century. There were fishing groups to be found everywhere, and their skill in making seagoing ships is shown by the presence of Bubi peoples on the Island of Bioko by the time the Portuguese arrived in the fifteenth century.

But The idea that Europeans ‘brought’ seafaring to Africa must also, therefore, be challenged. Thus, it was most likely through African navigators that related religious and aesthetic practices grew up; and when the manikongo Afonso I wrote in 1526 of a number of traders from Benin resident in the Kongolese port of Mpinda, it is possible that they found their way there in local embarkations rather than through Portuguese networks.

The Kongo ‘cosmogram’ Kongo may not, therefore, have been as isolated from other parts of West Africa as has hitherto been supposed.

From the book A Fist Full Of Shells, By Toby Green