#the way our spirituality has been bastardized

[etz-ashashiyot]

I'm sorry, but actually I'm not over that comment whining about how several of the JVP ritual, uh, practices and bastardization of Judaism are being excluded and how we can't police people's identities.

Actually yes we absolutely can.

[Rant incoming]

Listen, I hate exclusion, alright? Inclusion is always the answer when it comes to people knowing who they are. Every obnoxious identity policing thing in the queer community that has divided us and ripped apart communities has been cruel, counterproductive, given platform to bigots, a distraction from the real issues bearing down on us, and honestly just dumb as a box of rocks. Okay? Okay.

But Jewish identity works differently, because it isn't about YOU. Becoming Jewish is about taking on Jewish culture and religion, a closed ethnoreligious culture, through the narrow path consented to by the collective Jewish people. There IS a path, but it is a highly supervised one. Otherwise it's just appropriation and cultural theft; something Jews have been subjected to for millennia. And if you do legitimately convert you do so because you love the Jewish people - the whole Jewish people - and want passionately to be a Jew for its own sake. You want to join our nation-tribe. You want to join our family.

And the crazy thing to me, the thing that still blows my mind, is that this is allowed! Even after millennia of appropriation, oppression, violence, expulsions, and genocides, Am Yisrael still accepts genuine gerim. It would be so understandable if they had closed the path entirely and tried to shut out outsiders who might bring in danger on their heels even if they themselves were not dangerous.

But they didn't. We didn't. To me this is a miracle, a blessing, and sign of true faith and hope. It is a privilege to be here.

Yet in the same turn, you gotta respect the process! You can't just declare yourself a Jew simply because you feel like it — it doesn't work like that. You can't just declare yourself an Argentinian one morning either without becoming a citizen first, even if you have Argentinian ancestry. And sure, if you do have some of that ancestry, you are connected to the nation, but that's different from being given a vote y'know?

Using a totally unsupervised, totally unsanctioned, brand-new neo-pagan ritual to unilaterally declare your membership in a tribe does not make you one of us. If anything, it proves why you never will be.

Now! Let's assume for a moment that we are referring only to the provably halachic Jews whose connection and backgrounds are beyond reasonable questioning.

You can never really leave the tribe, but you absolutely can apostasize. Plenty of Jews do it. There are plenty of Jews who find that Judaism is not spiritually fulfilling for them but something else is, and they convert out. There are halachic Jews who have walked away from Judaism in order to practice any other number of religions: Christianity, Islam, Neo-paganism, Hinduism, etc.

That is their prerogative, but by doing so they turn away from their people in a serious way and cannot be said to be practicing Judaism. There is of course room for many different types of Jewish practice, but conversely, there are practices that are too far removed from Judaism to meaningfully be considered as such. Otherwise, it's no longer a coherent group identity. And because Judaism is a collective identity, that actually matters.

The Jews as a people have decided that worshipping gods that are not Hashem is not within the realm of Judaism, which is why messianic "Jews" are not practicing a valid form of Judaism even if they are halachicly Jewish and/or have Jewish ancestry. Worshipping Jesus makes you a Christian or at least adjacent. That is a hard boundary.

And yeah — if you change the basic meaning of holidays, if you bring in lots of practices that are brand new and have no halachic or even historical basis, are often highly individualistic, and would not be accepted as Judaism by the vast majority of Jews, then it absolutely falls outside it. If I started practicing a religion that made little icons of Muhammad to pray to once a day and celebrated my ingenuity with pork roast and a nice glass of wine, I don't get to say that I'm practicing Islam.

These people are doing the Jewish equivalent. It is something else entirely. Especially because so many of these practices spit in the face of major tenets of Judaism and go against Jewish values.

To treat it otherwise is to treat it as an absolutely meaningless aesthetic rather than a living breathing ethnoreligious tribe of people who get to decide our own community's boundaries and practices collectively.

And for the naysayers who still disrespect Judaism and Jewish identity and peoplehood so much that they think that they get to define Judaism more than actual rabbis? Look, we can't physically stop you from calling yourself Jewish, but by the same turn, YOU can't force US to recognize you as one of us. You can be mad, but that's the thing about group cultural identities — that cultural group gets to decide whether they claim you or not.

[To be clear: this is not about politics — there are plenty of Jewish non-Zionists and anti-Zionists who are 100% Jewish. This is about this one specific shitty organization and this particular type of behavior.]

[storm-of-feathers]

one of these days i am going to truly and really have a bitch explosion ab how the conversation around cultural appropriation has been basically fucking stolen from black and indigenous communities.

[chuluoyi]

heartbreak hotel

- gojo satoru x reader

so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up.

genre/warnings: crack, jealousy, a dose of pettiness, hurt/comfort, fluff, zero angst i promise, suguru being a good buddy to his boyfriend best friend

notes: inspired by a very real life story :))) anyways, it takes place in an au where suguru never left and all is well with our little meow meow catoru the wonderful colored manga panel by the talented @redbluenight! this was so much fun to write (that it turned into a whopping 3k+ word, so sorry) and i even made a playlist while on it ;)

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"He's intolerable!"

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with Gojo Satoru, but if asked one word to sum it, then that was it.

When you started this thing with him, obviously you had never planned on how it would end―who started a relationship with that sort of mindset anyway? But if you could choose, you definitely wouldn't want it to end with dramatic shouting match that left you in tears.

Anyways, some things were just not meant to be. You refused to spend your whole life crying over that smug bastard, and so you moved on.

However, if there's one thing you've learned about plans, it is that whenever you already make a foolproof one, the world always has some funny way to mess it up.

Like this time.

"I... I remembered saving for months," you stammered dumbly, staring blankly at Shoko in front of you. The realization felt like a spiritual ascent. "I paid for that damn plane ticket and hotel with my whole saving. I can't just throw them away."

How could you possibly forget about this? This graduation trip that had been planned between your group of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yourself for months now. It was meant to be a getaway, a celebration of your most significant achievement after four years of barely getting by on exorcising curses and not dying in the process. This was supposed to be the ultimate milestone celebration in your life.

"Then don't," Shoko replied simply, twisting the cigarette in her mouth. "I'm still going though. No way I'm wasting that money."

"But!" you vehemently hissed. "He will be there. It means I have to see him for three days straight!"

Your cringeworthy breakup happened just barely a week ago. You had sworn in front of Gojo Satoru that you didn't want to see his face again, and yet in less than a week from now, you and him would literally share the same space―again?

"Can't I get a refund?"

"This late? Nah, it's like yay or nay at this point."

You slumped in frustration. Were the gods making you swallow your own words now? You were left with no other choice. Your frugality and tendency to get broke often compelled you to make the decision.

You were going on this trip whether he was there or not.

Meanwhile, on his end, the said smug bastard was brooding, groaning and pacing over the same predicament. Satoru had two options and had weighed them all, and somehow he still arrived at the more seemingly no-good decision.

"I'm going, duh!"

"You are?" Suguru asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Well, might be the first time I've seen someone agree to go on an overnight trip with his ex..."

"Hmph. I just don't like squandering money."

Suguru snorted, unimpressed. “Satoru, you have an entire fortune. The airfare is just an amount you'd donate to charity. Besides, you have wasted more than that.”

“Well, I want to enjoy my youth too! I’m going—who cares if she’ll be there!”

He was still miffed, recalling the day your argument spiraling out of control. How could you say those hurtful things to him?

“You never take things seriously—heck, I’m not even sure if you’re ever taking me seriously at all! Satoru, you’re always acting all high and mighty, but you’re just a selfish little twat!”

No way. The last time, he was left in the dust, not being able to say anything in his defense. So now, he would use this chance to be the one who had the last laugh. He was going, because he was 70% sure that you wouldn’t let your hard-earned money go to waste.

And he was right when two days later, he found you at the airport with a bitter scoff upon seeing him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he moistened his lower lip in that obnoxious way. “Missed me?”

You walked past him, tone lacing with disdain. “Get lost, Gojo.”

He couldn’t help the prickling sensation in his chest when you dismissed him just like that. And the use of his last name—whereas you used to call him with all sort of available pet names? Now that was just low.

“Nah, you can’t get away from me that easily, Y/N,” Satoru sniggered. “You’re going to see me for the next three days, so suck it up and enjoy the sight,” and then the idiot proceeded to pump his fist in the air. “Wooo! Kyushu, here I go!”

Suguru and Shoko merely observed your icy interactions in silence, occasionally exchanging glances from time to time.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 1 — BEACH DAY @ SEASIDE HOTEL

After the three-hour flight, the four of you arrived at Karatsu, one of the main highlights in your trip—or back then, one you and Satoru handpicked yourselves.

You swore you still had your heart frozen for him, so you didn’t know what stirred it when you saw him giggling and doubling over in carefree delight, surrounded by those beach girls in skimpy bikinis.

“Hey, handsome~ is this even okay?” one of the girls in pink thong scooted closer to him, asking him with this cheap seductive grin. “Won’t your girlfriend be mad?”

At that moment, you could’ve sworn Satoru threw you a glance from the corner of his eye before replying with a triumphant bark. “What girlfriend? I’m wholly and happily single!”

The hell?

A rush of squeals grated your nerves as they swarmed your ex-boyfriend, prompting you to stalk away in irritation.

Absolutely not. You wouldn’t let this fine establishment be your heartbreak hotel any longer.

Gojo Satoru knew fully that he was petty. He let you see that on purpose just to rile you up, because frankly, he still felt like he didn’t deserve your messy breakup at all.

But when you were no longer in his eyesight, suddenly the urge to entertain these strangers dissipated, and what remained was this hollow sensation in his chest. You not paying him attention somehow made him crave it all the more.

He recalled how you pointed out that playing in the clear waters would be your ideal graduation gift. He specifically recommended this place himself and you had agreed. He remembered planning all of this, dragging Suguru and Shoko too just to make it merrier. To keep that cute smile on your face.

You were supposed to fool around with him in the clear waters of Matsubara Beach, splashing and pulling him underwater.

And yet in reality, he was toying with these questionable women and in your eyes, he was nothing but an irritable twat.

He didn’t see you again until evening, during dinner time. And the sight before him made him want to pull Suguru to the side and trap him inside his unlimited void.

"Really?" Your clear voice rang in his ears, every bit the same as when you would energetically question him with those doe eyes of yours, as you peered at Suguru. "We should go together tomorrow then!"

His eyes twitched.

What has his life come to? Reduced into seeing his ex-girlfriend possibly going on a date with his best friend?

He almost hoped that you'd stage up your pettiness level. It was worse because unlike him, you didn't make this up just to gauge his reaction.

That night, in their shared hotel room, he ignored Suguru completely, as well as silently waiting for him to divulge where he and you were going tomorrow.

"Hey Satoru—"

"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."

It was obviously a wrong move, because Suguru apparently caught the hint and stayed quiet as a mouse throughout the night.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 2 — HOT SPRING @ KUMAMOTO

Or at least, last he remembered, that was the agenda.

Until he saw that only Shoko who was there, idling around at the hot spring area.

"Where are the others? Why is it only you here?"

She shrugged. "Geto said he's going to try the local specialties. Dunno where. As for me, I'm going to enjoy this onsen to the fullest."

Shoko noticed his irritated scowl, and a sly grin crept across her face.

"Heh, jealous much now, Gojo?"

Meanwhile, you and Suguru went to various dessert shops in town as per his invitation. Perhaps he took pity on you because you really seemed not to be having any fun at all after you stormed off from the beach area yesterday.

"Mmm! This is tasty!" you remarked, munching away the three-colored dango happily. You were so engrossed in eating today that you no longer had any room to think about anything else, which was a good thing.

Suguru smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself now." However, he appeared to have something on his mind, prompting you to hum and tilt your head in curiosity.

"No, it's just... so it's really over between you and Satoru?"

You let out a snort. "Yeah. Totally. He's an ass."

"He really is miserable, you know..."

"Nah, he doesn't look like it."

Your friend sighed. "Honestly, what was the argument even about? Both of you usually didn't take it this far."

You didn't want to go back to that topic, really. But Suguru was always the one with cooler head, and after his kindness today, maybe you could spare him a detail or two.

"It's a lot of little things that have piled up, you know," you mumbled. "It's probably just how he is, and I know. But I finally reached my boiling point. Why can't he try to see things from my perspective? Everything that's important to me doesn't seem to matter to him, and relationships need two people, not just one who resigns and the other who does anything he pleases."

And until now, you doubted if Satoru even realized what he did wrong. That was what hurt you the most. Like you were so small in his eyes, like he could toy with you and get away with it.

As you expected, Suguru would understand your point. "So that's how you feel... Yeah, I think I get it."

You thought he would end it at that, but then he went on. "I'm not defending him, Y/N. I think some time away from you would do him good, but later, maybe you can talk this to him? See if he will understand?"

"I already did, so many times." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Not to offend you, but it awfully seems like you're defending him, Suguru, despite you saying otherwise."

"I'm saying this because sometimes we can forget that Satoru is different," he explained sympathetically, and to be honest, you were surprised by his statement. "He is born exalted. He has a hard time comprehending things that come to us naturally. I just think it's a pity if... you can actually fix this, but just because bad communication, you lose the chance to."

Have you properly communicated this to him? Now that you thought about it, most of the times you would just get mad and point at the little things he missed, but never actually told him how it made you feel.

Your mind was still muddled with the fact Suguru had shed light on even after you got back to ryokan where you were staying for the night. The two of you were in for a surprise though as apparently there was a festival happening there.

Everything seemed to spark with glitters. The bamboo lanterns, lights, the gentle breeze. It created an undeniably romantic ambiance, to be honest.

You didn't know when Suguru slipped away, but suddenly, you found yourself alone amidst the visitors and dim lights.

And you found yourself to be immensely lonely.

Satoru spotted you in all your solitary glory amidst the sea of people in this godforsaken place.

No, actually it was a pretty great inn and attraction, but this trip had been horrible so far, and so he just felt everything was bad.

But at that moment, bitterness no longer clouded his mind, because you were so beautiful, bathed in the glow of the lights that Shoko had forcibly dragged him to see. If it were up to him, he'd spend the last night sleeping his heartbreak away, but now that he was here, he was thankful to see the dazzling sight of you that reminded him once again just what made him hopelessly in love with you.

And why he didn't get his sorry ass back into your good graces faster.

He retraced everything had brought both of you to this point. Your last fight was about what again? Him not telling you any news when he would be back from a mission?

No matter how he thought about it, it was a trivial matter. So what made you mad? He kept thinking, and then he imagined switching places with you. What if you didn't text him at all for three days straight? How would he feel? Oh, he would be despondent, of course.

Now he was starting to understand. He had done that so many times he could no longer keep count. Granted, you would be angry.

Satoru suddenly know how to rectify this. He can make things right. He would be damned if he didn't. He just had to pull you aside, and he was going to when he lost sight you in the crowd.

Okay, now he was frantic, as the longer he didn't see you, the more his opportunity to make amends slipped away. He moved through the crowd, pushing people in the process, earning ire and questionable glares and yet he cared none for it.

He nearly cursed at how his phone kept vibrating incessantly inside his pocket. Begrudgingly, he took it out and almost gasped.

You are calling him.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It was so incredibly stupid. You just went to pee for a bit and then somehow got yourself locked in the toilet. It might have been fine, but then the lights unexpectedly went out, scaring the shit out of you.

How could such a upscale inn experience a sudden power outage and have doors that wouldn't budge? It was worse when no matter how many times you punched the switch or banged the door, it refused to turn on or open.

You were trapped. Honestly, it took everything you had not to cry.

And so you did the next best thing aside from forcing your way out. You called your friends. First, Shoko, and then Suguru, but both of them somehow didn't pick up the call even after you had called them three times each.

That left you with one possible person left. In your frenzied mind, it didn't even register in your mind what you were doing as the line connected and the last person you'd call on the other side answered.

"Satoru," you shakily breathed out, almost crying—or were you already? You didn't know as you focused on his sharp intake of breath, most likely surprised at how rattled you sound.

"Y/N? What? What is it?"

"I—" you wheezed, hating how helpless you sounded, yet still forced the words out. "I'm locked, it's dark—and it's just so—help! Help me please! I tried getting Shoko but she didn't—"

"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Satoru's voice brought you some comfort and it helped to reduce your tears, missing how he slipped up by calling you with his usual pet name for you. "Tell me. Where are you?"

"The women's restroom… I think it’s in the east wing."

"I'm coming, okay? Don't panic. I'll be there. Just stay on the line."

You heard his ragged breaths as he muttered several "coming through!" and "excuse me!" from where he was. It made your heart lurch. Despite the spiteful breakup, he rushed to your aid as soon as he realized you were in some kind of trouble.

Was this okay, to let your relationship end just like that?

"I'm outside." And then you heard his voice, much to your relief. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"Yes!" you shouted over the steel door.

You then heard how he rummaged to get the door open, and faintly hear him cursing it. "It won't open."

You wanted to sob, but then Satoru told you with an absolute tone, sounding so sure and demanding that compelled you to comply. "Get away from the door. As far as possible. Take cover."

Oh God, was he going to do what you thought he might do?

...he did. The next thing you knew, the door—and much more than that—was destroyed, and a rush of cursed energy was everywhere. After the blast subsided, you instinctively made a run for it, and you didn't know how, but you ended up stumbling into him.

Satoru caught you in his firm embrace.

"It's okay. You're okay," he cooed, whispering in your ear gently, urging your shivering body to calm down. "You're safe now, Y/N... I'm here. You're safe."

There was always something about your trembling form that made him want to tear down everything and anything in his path just to make you feel secure. And there was always this sense of rightness whenever you snuggled in his arms. Both desires clashed in a contrasting need and want and Satoru could do nothing but keep you close to him, torn between the two.

He kept his hand on your spine, and you clung on him, burying your face in his broad, sturdy chest.

Nevermind the fact that you technically broke up with him. Nevermind that ever since this botched trip started, it was the first occasion in which the two of you held a proper conversation without spewing bravado or sarcasm.

Afterwards, he led you away from the site, and he figured it would be best to go somewhere quieter rather than the festival, and so here you were, at the deserted lounge.

You had calmed down for the most part, and slowly you felt heat in your cheeks. In hindsight, you could've tried using cursed energy to blast the door too, why didn't you think of that earlier?

And yet, unaware of your internal musings, Satoru's thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely, and blame it on his insensitivity—he chose this moment to drop it without hesitation.

"I want you back," he declared, void of any hesitation. "I'll be better, I promise. Those things you hate—tell me, and I'll make sure not to repeat them again."

He wasn't the sharpest when it came to picking up on your feelings, but Satoru vowed that if it bothered you that much, then he would do his best to avoid doing it.

But you... you were still trying your best to grasp the situation. Amidst the plot twist you just experienced tonight, his blatant proclamation was the last thing you expected so you only managed a "What?"

He held your gaze, eerily serious. “I don’t want to break up. It’s hell. We can—I can still fix this.”

He looked sincere, unlike the usual empty promises he’d give you after you went off on him. And suddenly, you understood.

“…really?”

“Yeah. Just give me another chance. I’ll prove it to you,” Satoru said, visibly impatient now. “I won’t give you up. This literally is the fight of my life right now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite yourself. If there was anything that you had learned tonight, it was that apparently you and him were still salvageable.

“And how will you prove it?”

“Just so you wait and see, sweets. I’m gonna relight your feelings!”

It was beyond corny that he took a line from your favorite song. And both of you burst into a laughter at the sheer silliness of it.

You sighed, but this time of relief, in stark contrast to your earlier sighs that afternoon. You were giddy as a smile perched on your lips. “Fine. Let’s give this another shot.”

Satoru felt the tension in his shoulder melt with your answer. A genuine, wide smile emerged from the bottom of his heart and lit up his face.

“Now, this whole trip has been kind of terrible so far, don’t you think?” He made a brief pouty face for a moment before reverting to his mischievous grin His remarkable expressiveness—reminiscent of a child's, in your opinion—never ceased to fascinate you. “I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tomorrow’s our last day.”

“No freaking way!” he exclaimed, whipping out his phone to launch the travel agency app. “We are going to redo our graduation trip. This time just the two of us!”

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with your dork of a boyfriend, but as you reflected on it, you realized that there were also many reasons for you to stay together, especially when he reached for your hand and held it firmly in his grasp.

You were unable to contain your excitement and bubbling with melodious giggles that he adored so much as he whisked you away from Kumamoto in favor of the last bullet train to Kyoto, where your long-awaited true vacation would begin.

Epilogue

“I told you this was a horrible idea. I fucking told you.”

"Can you blame me? Dude was about to throttle me in my sleep."

"Geto," Shoko scowled, her disbelief at his simple answer evident as she gestured wildly with both hands towards the wrecked lavatory, emphasizing her point. "Look—now that he had gone and done it, we're the ones footing the bill for the destruction of property!"

Gojo had blasted the washroom with a freaking Red. And the innkeeper promptly held both Shoko and Suguru responsible since their roommates were captured on CCTV and had vanished without a trace.

Suguru rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I genuinely thought it was a good idea. I didn't expect Satoru to go overboard though," then he threw her a stink eye. "And hey, you were complicit in this too!"

Shoko mumbled a string of curses as she pulled out her phone, snapping some pictures of the undeniable evidence of Gojo’s doing, and then made a call. Suguru frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm reporting him to the headquarters!"

[vaguely-concerned]

another really interesting thing in our man bashir to me is that I think this is the point where garak finally mostly relinquishes his self-appointed role as bashir's teacher. he seems to have taken it upon himself early on, for inscrutable but probably partially horny, partially cultivating a promising (and lovely) contact reasons of his own, to imbue julian bashir with some spysmarts and basic bastard thinking literacy skills, in the hopes that he won't go get his bright beautiful excitable ass killed at the first opportunity. there's a lot of mentor/protege undertone there in the early years. (if you want to get into asit stuff, very much in the same vein as palandine and garak's relationship in the beginning.)

but in omb garak really only has one of his little lectures, and it's basically about The thing about being a spy (and a person) that has most shaped his life: That's something else you've yet to learn, Doctor. A real intelligence agent has no ego, no conscience, no remorse. Only a sense of professionalism. There is no joy, no magic, no real delight to this, no winning, no recognition, and most importantly no connection; the reward for work well done is only ever the work itself. You don’t kiss the girl, get the key — you simply get on with turning yourself into nothing as best you can. and julian, who had just been trying to momentarily imagine a world where secrets can be cool and glamorous and for good, meaningful reasons that empower him to help the world rather than shameful and isolating and alienating and like a damocles sword hanging over him and everything he cares about, shoots back with 'well, but what if not that, though? that's the whole point of this game! this is my story not yours, trust me to know it better than you do. (I have more things to teach you too, if you’d just listen. And once he gets shot a little bit, garak does listen.)'

(somewhere beneath all this is almost exactly the same debate they will have explicitly later on -- "Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all"/"If that's true, that's one lesson I never want to learn". Something something the freedom to imagine and play around with different worlds in your head, no matter how cringefail james bond LARP nonsense that world is as long as it brings you hope and joy and new perspectives, kill the part of you that cringes etc. Garak you're allowed to get out of the closet in your head now, Tain is gone, you can imagine different things than what has been and no one will turn it against you. Im… sad)

through most of this episode garak is observing, and when he's not simply bitching about everything from the sidelines (<3), he's tentatively trying to throw in comments to play along, to figure out how the flow goes like he's learning a different language, and he's BAD at it hahaha. he barged in there to put himself in a position to learn something about julian bashir's ~*hidden inner psyche*~, but UH-OH spiritual uno reverse card time he's having to face some shit about his own psyche and the immense barrenness it's been forced to operate under for so long.

The learning between them has of course always been two-way (that’s partially what the whole relationship is built on), but in giving up the more ‘formal’ role — mask — of teacher, garak is also opening up space for realer emotional intimacy, letting one layer of artificiality fall and allowing more realness to shine through. even so he doesn’t let go of control completely until he’s faced with irrefutable (horny) proof that julian’s sentiments and ideals are backed by real conviction — julian knows (possibly better than garak does) what is a game, and what is real, and where he draws the line between frivolous and deeply necessary is different from where garak would and by the end of the ep I think garak trusts julian more, enough to leave the story in julian’s hands without trying to steer or form him even indirectly/sneakily. And to top it all off, the way julian uses his last dramatic speech to signal that he did also listen to what garak told him… augh.  

the teacher role, along with the lies (ever his swiss army knife god bless), has helped garak keep a sort of fine-tuned control of the level of emotional intimacy possible between them, stay in control of what narratives are even on the table. and I think finally letting that fade more into the background transforms their relationship in ways that can pay off big time down the line, for all that it leaves things a bit strange and tentative in the meantime. by garak standards he’s being positively transparent in this episode. for the first time he talks about his time in the order without any coy prevarication, he states his hunger for knowing julian better right down to his ~*hidden inner psyche*~ almost pathetically openly (<3<3<3<3). And this is just my headcanon and definitely not what was meant at the time of airing, the unplanned nature of the augment reveal being what it is, but in context of the whole show as it became it feels a lot like garak offering some of his own authenticity to signal that julian could trust him with his. It feels like garak has figured out at least the rough outlines of what julian has uh got going on and tried to make this gambit, having… perhaps underestimated the extent of the defenses julian has internally/psychologically against Being Known, quite aside from the practical real world consequences of his secret getting out. Anyway. Lots in this episode. Many thoughts.

[albatris]

rentalcar update!

it's been a hot minute since I did one of these!

today's word count is 75,595...... uh oh! "but it was over 100k a few weeks ago, monday!" yes my process is mysterious and unknowable

today I got a lot of work done due to the being at my friend's house where we just sit around and vibe together. I'm really happy with my progress!

today's mood is a severe lack of sleep and today's jam is "little lies you're told" by joywave

taglist and today's excerpt under the cut! it's jumbly and unedited sowwy

She settled on the couch and immediately sprawled herself out, bringing her legs up onto the cushions and cuddling right up to him, her head nestling down on his shoulder. Nat’s heart pounded in his chest in a rhythm he was certain she could hear. Was she coming onto him? What was this? Why was she so close?

The movie seemed to be about a zombie invasion of a small town in Pennsylvania, but Nat was finding it hard to pay attention. Partially tiredness from his night of work and the emotional stress he was under. Partially his hyper-awareness of Ripley’s presence. The longer the movie wound on, though, and the longer Ripley stayed like that, leaning herself against him all cosy, the more Nat suspected that she was simply just more physically affectionate than he was. What had the care package said about vampires and physical contact? They liked it, right?

Did he like this?

Maybe she would think his pounding heart was just exhilaration from the jump-scares, from watching so many zombie heads get blown off, so many entrails get ripped out. The movie was exceptionally gory. He was—uncomfortable. But he was almost always uncomfortable. He found himself wishing he was home cuddling his cat instead, but he almost always wished he was home instead of out. Even when he was enjoying himself, he was never truly enjoying himself.

Did he like this?

Nat tried to untangle his emotions. Fear, shame, guilt, stress, paranoia—oh, there was relief here, too. Relief and affection. Small flutterings of it. Nat exhaled and tried to release all his tension. He did like this. He hated it, but he liked it.

“What—what’s that thing called?” he asked during one of the movie’s lulls in action. “That thing that gets all up in your brain. The Greeble. The Gerbil.”

Ripley wheezed, laughing. “The Garble?”

“That’s the bastard.”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Do you believe in it?”

“I don’t… not believe in it… I guess.” Ripley reached up to pat Nat’s face, ruffle his hair, playfully. “I mean, do I believe there’s something alive in vampire bodies? Like, wriggling around in the blood and stuff? Something that gives us our power and demands life force in return? Abso-fucking-lutely. Do I believe in—in some big spiritual vampire hivemind god that connects us all? Not really. I think it’s just—a way certain people have of wrapping their heads around the physical. It’s like a comforting delusion, maybe." She stopped for a breath. "Do you believe in the Garble?”

“I don’t know,” Nat said. “I haven’t decided yet. It talks to me. I can feel a presence sometimes. It could be something alive in me, like a parasite. Or it could be a big hivemind god.”

Ripley nodded thoughtfully.

“My friend Alex thinks it’s a spiritual thing, I think,” Nat said. “I wouldn’t call it a delusion exactly. I’ve been delusional. Religion is different.”

“Does your friend think it has, like, a purpose?” Ripley asked. “That’s what I always ask that trips people up. If it’s a religion, if it’s spiritual, what’s the point? What does it all mean? What’s the higher purpose?”

“I dunno. I’ll ask next time I see him, maybe.”

“Here’s a hint: there isn’t a higher purpose,” Ripley said. “It’s all just—just a fucked up medical condition.”

“If it’s a medical condition, why is no one working towards a cure?”

“You think vampires are running around offering themselves up for medical research? We’re not human anymore. If we told people what we really are, that we’re monsters, we’d get cut up into teeny tiny pieces by the government for sure.”

To emphasise Ripley’s point, the lead of the movie ran a chainsaw through a zombie’s decaying chest.

“Yeah,” Nat agreed. “Best not.”

@transmasc-wizard @saturn-iidae @polyaubergine @tracle0 @goosemixtapes @valence-positive @the-one-who-makes-negative-noise @ambiguousfiction @afoolandathief @silverwarewolf @mecharose @vellichor-virgo @plasticseaslug @jetstargenderfuckery @multi-lefaiye @writeouswriter @junoshusband @writing-is-a-martial-art @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @sleepycaprine @cream-and-tea @gailynovelry @lefttigerobservation @indecentpause @somealienquill @cannivalisms @violetfoxsketches @approximately20eggs @mohluskiepedard @desastreus @kk7-rbs @cee-grice @northwyrm @xylophonicsynapse @careful-pyromancer @recapitulation @incandescent-creativity @whole-buncha-snakess @mysticalalleycat @thatonecrowguy @va-nila-bean @televisionjester @excessive-vampires @walkman-cat

[profoundbondfanfic]

Dunno if y’all take requests but I’d love a list of vintage destiel reccs, like canon or canon divergent season 4/season 5.

We do take requests! I'm sorry it took a while to come up with this list but here are a few of our favorites from early seasons.

A Different Kind of Falling by Lyrial [Explicit, 72k words]

“I will do it then,” Castiel said with confidence that he did not truly possess. “I will pretend to be a hunter and gain the trust of Dean Winchester so that we may locate Michael’s grace and restore him. I might not be as familiar with humanity as Balthazar is, but I am still a master tactician. I am certain that deceiving a few humans will be well within my capabilities.” As the humans would say, famous last words. (Dean is the fallen archangel Michael. Castiel is sent on a mission to restore him to his angelic self. Things get complicated, however, when Castiel finds himself falling for Dean.)

A Different Kind of Monster by roadtonowhere (lastoryx), xfancyfranart [Explicit, 89k words]

Something in Bodie, California is luring truckers to their deaths and Dean’s on his way to take it out. It’s the first time Bobby’s given him a case and, with Sam at Stanford and his dad off chasing demons, he's finally hunting monsters on his own. When an accidental encounter puts an as-of-yet-unknown monster in the passenger seat of his car, Dean decides to ice him, taking his dad's old adage to heart: a monster is always a monster. Unfortunately, Dean can’t seem to figure out what kind of monster "Castiel" is and he certainly can’t shake him.

Faith Healer by punkascas (earlwyn) [Explicit, 75k words]

Dean hates faith healers. Scam artists and power-hungry dicks, all of them. But with Sam nearing the end of his rope and desperate for a way to keep their father’s last words from being true, Dean has no choice but to turn to the enigmatic and irascible Castiel, more tattooed junkie than spiritual leader, in hopes of finding a way to cure Sam. Yet Castiel hides dangerous secrets, and Dean soon learns they have more to worry about than just Yellow Eyes and Sam’s growing demonic abilities. War is coming. Canon divergent after 2.10.

Good One's Gonna Be by remmyme [Explicit, 37k words]

Castiel Novak receives a rather alarming text message from an unknown number, and what started as a simple misdial quickly turns into the greatest friendship Castiel has ever known. But Dean has many secrets, dangerous truths about the life he lives, and would like to tell Castiel exactly none of them. A (slightly) AU, (mostly) text fic, S3 fix-it romance (of sorts).

Holy!Dean verse by bunnymaccool [Explicit, 120k words]

Dean Winchester has grown used to God dicking around in his life the last couple years. But this crap? This takes the CAKE ... or pie, rather. Now he's been thrown a whole new curve-ball. The kind that has ended the Civil War in Heaven ... but resulted in Raphael taking over, and hunting for Dean's ass on a silver platter. Not to mention dealing with Balthazar acting like a self-righteous prick, Sam having some big damn epiphany on his big brother's sexuality, and Cas eying him up like he's the world's juiciest cheeseburger. All that mixed with the chance to fix it all and set everything to rights ... but only if Dean is willing to sacrifice himself. Again. Seriously, if he ever meets that bastard God he's gonna- ... oh hey, Chuck! What are you doing here?

On Falling by kettleknight [Mature, 34k words]

After saving Dean from Hell, Castiel is tasked with convincing him to say "yes" to Michael should the apocalypse come to pass. But the time to complete this mission is quickly running out, and his superiors are expecting an answer soon. Desperate for a solution, Castiel asks his vessel for help and is forced to make a decision: help the apocalypse follow through, or crash head-first into humanity and damn the consequences.

Profoundly Different by amireal, tiamatv [Explicit, 190k words]

"Castiel?" Sam calls out, carefully. Both of them lower their guns but don’t put them away, yet: there’s no sign of a struggle, but the guy did just break out of an insane asylum by squishing an orderly. With a bureau that he shouldn't have been able to move. "We're not gonna hurt you. We're here to help. My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean." There's a loud silence. Dean can hear the wind rustling through the structure. A deep voice suddenly speaks up. It’s coarse and raspy and sounds like it hurts coming out; he’s never heard anything like it. It sends shivers down Dean's spine. "Dean?” the man asks. “Dean Winchester?" (A Season 4 AU: what if the fallen angel Dean and Sam ran into was Castiel, not Anna?)

See the World in Green and Blue by parenthetical [Explicit, 8k words]

Castiel spends a day learning what it's like to be human.

So Says The Sword by komodobits [Explicit, 85k words]

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’ Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.

Strandlines by aeli_kindara [Explicit, 40k words]

It’s September 18, 2008. Castiel is being deployed to rescue Dean Winchester from Hell. He lands in Dean Winchester’s motel room in 2003. Things go from there.

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock [Explicit, 15k words]

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

Thursday’s Child by strangeandcharm [Explicit, 114k words]

Thursday's child has far to go.

You can also check our time travel tag. We've reviewed some fics that play around with them going back in time. Here are a few:

a turn of the earth by microcomets [Mature, 95k words]

adam bites the apple by sicsempertyrannis [Teen, 11k words]

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord [Explicit, 25k words]

Face to Face with the Skies by quiddative [Explicit,42k words]

Like a Comet in the Sky, I'll Follow You Across the Universe by super_skam310 [Explicit, 107k words]

the weight of water by eddiegirl [Explicit, 46k words]

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

this is just a collection of highlights from my last Goofy Presentation Night in which i discussed (read: forced my audience to listen to) orv/yhk thoughts for two hundred and ten minutes

ill add more and rb/tag accordingly n stuff later bc its a lot of words to post and i am one very eepy boy

ON DOKSOO

In 1973, Ursula LeGuin wrote the short story The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas, which, if you’ve been around the English side of ORV fandom for long enough, might recognize due to jomeimei, our yhk scholar’s writings. If you don’t know it, the basic premise of the work is that there exists in some far-flung imagined world, a utopia called Omelas that is perfect in every way, save for the fact that its perfection is maintained via the constant suffering of a small child. (One can surmise from the title of course, that there are those who upon learning this, choose to leave the city and live elsewhere.)

One of the ways this intersects with ORV comes in the Epilogues and what happened to the Avatar of Han Sooyoung living in the 1863rd round. The Han Sooyoung of that round, if you recall, found post-suicide attempt Kim Dokja in the “real” world while looking for the author of Three Ways. Judging by her reactions, we see she has two epiphanies:

EPIPHANY ONE: There was no tls123. It was nearing the end of the year that Three Ways was published (in her and Kim Dokja’s memories), but the novel had not been published yet. The only people with knowledge of the original Three Ways timeline in the world were herself and the Dokkaebi King. If she didn't do anything, if she simply sat back and let the year finish out, she could leave WOS as an unpleasant memory and nothing more. She could save the world.

EPIPHANY TWO: Kim "Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World saved my life" Dokja would not survive without that story.

She is faced with the same dilemma those who left Omelas were faced with: does she condemn the world to save this child, or does she save the world but condemn this child?

Let's leave that thought to simmer for a while.

Now the moral quandary that she’s dealing with is similar in structure to the Trolley Problem. (Which, if the reader of this has been living blissfully unexposed to 20th century philosophy and 21st century bastardizations of such, is a moral thought experiment in which a tram is headed down a track towards five people, with a lever allowing one to switch the tracks placed before the subject. However, the second track has one person on it who will also surely die from a direct hit by the trolley. Does the subject choose action or inaction?)

And this decision, which, according to other iterations of the Trolley Problem (in which the one person is someone the subject knows and cares about) is still not even in line with those theories or justifications.

ORV is utterly rife with these sort of fun moral messes. There are countless moments in which characters are faced with needs-of-the-many versus needs-of-the-few. Kim Dokja, for one, is perhaps most memorable for these given his propensity for (continuing with the Trolley Problem metaphor) throwing himself onto the track before the tram can reach the fork.

The events of the 1863rd round (and its aftereffects) are the most direct parallel of the experiment. 

As has been established, Han Sooyoung of the 1863rd round only knew Kim Dokja for a week, if even that, and yet she is fully willing to burn the world to make sure a life in which he might be happy is given to him. This decision is even further warped when we consider that the moment of her epiphany(s) is not the first time this Han Sooyoung was faced with the Trolley Problem.

We know that (based on the conversations she has with Kim Dokja) in the 1863rd round, Han Sooyoung was operating in a utilitarian space in order to seamlessly complete the scenarios. She chose to sacrifice Yoo Joonghyuk and put him in the position of a “villain” (thereby making him spiritually “dead” to all his loved ones and peers) in order to make sure she made a perfect run. And arguably she did–upon arriving in the 1863rd round Kim Dokja (loathe though he is to admit it) cannot find fault with how she has completed the scenarios thus far, and is even (if I remember correctly) somewhat jealous of her for being able to orchestrate such a clean run.

But instead of working with her to finish her run, to draw the period marking the end of the story she’s made, Kim Dokja’s desire to save Yoo Joonghyuk outweighs his desire to save the world, and he steps in and tears it into a comma. (Yes, I’m deliberately referencing the epilogues. No, I haven’t stopped thinking about the fucking period/comma scene. Don’t talk to me.) He switches the lever back to the track with five people because he refuses to sit back and allow the one man to die.

Now, based on what we see of Han Sooyoung in this round and her immediate reaction to Kim Dokja’s dickery, she would have continued operating in her ends-justify-the-means space. She obviously does to some extent as she reaches the end of the scenarios and wrangles the Dokkaebi King into granting her a wish. Upon arriving in the “real” world she is fully prepared to kill tls123 and save the world. But she doesn’t, she has the key to saving the world in her hands, she could so very easily keep Yoo Joonghyuk from suffering a thousand lives, she could save billions of people and live a wildly successful life as a famous webnovel author but! She! Doesn’t!

Why?

Imagine for a moment, if you will, sitting in a hospital room across from a fifteen year-old boy, sleeping or unconscious, fresh from a suicide attempt. Imagine for a moment, if you will, having met this fifteen year-old boy in another life when he was no longer quite so small or physically close to death, but was equally (if not more) close to it in spirit. Imagine for a moment, if you will, knowing the exact thing that will keep this boy if not happy, then at least surviving, for long enough that you might meet him again. Imagine for a moment, if you will, knowing that withholding that thing is certain death for this boy.

How could she condemn him then? How could she, after knowing the depth with which he will love and will fight to save those he wants to save, leave him here to die, alone?

We see therefore, that as a result of her interaction with Kim Dokja, that she is fundamentally changed in her worldview: she is no longer utilitarianally or unilaterally doling out unambiguous justice, sacrificing Yoo Joonghyuk for the world, but rather sacrificing the world now for Kim Dokja. 

It is by this that we know that written into the very condemnation of the world that Kim Dokja uses to justify his consistent self-flagellation is a story of love. Han Sooyoung does not walk away from Omelas--no, she reaches in and says to that lonely, suffering child, I will save you. I will love you as you are. The three ways to survive in a ruined world have always, always been love.

[river-in-the-woods]

The Cosmic Serpent by Jeremy Narby

"How could nature not be conscious if our own consciousness is produced by nature?"

This book is a fascinating exploration of the intersection between science and spirituality, whereby Narby goes down a rabbit hole of connections between molecular biology and indigenous mythology, including the shamanistic use of hallucinogens and what they reveal about the nature of spirits.

As a biologist who tends to keep science and spirituality separate for practical reasons, I found it really interesting to see Narby delve into many examples of how indigenous shamans had, essentially, discovered key scientific concepts before their modern conception. This was something that I was already vaguely aware of, and I enjoyed Narby’s detailed expositions thereof.

Though, perhaps due to the brevity of his spiritual knowledge, I feel he may have been a tad overtaken by enthusiasm and developed some tunnel vision in his quest to realise the nature of spirits. Namely, I believe Narby may have lost sight of the notion that anything we know about spirits lies within the intersection of the spiritual and physical; there are things that lie outside of this intersection that we cannot perceive about the spirits, and likewise things that lie on the physical side of the intersection that spirits cannot perceive about us. His book deals solely with that small overlap and I would reiterate that this is not all that there is.

Regardless, I truly appreciate the sincerity of Narby's self-reflection of his experiences, the palpable admiration that comes through in his writing for indigenous people and their knowledge, and his concern for their future. He highlights some of the obstacles faced by those who would reconcile science and spirituality. Science, that was once the bastard child of Religion attempting to escape from Religion’s shadow, is now performed in ways that work against that initial desire to understand the mechanisms of the Divine.

"... biology has become an industry that is guided by a thirst for marketable knowledge, rather than by ethical and spiritual considerations."

Well, I think we've made some progress on the ethical fronts, if not the spiritual, since the publishing of this book.

To be honest, I started reading Cosmic Serpent as part of my search for more information on serpent power, and not because I was interested in the intersection of science and mysticism. I was happy to find that some key messages in this book aligned with knowledge received in my own communications with spirits. The Serpent is magic, knowledge and life itself, and one benefits greatly from delving into its mysteries.

[amrass]

Fanfiction updates and excerpts 02.16.24

I think I am getting better after my burnout, which is nice! And I also finished all my main projects, so that's also nice. Thank you for all the kind feedback and well wishes I've gotten, I appreciate them loads.

My life seems to get steadily busier in spring. I'm observing Lent from 02.14 to 03.28 together with my fiancé, who is more religious/spiritual than me, but I enjoy the mental challenge. Our main way of fasting is restricting the internet outside of work, so I won't be online as much. But I still copy paste comments/messages with me, so I can answer when offline.

The upcoming projects are a few old ideas and a few new ones. Lots of Micah, as always. NSFW content under the cut.

Main works: 

Salt 

Colm/Micah, sugar daddy precanon AU, dark content. Currently at part 5, opening Arc 2: "Christmas with the O'Driscolls". Soon readers can look forward to heavy bondage, accidental retraumatization, a murder attempt, spanking, sounding, needle play and piercing play. And Owen O'Driscoll delivering the line "As a boy, I used to weep in butcher shops," while sneaking into Colm's bedroom at night to ... check out Micah. Here is an excerpt from chapter 6:

"Don't be scared," Colm said, choosing the moment when Micah steeled himself to press his nail into the nipple. He imagined the soft, pink space giving in to his finger, all those sensitive nerve endings giving a way for him, engulfing him like a cunt. The steel mechanism kept on making a slight scraping sound when Micah pulled at them, until he drew his legs up, spreading his knees while his ankles remained bound tight together. "You want more?" 

"I'll kill you," Micah mumbled. 

"Yeah, you want more." Colm kissed the skin between Micah's cheek and ear, then finished the remaining shirt buttons. He tugged the fabric to the side so that he could kiss the boy's shoulder, until the hunching made his collarbone jut forward. It looked delicious, and Colm sank his teeth into the bone until Micah whimpered. 

The Lost and the Lethal

A motorcycle gang AU set around 1990-2010, like in GTA 4: The Lost and the Damned, with the RDR2 main cast as bikers and their horses as smaller pets. While out riding, Arthur gets tasked with recovering Micah, who has been missing from the clubhouse for a few days. After finding him in a lethal condition, there's a race to get him to a hospital, with some help from fellow members and a threat from a rival MC gang. My first attempt at whump with an VdL vs O'Driscoll MC fight in the middle. Kind ZanaZira has been helping me out with this, she is a godsend!!!

Micah came and went to the clubhouse as he pleased, unless forced to stay due to an ankle monitor. He guarded his bike like Gollum with the Ring (a reference he wouldn't get despite the gang's frequent film marathons), but it had been parked in the clubhouse garage for a couple of days. Arthur had even gotten a chance to study the red skull details amid the black paint, and read the edgy quote about vengeance scratched into the fender of the bike.

"Just try to find him, that's all I ask," Dutch said.

"Alright," Arthur grumbled, not looking forward to the shift from open roads to city alleys, the car queues, and the trucks riding his ass like randy dinosaurs. Worst of all was the smog trapped between the tall buildings, tickling the scar tissue inside his lungs. "I'll do it."

The Sweet Escape

My take on the Morbellicious "Blessed are the Meek?" scenario. Arthur has Micah where he wants him, jailed in Strawberry, soon to be hanged. Threats, among other things, are exchanged through the window bars, while Arthur is barely concealed by the nightly rain fog, and Micah's cellmate is being an O'Driscoll flavor of bastard.

"I could use a toothpick, and ... " The hand found him and wrapped around his shaft, pulling him out from the fabric. The following silence made Arthur look down, focusing on Micah's expression behind the bars. Micah was staring at his cock. Arthur flushed; was there something wrong with it? The air was cold, and he was too uneasy to be fully erect, but ...

A whistle from the corner of the cell. "Holy shit, that's a huge dick."

Micah whipped around, "Shut the fuck up, O'Driscoll!" His grip on Arthur tightened like a vice, and he groaned like some sort of demonic background choir to Micah's shouting. "One more word and I'll crack you skull open like I did with your friend!"

"Hey, no fighting down there!" a lawman called from upstairs. Arthur and Micah froze. The O'Driscoll held a finger to his lips, and then fluffed his pillows as if getting comfortable before a show.

Other pieces I am thinking of a lot but have not written much of:

Untitled Catboy Micah fanfic 

CRACK. Arthur has to take Micah to the vet to get him fixed, because his kittens are overflowing in the camp. My notes are all there, I just need to write it in one go, as I do with crack fics.

Say that we're sweethearts again

Kind of a sequel to "Through the Wilderness" set 20-30 years later. Old!Micah/old!Arthur. An AU where (low honor) Arthur is tasked to find (low honor) Jack Marston. There's reason to believe (high honor??) bounty hunter!Micah is after him. Having had a stormy relationship ending in Dutch's death, the reunion is tense, and Jack doesn’t help matters. Lol, I loved playing low honor creepy Jack ...

Slug

WARNING: REALLY DARK, HORNY CONTENT. O'Driscoll Gang/Micah. Set in my MC AU, extremely dubcon biker gangbang, O'Driscoll Thrash Party … I wanna write Micah trying to steal from the O'Driscolls, getting chased by motorcycles, then waking up in a concrete garage of some sort. Will include duct tape, drugs, vibrators, boot worship, overstimulation, alligator clamps, spider gags, watersports, the writer slobbering all over the biker wear … Colm is overseeing the whole thing and being his beyond creepy self. Colom boy, I love youuuuu (as a fiction character yada yada)

And that's it! I have a few old projects mentioned in other posts that I might work on later, but for now, my main focus is Salt, the first chapter of the MC whump threeshot, and The Sweet Escape.

[neechees]

Should non-Native people avoid using the words "folklore" and "mythology" when talking about stories from the histories of the communities of Native American cultures?

This kind of depends, because do you mean "folklore" & "mythology" as in oral history (which may, or more often, not be treated as trustable by White people), or do you mean those things as in Native spiritual beliefs like for spirits? If its for historical events, yes, you should definitely avoid using those words in regards to precolonial history & oral history not talked about in White schools or books, because they are not accurate to describe Native oral history & it'd be racist to assume that our history in our own words about ourselves is less accurate or real (which those words would imply). Many Native tribes valued accurate, oral information & history to an extreme degree to the point that (& we did this for legends too) our historians could track down who told them, who told that person, & so on all the way to the original teller so that if there was any inaccurate information, they'd be able to track down who started it. We didn't fuck around when it came to oral information, but colonizers assume that because we didn't have writing, & that many Europeans lied for their own histories (written or oral), then WE must have been the same.

As for the spiritual part, if you meant "folklore" & "mythology" to refer to spiritual things: You might get different opinions within the Native community, but personally yes, I think so. I think people use those terms in a way to delegitimize Native beliefs. Like, most people would think it would be weird if people called Christianity "folklore" or "mythology". Sometimes the two (history & spirituality) go hand in hand, however, & that doesn't make it wrong or incorrect. But Native religions/spirituality is not seen as "real" or as "valid" as organized religion like Christianity, which I further use as an example.

A lot of people straight up do not believe or understand that Native people do in fact, follow a set of beliefs based on the spiritual & religious stories of our peoples & behave in different ways & have a different worldview & way of navigating the world because of that belief system. I've gotten asked (both online and offline in my personal life) by White people if I REALLY or ACTUALLY believe in the spirits present in our stories, like it's silly or strange that I would. Like uhhh yes? That's my religion? Would you ask a Christian if they REALLY think angels exist? & then find it weird that they say "yes" even though it's clearly present in their belief system & the Bible? It doesn't help that a lot of our spirits got bastardized into "cryptids" to the point that I'm now seeing White people call literally any Native spirit or deity they hear about a "cryptid" regardless of whether or not it even has/had a history of said bastardization by White people (like "sasquatch").

Our spirits are seen as "cryptids" that we tell for fun (but don't REALLY believe in, apparently), our ceremonies are seen as fun little activities or get togethers that we do just for shits and giggles (but they don't REALLY mean or do anything, according to racists), & our sacred artifacts or objects, according to racists, aren't things akin to the bodies of Catholic saints or historical religious items, but apparently must be just really cool stuff we like to hang onto like a charm bracelet. Native beliefs are routinely mocked and deemed as silly, and have been for a long time.

So personally for me, I don't like using those words to describe Native spirituality, no, & don't think they should be used because of the above reasons. It seems to reinforce the ideas that our beliefs aren't on the same level of importance or as worthy of respect as something like Christianity. I'm a little less turned off by "mythology", but I still don't use it that much.

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: and sings the tune without the words, ch. 10

Relationship: Jiāng Yànlí & Jīn Zǐxuān, Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín & Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Jiāng Yànlí & Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Jiāng Fēngmián & Lán Qǐrén, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén & Niè Míngjué

Characters: Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Jiāng Chéng | Jiāng Wǎnyín, Lán Qǐrén, Jiāng Fēngmián, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Wēn Ruòhán, Wēn Qíng, Wēn Níng | Wēn Qiónglín, Yú Zǐyuān, Nie Mingjue

Additional Tags: Epistolary, Food, Music, Secrets, Resentful Energy, Cultivation Sect Politics, Character Death

Summary: Nie Mingjue reports to Lan Xichen about the continued discussion conference.

Notes: See end.

Previous fic in the series: “the thing with feathers”

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

AO3 link

———————

Xichen,

Jiang Yanli has been a bit busy and said you would appreciate an update. To be direct, it’s a mess.

Apparently the Jiang sect has taken in two women who have bastard children by Jin-zongzhu, and he decided to petition that they be handed over to him like so much chattel. A-Die told him that coming to a sect and demanding their women be given to him wasn’t unexpected from him even if it was more brazen than his usual infidelity and that, as well as Jiang Wuxian’s health, led to the discussion conference being recessed for a few days.

Yu-furen has been a force to behold, and Yao-zongzhu has already departed with a broken nose. She’s fiercely protective of her children, and anyone who dares blame Jiang Wuxian for Wen Ruohan’s demise regrets it shortly. One would think he was her child by blood.

Wen Qing’s testimony about Wen Ruohan’s activities was rather damning. Apparently there’s some Yin Iron artifact tainted by resentful energy that led to a big war generations ago and it was split into pieces and locked away in multiple locations. One of those was near her village, and in unsealing it he awakened a goddess statue that killed her parents and damaged the spiritual consciousness of her didi. He expected her to treat the effects of his use of resentful energy and often implied he would harm Wen Ning, who’s younger than A-Sang!

She started to detail some of his terrible experiments, and Lan Qiren insisted the content was not appropriate for children, which apparently includes me, and we were made to leave. When she returns to the family area following each day, she looks worn enough to be an adult, and yet she is only our age.

The discussion conference has shifted away from whether Jiang Wuxian is responsible for Wen-zongzhu’s death, which seems to be a relief for the Jiangs. From what I’ve heard, the consensus seems to be that he caused his own death through dabbling with demonic cultivation and hubris. We hear a little through the servants, who report to Jiang Yanli what they can.

The last few days, A-Sang and I have been cloistered with the Jiangs and your brother during the day. When you wrote me about the bond Jiang Wuxian has with your brother, I found it hard to believe, but seeing them together I can see why you’re certain they were destined to meet. The boy is bright, if often confused by his loss of memory, and has a weird way of drawing people in, almost eerie but not in a threatening way. When he first met me, he asked where my mustache was and then passed out, and remembered none of it when he woke. I’m given to understand something similar happened when he met A-Die. It must be somewhat terrifying to not know what of your memory you can trust, but he seems to try to think positively, which I suppose is really his only viable option.

Jiang Wanyin reminds me of Wangji in his biting stage, but with words, with a temper like his mother, very protective of his siblings. He’s frustrated with not being allowed to attend the discussion conference, but it comes out of worry for his brother. I’d not heard Jiang Wuxian had a meimei, but the child takes after him in certain mannerisms and clearly adores him, so I suppose she just hadn’t been publicly known of when their parents went missing. It’s their business, and not mine to pry into.

Jiang Yanli has a way of calming Jiang Wanyin and keeping the days on a certain pace and trying to keep everyone from climbing the walls. Wen Ning sometimes cries for his jiejie and needs consoling and distraction, and she provides the latter while her siblings provide the former. Even Jiang Lian will tug him over to play with toys when he’s getting upset. A-Sang has found a friend in Jiang Wuxian, who also enjoys painting, and that keeps him at least somewhat distracted. He also enjoys listening in on the Jiangs practicing their instruments, to the extent that I half-expect him to want to learn himself.

She seems to have taken over some of her niang’s duties for the duration of the discussion conference, including organizing the servants and attending to household matters, but with the added burden of recent events it is quite a lot. She has the help of a woman named Meng Shi, whose son Meng Yao is also cloistered, as well as a young lady named Mo Yun and her infant son. They’re the ones Jin Guangshan demanded, and it’s pretty clear why, but they’re understandably nervous about his demands.

Wangji is quite well, but very distracted by Jiang Wuxian, who had a fever while he was unconscious. I’m no longer surprised by their betrothal, given their closeness. He seems content to let Jiang Wuxian yammer on about whatever he’s thinking about at any given time (seriously the boy never stops talking), and he’s actually listening because he’ll occasionally respond. I’ve never heard him speak so much as he does to Jiang Wuxian.

It is difficult not to be bored. The furor about Jiang Wuxian has died down, thankfully, and we’re just waiting for the conference to end. It’d be one thing if there were tournaments, but it’s definitely not the typical discussion conference. They’ve got the family area locked down with regular patrols by senior disciples, even, after the attempt on Jiang Wuxian.

Not that I expected it to be the typical discussion conference with what’s happened, but I also didn’t think I wouldn’t be allowed to attend—not that I want to hear about Wen Ruohan’s resentful energy experiments any further than I have, as what has been trickling in to Jiang Yanli has been unsettling and there is much the servants won’t tell us. It’s already bad enough that we’re not relaying any of it to the younger ones, and poor Wen Qing’s exhaustion is understandable if she’s been forced to watch much of it. I gather Wen-zongzhu felt it constituted medical training for her to be present, so no wonder she grabbed at the opportunity for her entire family to flee from the Wen sect.

As much as the discussion conference started with accusations against Jiang Wuxian, I’m of the opinion that, had Wen Ruohan lived, a war would have been inevitable; either he would have gone mad from wielding resentful energy, or he would have sought more power, or perhaps both. That he was killed basically attacking the boy should have made it clear he caused his own demise, but some among the gentry need an even clearer indication he is a villain somehow—I’ve made note personally of those who would excuse an attack on an ill child, as I don’t think they should be trusted, and I will share them if you wish, but not on paper. I think your uncle will be largely concerned with the disposition of whatever artifact Wen Ruohan was using, which I’m sure some in the Wen sect would like to keep, if it is to be found.

I don’t know if I’ll still be in Lotus Cove for you to reply, but I’m stuck here until the discussion conference ends. I wish you were here but also you’re better off not being here. At least Meng Yao is a decent conversationalist, and Jiang Yanli and Wen Qing (when she’s available) are also good to talk with about cultivation, for all that they’re focusing on healing. I just wish I could do some training, but I suppose I’ll have to settle for meditating with Baxia instead.

Hopefully the rest of the conference goes quickly. Maybe after I can convince A-Die to visit Gusu somehow.

Mingjue

—————

Mingjue,

I very much appreciate your letter, as I’ve been nearly frantic for news; were it up to me, I would indeed be there with you all and glad for it—it’s so difficult to be so far away from my didi during such a fraught time.

I have seen Yu-furen in action, so I am not surprised you admire her, and I find her admirable as well. I find Jiang-zongzhu similarly so, his approach to his children and sect different from the Lan. I don’t know if I told you, but we stayed for quite some time when Jiang Wuxian was first injured, and our time there was an experience I learned much from, something you might also discover.

I’m glad you’re with the Jiangs instead of at the conference directly, if I’m at all honest, since I heard there was at least one attempt on Jiang Wuxian’s life and I fully expect Wangji would throw himself between him and any threat, an assessment with which I’m certain you will agree. The news that Jiang Wuxian is less of a focus now that something worse has been revealed about Wen Ruohan is welcome, but I also wonder how the Wen delegations are handling the news, whether they are still defending their late sect leader.

Honestly, even if it was borne of Jiang Wuxian’s confusion, you would look very mature with a mustache; I know it bothers you that disciples sometimes see you as a child, and that could potentially help?

Jiang Wuxian hides much of his frustration with his memory, but he has a very positive personality and bounces back quickly. He has had several terrifying nightmares, both at Lotus Cove and the Cloud Recesses, and I know he has worried that some of what he dreams is from memory, that his memories hide something terrible, but from what others have said he has always been positive since he first came to Lotus Cove, and surely he wouldn’t have been if his memories so tormented him.

I didn’t know what to make of the Jiang family dynamic when I first arrived at Lotus Cove, but I think your assessment of Jiang Wanyin is accurate, and you have clearly seen Jiang Yanli’s fortitude and determination. I’m glad she has been gathering information from servants, but it’s disturbing that there are things Wen Qing is testifying about that they find too terrible to relate—Shufu and the Jiangs certainly have their hands full!

Jiang Lian has a similar disposition to Jiang Wuxian and absolutely adores him. I’m sure you’ve found that she’s inquisitive and curious about nearly everything. She wants to learn the dizi, konghou, guqin, and xiao—basically every instrument she’s seen played. I understand she’s inherited Jiang Yanli’s practice konghou, so perhaps she’ll start with that.

Musical cultivation might be a viable option for Huaisang, if he does become that interested. It may not be the Nie cultivation style, but at least he’d be cultivating? I know it bothers you that he doesn’t cultivate at all. Jiang Yanli did not have the health for traditional cultivation, but she’s decided she can still work on other forms, like musical and medical. It may be worth consideration. I’m glad to hear that your didi and Jiang Wuxian get along—you might find that Huaisang is influenced positively by him as well. If nothing else, it would be nice to see this generation grow stronger together by building good ties.

I only met Meng Shi and her son fleetingly, as the Jiangs took them in while we were there, along with Mo-guniang and her son, and both were taken from unpleasant situations and given new lives by the Jiangs. I’m glad you’re speaking with Meng Yao—apparently he was never given proper books on cultivation, only incorrect manuals his mother could find, so I know he likely appreciates your conversation very much. Hopefully Jin-zongzhu accepts the denial.

Wangji is more expressive than he has been since Muqin died, and it’s all thanks to Jiang Wuxian. He seems to just interact more with the world since they met again at Lotus Cove—Jiang Wuxian even helped him forge friendships with his peers. While cutsleeve marriages are unusual, in this case I believe their connection could easily blossom into romance, making their union that much stronger. I’m glad you see it too.

I have not had opportunity to meet Wen Qing or her brother, and I dread to think of the impact Wen Ruohan’s experiments with demonic cultivation had on them, particularly with the impact on young Wen Ning’s spiritual cognition. As an older sibling I’m certain she must have been terrified for her didi’s safety and well-being. Lotus Cove is a good place for her and her family to go, as the Jiangs are certain to treat them kindly. They’ve shown willingness to “take in strays” as others might say derisively, but I think rather it’s that when a Jiang decides you’re clan, that’s what you become.

I’m relieved that it’s boring for you, as cruel as it may be, because a lack of furor means safety. If the focus can remain on the apparent crimes of Wen Ruohan instead of Jiang Wuxian, I know it will also relieve Jiang Yanli and Wangji, and lead to less tension in general.

You are probably right regarding the potential for war in the future had Wen Ruohan lived. There is no shortage of historical examples of the way resentful energy taints the minds of demonic cultivators, and those who seek to gain power by resorting to that path tend toward megalomania anyway. Why else would anyone abandon the wide path after having cultivated to become as strong as Wen Ruohan? That our generation could have seen a war on that scale is sobering, and imagining Wangji ever having to experience such is sickening. I’m sure you feel similarly about Huaisang.

Hopefully that possibility has been averted, but you’re right that it depends on the disposition of the Yin artifact. I daresay keeping an eye on the situation isn’t unwarranted, including regarding the sect leaders who tried to excuse what was done to Jiang Wuxian. I know there’s a precept about gossip, but in this case I don’t believe it is such, given the possible ramifications to our siblings. Jiang Yanli and Wen Qing might like to be included, as they are also older siblings and more people paying attention is a good thing.

I’m certain the Jiangs will forward my letter to the Unclean Realm if you have departed. I think even if you don’t intend to become a healer, you may learn things from discussing cultivation with Jiang Yanli and Wen Qing that can be applied to other branches of cultivation. Even if there isn’t, there’s nothing wrong with pursuing knowledge for the sake of it.

I hope you get to come here. It would be very nice to see you.

Xichen

—————

So since Nie-zongzhu isn’t getting killed by Wen Ruohan, Nie Mingjue has no reason to hate the Wen clan specifically. And also has time to be a kid, to a certain extent. This means also that there can be an older sibling brigade. Pity the fool who hurts a didi.

I’ve started supplements for my osteoarthritis this week and it seems to be helping. Visiting friends and resting. Had a decent holiday, though overdid it a bit and my body let me know. Visiting friends and having a good time.

I’m okay. Just working on accepting that my job is to heal and rest and recover. I’m applying for disability because it’s been a year and I’m realizing it took time to get this bad and will take time to get better.

I wrote about 47k words of fanfiction in 2023, so I at least was able to do that. Hopefully 2024 will bring more energy and brainpower to write.

Glossary:

a-die = dad

didi = younger brother

furen = madam

jiejie = older sister

muqin = mother

shufu = uncle

zongzhu = sect leader

[astrxlfinale]

Why can it never be truly placed? Where each movement, appropriate jab to the fleeting style of her voice sitting on the crevice of monotony to lively glimmers just-- brought something back.

An experience gained but never truly happened all the same. It fell upon that border that likely danced a fine line between the mortal realm and Aeonic realities.

Nonetheless would he grip that sensation with a spiritual hand, steel clad in the way it's held.

Caelus would watch as her figure danced with grace that seems to detach from this land fashioned by dreams. Coasting by reality, delving to that hidden beyond as ivory and briefly dashes with violet fury, a decisive fate runs red amidst the applause of sparking limbs cleaved. Even as the cascading rain of glass fell all around them, seamlessly devoured by his aura imposed by The Destruction, it'd be that amused thought that's noted by Acheron that makes his nostrils immediately flare. A tinge of disbelief at that damnably cocky note she made.

"Get real. ...." An amused scoff follows, a hidden history of camaraderie momentarily flourishing. "Penacony has been a little lacking in entertainment. If I'm bringing along some company, naturally I'm going to pick up that slack twofold wit'cha." He adds in. Could what they share be an illustrious and envied 'meal' for what crawls from the shadows? A bastardization in many degrees from snazzy figures and automatons purposed to bring a dazzling gleam. What veils them like twisted shawls was a need to drag any and all into their nightmares.

To tear souls from bodies.

Just as another figure ripped from the shadows, a violet die being cast with their foul face, the path that Caelus blazes would burn gold as he's immediately by her side. A cerulean current dances by his side, an apt swing of that infamous bat solidified their entire being to a fate of being atomized, well before that burst of remnant energy crashed into a nearby wall. That would be the provocation that introduced a swath of the Dreamjolts. Hints of that crystalized violet, raging and volatile emotions clinging to their figures as a pale light sighs into their surroundings as they remain back to back.

"Manage. Be a little more honest, all these 'What ifs' are getting a touch more motivated. Come what may."

Infuriated by the promise of a future that nightmares could never claim, it lead the horde to immediately jumped them in a singular swoop of motion.

"We'll be having our time out here!"

Gnashing reptilian teeth, sound waves, to dream charged bombs of glass soda bottles being launched as missiles, for anyone else this fate would look perilous. Yet, what hums contently within the Trailblazer is a leveled calm that bonds seamlessly with his ferocity. One hand would lash out, snagging one of those bottles before violently changing it's course, using the abrupt momentum to uppercut the cooking reptile intending to take a bite out of his companion. Fizzy determination would rocket him skyward, leading to a Shoryuken-esque uppercut that sent it barreling at supersonic speeds to some airborne opponents.

Only then would he alter course, allowing his bat to viciously swat away some surrounding blasts, the altered course of a freefall charging that excitement as they'd become blurs upon the battlefield. Amidst this whole debacle, he still kept an eagle eye on Acheron's performance.

"How about you stop holding back a little bit! Since when were you a sweetheart to your enemies!?" As if he could talk right now!

Basking in the chaotic dance of combat by the Galaxy Ranger's side also felt so blissfully, painfully familiar.

@iceiclehorned from X

[burntoutrenfeldemic]

Hello and Welcome~

Greetings! I've been lurking for a while now. Why not introduce myself?

Seems like you've stumbled upon my devotional blog, dedicated to my journey with my spiritualism and relationship with the ever radiant gods of this world beyond.

Bio:

Name: Colly "Dellas" Renfield

Agender , It/They/He

Self Proclaimed Magnificent Bastard

Currently, I actively worship our Ever Gentle Lord of Peaceful Death Lord Thanatos and our Ever Quiet Embrace of Sleep Lord Hypnos. Passively, Lady Athene is important to my life as an artist/academic and Lord Apollon and Lady Artemis has always been in my life in one way or another.

I am very new in my worship and learn a new thing every day, but who doesn't?

Blessed be the deathless Theoi, Praise be the Titans!

[will-o-the-witch]

Question: How are spirits closed? Do they request/agree to being only interacted with by people in a certain culture/practice/whatever?

It's been confusing me. Even if humans consider it closed, the spirit gets the final say, right? If they choose to accept the interactions then isn't it okay?

For a vague non-specific example, X is a spiritual entity from Religion Z, a closed religion, but Human who is not initiated into or generally hasn't been accepted into Religion Z reaches out to X. X goes to Human and agrees to work with them and/or is okay with their worship or honoring of them. Human is generally not too looked up to for taking something from Religion Z without any of the believers permission despite X directly saying it's okay to Human. Could this situation hypothetically happen? There'd be likely no good way to prove X actually was okay just taking the person's word, but it still was given the green light, just not by people.

Sorry if I come off rude, I've been scared to ask someone and I'm just very confused about this. Of course I wouldn't ever try, I'm confused by appropriation and it's difference with appreciation and whatnot so I just avoid it altogether but actually asking should give me some decent ideas and I can't just keep myself ignorant with this stuck on my mind. Thanks and sorry if this is an uncomfortable type of ask you don't have to answer if you don't want ♥︎

Hello!

You pointed out one of the big issues in your question- how do you know X said anything about it? We can't even really prove X exists, and our experiences are completely personal and subjective. Human saying "X told me it was okay" doesn't exonerate them; it says "Sorry Religion Z, I just understand X better than you do and I'm taking their (non-verifiable, filtered through my own mind) word over yours."

Even before X "weighs in," though, Human has already crossed the line. Closed traditions are closed for a reason (precise reason will vary) and these boundaries need to be respected. We are often very marginalized people who have to fiercely protect our cultural traditions from either getting completely eradicated or bastardized/commodified/watered down into nothingness. That's why cultural appropriation is an issue to begin with (and it DOES have a real negayive impact.) In this scenario, Human has decided their personal, subjective spirituality is more valuable than respecting Religion Z. Human has shown they feel entitled to aspects of Z, despite having little to no connection with the culture and not going through the proper channels to educate oneself. By saying "X told me it was okay," they're also saying they recognize it's a problem, but would rather ignore these marginalized voices in favor of their personal, subjective, cultutally-disconnected interpretation of this entity that just so happens to tell them exactly what they want to hear. Human has demonstrated they are more concerned with "keeping up appearances" than actual justice and respect for the PEOPLE of Z. It was never about X to begin with.

APPRECIATION is 100% totally fine! Human can totally think X is cool, learn about X from reliable sources, talk about X, feel motivated/inspired by aspects of X, that's all welcome and fine. The problem comes when Human feels entitled to actually work with X and effectively claim them as their own, violating these cultural boundaries.

[skaldish]

hey i cant remember your DID blog, im sorry, idm if you answer over there if you tag me.

to start with, i have professionally diagnosed DID and have been dx'd 3 separate times, and i have something i guess i want validation for?

since i was itty bitty i was reading greek mythology, like children's versions (i could read very early - "gifted" kid) at 3-5 and it has always very much been a huge running theme in my life, well i have a lot of religious greek alters.

it makes sense that.. reading about these figures, watching movies like disneys Hercules and stuff especially while experiencing consistent trauma that i would develop these alters with my brain viewing them as powerful and comforting?

and as an adult i have developed a bit of spirituality with them, a deeply, deeply personal relationship and devotion to deific alters formed to protect and care for me

i recently had a whole issue with a friend who told me my perception of the gods were "wrong" and that they could communicate with them for me. that the gods could only visit one person at a time. and it fucked me up so bad even though i knew they were wrong. they traumatized my whole system

because the things i communicate with aren't just the gods, they dont even claim to be the real gods nor speak for them, just "real to the andromeda system". no one can communicate with my version of them because they are *alters* and my perception is based in trauma and my needs at the time of formation

i feel fakey and i generally avoid even mentioning the religious alters to therapists because i dont want to come across as attention seeking. my experience is valid right?

in terms of clarsenses.. maybe thats a part of it too? idk but these guys are inherently different from say. the spirit of the trees. idk its complicated, they can front and care for me and have a place in my headspace. i notice i get some gifts like i asked hermes to help us get the car we wanted since ours is breaking, and we're getting an even better version. i dont understand fully, i just know my experience is different and deeply personal and relevant to my trauma and DID.

last thing; i do have other alters unrelated to the greek pantheon that interact with them in the headspace. ones that are more "normal" i guess like child alters and trauma holders/persecuters and regular protectors (many of the greek ones are protecters/caregivers/managers. a small few hold trauma - like Hera holds the trauma i witnessed my mom go thru and she is a caregiver. some front. some are internal.) i guess im seeking an explanation from someone in a similar position? in terms of being spiritual with a dissociative disorder. especially considering i do feel like i receive gifts from them in the real world im just confused about myself and experiences which feel incredibly complex. it feels like my experiences go hand in hand with each other!

I'll say what I always say in these situations:

It's not a question of "valid" or "invalid," it's a question of what something is. Our feelings are always valid, but that has nothing to do with whether we're accurately interpreting them or not. Discernment is what's important, and as frustrating as it is, no one can really do that work other than you.

I can't even offer much in the way of perspective, to be honest. Despite the fact you and I are in similar positions, my experiences with dissociation and clairsenses are totally different. None of my alters take the form of deities, for one thing, but I've also never had trouble differentiating my alters from deities.

My advice would be to just give it time. Spiritual exploration is full of heavy lifting, and it's something we just work our way through over the course of time.

(Also my brain blog is @prefrontal-bastard, if you ever have questions in the future.)

[chronichlesofnillory]

Copal resin is something seen in many incense sticks or herbal smoke cleansing sticks. On a whim I decided to look up the history of copal in magical practices today and thus far into my research I have no idea how it has permeated so commonly in most people's practices outside of the realms of something akin to appropriation.

The only mention I saw that wasn't talking about the intrinsic relationship Mesoamerican peoples had with copal mentioned it was a cheaper alternative to some other common incenses both in color and scent (the article mentioned frankincense and myrrh specifically but I have no idea how true that is). All the other non-magical sites and papers I've been reading talk about the deep connections many Mesoamerican cultures such as the Aztec (just to name one specifically) had with copal. How it was seen as sustenance for the gods and spirits and as "blood of the trees."

And it got me thinking:

How many things that are common in our magical practices are just older forms of "appropriation" by cultures that colonizers genocided so they aren't here to stand up for themselves? Or there are so few of them left that no one is listening?

Speaking only for myself, idk how to feel about that. There's all these posts about "you're going to realize some place into your practice that you've taken from where you shouldn't and done things you shouldn't have" but damn this isn't even something I use it's just something I see everywhere.

I felt the same way when I learned that chakras are so bastardized from their original intention that I simply shrug when people talk about realigning their chakras. Or how sound bowls marketed as ancient Tibetan cleansing methods are basically just inventions marketed towards tourists. That so much we've woven into our spirituality and magic is just the end result of a telephone game.

This article does a good job of explaining some of my feelings.

"found that one of the most helpful ways to understand the bridge between ancient and contemporary copal practices is to recognize processes of transculturation. “Transculturation recognizes that although subjugated peoples cannot readily control what emanates from the dominant culture, they do determine to varying extents what they absorb into their own and what they use it for” (The Oxford Encyclopedia of Mesoamerican Cultures). This term acknowledges the agency and adaptive skills of Indigenous peoples in maintaining a connection to their heritage more than the term “syncretism,” which imagines a more passive role of the colonized."