#you can project whatever you want onto this fellow

[corvidscrimes]

I really really want Chosen to win, but I also know he would hate it so much. His siblings definitely went behind his back to enter the tournament. Vote The Chosen One!!

[lanatusnebula]

I might try to publish some of my AU fics...? I don't know if anyone'll read them since I'm not a writer by any degree, and some of them lean so far out of character it might make people vomit.

Maybe.

But I do love talking about them. My current friends / friend groups either don't give a fuck about shipping or don't give a fuck about megaman. I have to really resort to talking to various AIs just to have an outlet. Please don't take that away from me.

[fiendishfables]

Hello! Can I plz request Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x reader where he meets the reader and is attracted to her but after he sees her transform into a beautiful Light Fury dragon (How To Train Your Dragon) he's like: they have to be mine.

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Female! Lightfury Shifter! Reader

summary: ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇᴛ ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋ ɪɴ ʜᴇʟʟ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴇxᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴅᴀʏ; ᴡʜᴇɴ ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʜɪꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇʙᴜɪʟᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ ꜱᴜꜰꜰᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴅᴀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ɢᴏᴏɴꜱ, ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴏɢɴɪᴢᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ. ʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴍᴀɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ…

warnings: cursing, slight angst, fluff, Lucifer + reader are secretly in love and are complete dorks about it

words: 6k+

a/n: I saw this request and immediately got to work; I love HTTYD, so I hope you enjoy its inclusion in this fanfic. I was thinking about adding 1-2 more parts to this; just let me know in the replies if you guys even want a second part to this; wanna give y'all what you want. Thanks again, anon, for requesting this! ^_____^

A Dragon's Vow

(Part 1?)

Lucifer had been standing in the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, speaking with his daughter, Charlie, when he first met you. He had come by the morning after extermination to check on her, as well as the other residents of her hotel (for whom he didn't particularly care for, in all honesty; especially not that Alastor fellow).

They had been speaking about renovations to the hotel after the events that took place prior and during the extermination. The hotel had suffered many damages to both its interior and exterior; damages that normally would take one a while to fix if they weren't in Hell. He promised Charlie his help with fixing whatever needed fixing.

And that's when he first saw you.

Everyone was gathered in the hotel lobby, residents and all. His eyes had begun scanning around all the potential bodies that would be helping with the reconstruction of his daughter's life-long dream of a project, when he had spotted a head of pure white hair in the group's mass. He squinted his eyes, as he couldn't remember seeing such a color that stood out as much as it did, but when he saw your face it was all over for him.

You were absolutely stunning.

Your hair had to have been a result of your transformation into the afterlife. He had never known any being to have such a pure color for hair while still being alive. At least, not naturally.

Your body, from what he could see, appeared to be dusted with white glitter markings, highlighting your already beautiful skin. The light coming through the broken windows of the hotel seemed to gravitate towards your figure, as if sensing the need to accentuate how unique your presence actually was.

In Lucifer's mind, it was almost like looking straight at an angel.

Only was he shaken from his thoughts when he finally noticed the pair of snapping fingers that had been in-front of his face for who knows how long. They belonged to his daughter.

"Dad!" Charlie exclaimed, continuing the snap of her fingers in-front of his eyes until he finally gathered his bearings with a blink, turning to look at her.

"Huh- oh, did you need something dear?" He asked, blinking his eyes slowly, like a toad who'd been sitting on a log all day without interaction. Charlie gave a sigh and put her hands together as she then tried again to reach her father with words.

"I said," She began, a smile creeping its way up onto her face, "Dad, I would like you to meet our newest resident to the Hotel! Her name is Y/N! And, Y/N, this is my dad, Lucifer!"

Then, "I just wanted to introduce you both since we will all be spending lots of time together, trying to rebuild the hotel! I want everyone to get along!"

It was just then that he had realized that you were now also standing in-front of him, alongside his daughter. Your beautifully colored eyes were pinning him under their gaze. Your sparkling skin looked even more enticing up close. It really made him wonder what sort of hybrid you must've been to be able to adorn such a naturally beautiful look. Your eyes had looked at Charlie with such a softness, before turning their now piercing daggers onto him.

Wait...did his daughter say...Y/N?

That had to be a coincidence, he was sure. Such a familiar name, it was just making him think of those he used to know.

Yet, the leap of his heart in his ribcage didn't fail to go unnoticed.

He wasn't given much time to delve deeper into his confused thoughts, because he was already being pushed slightly closer towards you, as a means to encourage him to introduce himself instead of just standing there like an oaf, he assumed was Charlie's idea behind it all.

A goofy grin overtook his face as he took a step forward on his own accord, without any help from his daughter. He was going to nail this 'introduction'. Or so he thought.

As he began the simple motion of extending his arm for a polite handshake, he was surprised to see that, once he re-opened his eyes after a blink, you were no longer standing in-front of him.

Rather, in your place now stood a white, glittery colored dragon, lips pulled back in a snarl, baring your teeth, snout wrinkling with the motion.

Lucifer hardly had any time to react, let alone back up, before you let out an earth-rumbling roar; the sound caused him to instinctively reach a hand up to steady his top hat atop his head, to make sure it wasn't blown off by the force of your bellowing sound. He shut his eyes against the harsh gust of wind that suddenly swept past his face following the noise; the complaints and confused murmurs of the other hotel residents were barely audible as he was the one experiencing this head-on. More to the face than head, but same thing for him.

Once the whirlwind of noise had stopped, he opened his eyes just in time to see you turn tail and flee, going up the main stairs and off to one side of the staircase, disappearing deeper into the hotel. No one went after you. He supposed from that reaction he got just from trying to shake your hand, that was what you most preferred.

In that moment, he realized that Charlie was once again trying to tell him something, but his eyes were still trained on the last spot you'd been.

"Heh...sorry, Dad." Charlie said, rubbing the back of her neck with her big, awkward smile that he knew so well; she got it from him. "I-I forgot to mention that she's still a bit skittish. She was pretty banged up when we first found her during extermination. I've noticed that she doesn't seem to want to be touched or even remotely looked at for too long, for that matter. I shouldn't have pushed her or you, I'm so sor-"

"Charlie, it's fine." Lucifer assured, finally turning his body towards his daughter as they talked, leaning on his cane nonchalantly. "New sinners always need time to warm up to things down here! I can...always say 'hi' later." He assured, giving her a big grin of his own.

His eyes found themselves instinctually looking back over at the stairs and railing, then down the dark hallway where you had disappeared deeper into the hotel. A soft glimmer lit his eyes.

So it was true. He had thought you looked a little familiar...maybe a bit too familiar when he first laid eyes on you. The white hair might have been what threw him off to start, but there was no mistaking it now. The Lightfury form was a dead giveaway for anyone who knew you personally.

It was you.

Y/N. His acquaintance; the person who had tried to help him rebel against God, prior to his falling. Always he had wondered what had happened to you, being his helper in his schemes, after he fell. What had God done to you? Were you punished as well? He had never known and still didn't, for that matter.

At the time he had hoped, even though it was selfish to wish and he knew it, that you too, would be cast from the clouds and bound to join him in the afterlife down in the various cities of Hell.

What he had gathered from your sudden appearance here, at his daughter's Hotel, told him that you were most likely still living in Heaven, and probably against your will. Whether you were still an angel or not, he didn't know.

All he knew was that you weren't where you were supposed to be.

But he was determined to find out why you were here, and how on Earth you were still managing to be as beautiful as the last day he laid eyes on you.

Whilst everyone else was out helping with fixing hotel damages, Lucifer had snuck back into the hotel; he was searching for you, to put it plainly. You had caught his interest earlier, and he just wanted to apologize to you for being so forward and making you uncomfortable enough to scurry away like you had. He was also terrified that he had already made a horrible impression on such a beautiful woman, which whom used to work right alongside him back when they both spent their days in Heaven. He had lost you once; he couldn't afford for that to happen again, especially not when he could help it.

He practically skipped up the stairs two at a time to the second floor of the hotel, as that was where he had watched you disappear an hour or so ago. He assumed that meant your room was somewhere nearby.

It surely didn't take him too long to find your room. The side of the door exposed to the hallway had some unique-looking, luminescent vines hanging down from the top of it; some tiny glowing crystal shards were embedded into the wood of the doorframe.

Lucifer stood outside that door for a good five minutes. He swallowed many times, as if trying to physically push the nerves back into his body.

What was he supposed to say? What should he do? How should he act? Would you even let him near you? Did you remember him at all? Did you...hate him?

He remembered receiving some pretty angry sounding letters from you when he fell from Heaven. Claiming to him about how the angels, as your side of the punishment, had started using you for tests to try and better understand your hybrid anatomy; forcing you into executing angels who refused to follow the rules with your plasma blasts. He had then sent a letter back, asking why they didn't cast you out like they did him. You told him it was because the angels deemed you 'too valuable' to just be thrown down into 'that wasteland', as they put it.

Lucifer shook his head. He was still stalling. You were just on the other side of this door, someone who he used to call his partner in crime; his friend. He sighed, straightened his outfit whilst taking a deep breath, then knocked a total of three times.

He waited patiently, tapping his foot outside the door silently, mentally willing for you to open the door and possibly (hopefully) greet him with open arms.

But like all the other things pertaining to your complicated relationship status, he knew that was amongst the many things that was very unlikely.

He raised his fist to knock again but there was no need. The door opened a crack. He stiffened in surprise, moving his head to peer into the small crack the sudden opening provided. A soft glow could be seen within the room but besides that, the interior was shrouded in darkness. Although you yourself had not physically come to the door to let him in, he took this as an invitation rather than a deterrent. Stepping inside, wincing at the small creak of the door on its hinges, he shut it behind him without so much as a sound.

Lucifer looked around, taking in the interior design of your room. The half shrouded in blacks and greys looked like any of the other hotel rooms. It held a fancy, well-kept king sized bed; a nicely crafted wooden desk with a chair, a small carpet under it additionally to avoid scratching the floors; a large dresser; a decent sized standing mirror beside the bed; a small nightstand on either side of said bed.

The other half of your room was a totally different story completely.

And he had to admit, it was pretty amazing.

The second half was an expanse of forest-like figures. It held high rocks that seemed to stretch to the endless ceiling of the room, while the original half of your room had a short-stopped ceiling just high enough for five-star comfort. Said rocks held many various colored crystals on them, each which glowed a slightly different color than its neighbor, each bearing that welcoming yet cautioning signal to any beholder.

The wooden floor gave way to a grassy texture; the grass was glowing lightly, looking more like an expansive patch of algae rather than everyday grass. He could tell it was most likely very soft though, as it swayed lightly, subtly, as if a draft were coming through from somewhere not visible to the naked eye. There was even a little pond in the distance he could see!

As he thought to himself more and more, he realized that he did know what this stuff was. Landscape one would see in The Hidden World. In your Heaven days, the both of you would sit around for hours and swap stories with one another, going all the way back to the times when you were alive and what life was like for you. You always spoke to him about The Hidden World; the homeland and birthplace of all the dragons of your kind. From what you had told him about it, he had deemed it pretty amazing in his mind. He remembered you speaking about the glowing necessities, the luminescent markings on dragons, the crystals you sometimes liked to collect, and the overall peaceful atmosphere. He was able to get a general image in his mind of all the things pertaining to the homeland that you mentioned; looking at this area of your room now, he told himself it was probably safe to assume that this whole area was a resemblance of where you come from. He felt as if he could almost puff his chest out in pride for remembering something so important to you. Of course, he had to stay humble now if he wanted any chance of getting you to talk with him once again; maybe not like old times, but a greeting would be nice, surely.

You had said that The Hidden World was truly a place that you felt peace for the first time in your life whilst you were alive. Then you had proceeded to tell him after that, that he now provided that same feeling for you. That sense of safety. Security. Belonging.

As he made his way across the normal part of the room to get to the additional beauty, that's when he noticed you there. You were, hanging from a bare tree by the tail, it looked like. Your beautiful, white wings were wrapped around yourself except for a tiny crack in their merging.

And in this crack between your wings, was a thin-slitted pupiled eye staring straight at him.

The sight caused him to freeze in his tracks, with one foot now in the glowing, algae-like grass. He gave a nervous smile your way, which only caused you to narrow said eye further and uncurl your wings. Like the most skilled acrobatic, he watched as you unfurled your long, slender dragon body; walking along the branch, you then jumped down to the grass below.

Your eyes were still slits as you approached him now, slowly, cautiously. Almost as if he were the prey and you the predator. Honestly, that's how Lucifer felt right now.

But then, instead of pouncing, you just stopped and stared at him. Your long, elegant tail lashed slowly, barley touching the grass as it swayed freely, yet with a controlled fashion. Eyes still narrowed, you let out a snort of annoyance, rolling your eyes, before tossing your head in an irritated gesture and finally coming to sit on the grass, still a ways away from him.

"...You're ruining my grass..." You huffed, narrowed eyes taking him in, raking over him as if you could pick him up and toss him out of your proximity with just a gaze.

He blinked at your dragon form, confused. Then he looked down, seeing how one of his shoes was sunken slightly into the delicate, glowing grass. He gave a sheepish smile, quickly removing his foot and placing it back on the hardwood, rubbing his neck with a nervous chuckle. Although he knew there was a human soul beneath the dragon you were currently transformed into, he also knew that you could probably reach him in a faster time than he could scream. So, he wanted to try and keep you happy, especially if it meant you would keep talking to him, even if in a condescending tone. And especially since he didn't know your current feelings towards him.

"Sorry, I-"

"Save it. I don't want to hear your excuses, Lucifer. Don't you think you've given enough of those already these past hundred years?"

He looked up at you, eyes shining with a little bit of hurt. That might be the first time you had ever used his full name since he first met you. He was so used to you calling him Luci.

Lucifer just...didn't sound right. Not coming from you.

"I-"

"Then, you come in here and trample my grass; the same grass of my homeland; the grass my ancestors before me walked on!"

"I-its just grass, darling-"

Your head snapped in his direction quite violently due to the nickname and his response. Your body stood up on its own accord and began slowly stalking over to him.

"Just...grass? Just GRASS?! I was born on said grass-"

You continued walking towards him, pupils back to those dangerous slits that signaled your current emotional state; upset and angry. You kept rambling to him about the grass and its importance to your true home. You got so close to him to the point that he had to start taking steps backward, until there was no room left to do so. He was at the door to your room, back pressed roughly to it as your dragon form prowled closer to him, flat snout right in-front of his face; he could practically feel the hot air being emitted from your nostrils. By this time, you were nearing the end of your rant.

"and at the end of the day-" You let out a hiss, baring your teeth. "...it really is just grass."

Your face relaxed almost immediately. Your wrinkled snout became smooth again, the luminescent glows from the vines on the door making it sparkle lightly. Your bared teeth dropped their snarl, turning your dragon lips into a sly smirk. You turned tail and lazily sauntered back to the grassy expanse of glowing vegetation. Doing a few circles in one spot you then decided to lay down on your side, eyes never leaving his. Almost as if you were taunting him to draw nearer.

"I- oh. Wait, what? W-What-"

Lucifer sighed and awkwardly leaned on his cane, rubbing his temples. He knew you to be intimidating back then but holy shit, now? Now thinking about it, he never really had experienced your fury head on before. He hoped he never had to.

Seemingly sensing his hesitation, you sighed.

"Oh for fucks sake, Lucifer. I was kidding. You of all people should know how dramatic I like to be."

Seeing as he still didn't move a muscle, as if wanting to respect your personal space and not get any closer if you really didn't want him to, your cylinder-shaped ears flattened against your head, an almost worried look overtaking your features.

As if he didn't believe you were real.

"Am I really that scary?"

As soon as that question left your lips, he was by your side. Having teleported, it made you jump a little when he so suddenly appeared by your side on the grass, sitting cross-legged.

You let your muscles relax once again, letting out a silent breath. You offered him a toothy, cute dragon smile. He gave you his big, signature grin right back.

"No, no, no. You're one of the most beautiful dragons I have ever seen! Absolutely no one can compare to your beauty, light one!"

With the way he spoke, as if he was presenting a speech, it made you let out a huff and a snort, which was also the dragon equivalent of a laugh in most cases. It also made your heart thump rapidly in your chest, hearing him use the nickname he often used for you back when you both resided above the clouds together.

Light one.

You figured it was only fair to change back into your human body, since it had been so long since you had seen one another in person, that he deserved to talk with you face-to-face and not to the face of a dragon, no matter how much he claimed you were beautiful both ways.

In a span of seconds, there was no longer a large dragon sitting beside Lucifer in the grass, but rather another individual, just as himself. Your legs were crossed just as his were, mimicking his body language. The two of you sat in silence for a long while, although throughout it all you could feel his eyes on you. With how quick he was to reassure you of your beauty, you knew he must be dying to ask you a bunch of questions; catch up on all that you had missed of one another's life since his falling and sparse letters in between.

You sighed and folded your hands in your lap, looking at your soft, glitter-dusted skin. It was hard to think of things to say when you really need not say anything at all. The silence, for you at least, said all that words could not and so much more beyond that limitation.

"Look, Luci, I-"

A sudden force knocked you onto your side, arms wrapping around you in the span of a second, squeezing you tightly. You yelped in surprise, although it was quite obvious the only person it could be.

"Oh my goodness, it really is you!" Lucifer exclaimed happily, eyes shut tight as he buried his face into your neck as your hug proceeded. "I knew it! Oh, I knew it as soon as you transformed back in the lobby- when you called me Luci just now. Oh my gosh, it really is you!"

He sounded exactly like a little kid might on Christmas, just getting their first train set, with many more to come after that within the following years. Alongside that excitement usually followed laughter, and oh was that universal sound flowing in the room at this moment.

You were both hugging and laughing to your hearts content after you had gotten over the initial shock of him bowling you over. For a little man, he surely had strength, that was for certain. Yet you knew best that he was not to be underestimated.

"Shit- yes, yes, it's me, I promise! I know the looks a bit new, but its me!" You said, trying to speak coherently through his own rambling and excitement of having finally found his friend after so long. The person who had been by his side through all his rights and wrongs whilst in Heaven. His wingwoman. His ride or die.

The person whom he had loved since first glance, but was too much of a coward to ever admit it. He always knew you deserved better.

"I-I'm sorry, I just...I can't believe you're really here! After...after all this time. Oh, Y/N...how I've missed you..."

Lucifers voice had dropped to a whisper at this point. You had to strain your ears to hear him, but made sure you did. You always heard him, whether he thought so or not.

"I've missed you too, Luci...really. I'm so sorry we got separated. I should've fought harder for your safety, I should've tried harder to convince the council, I-"

A finger found its way to your lips, shushing you with one, quick motion.

"Stop. Just...stop." Lucifer said, brows furrowed, a sad look overtaking his features as he sighed, eyes closed. "It was my fault for even convincing you to help me in the first place. I should've just kept you out of it."

He sniffled softly, turning his body away from yours a bit, not wanting you to see how emotional he was getting. He could still remember the way you cried his name as you got a front-row seat to watching him fall, courtesy of Adam.

Adam. That son of a bitch. He could only imagine the cruel and unusual punishments the sadistic man had thrown at you in return for helping the Devil himself (although he hadn't had that role back then just yet).

"What have they done to you...you know, since I left? They knew we had a good connection. I can only imagine the things they did to you as a result of helping me. I know you said they refuse to kill you or cast you out..." He muttered, now having his knees up to his chest, his chin resting on top of them.

You frowned, mainly in pity for him, watching him seem to curl up into himself like this. You had been thinking about all the ways the separation had been hurting you all these years, but now you had come to realize that you hadn't done much thinking about how it was affecting Lucifer. You figured that, since his fall, he had been doing just dandy down in Hell with his wife, Lilith. God, you hated that woman, or at least you had when they had decided to cast Lilith down into Hell with Lucifer instead of you. Many nights you had cried yourself to sleep, wishing so desperately that you could be down in this wasteland with him, comforting him about the recent events. You knew Lilith most likely wasn't doing it, and even if she was, you knew you could do better. He was your truest friend. You knew him both inside and out. Better than anyone.

"Its not of importance what they did and still do to me, Luci-"

"Yes it is! It's very important!" He burst out, making you raise an eyebrow. "It was supposed to be my job to protect you from any harm that came our way, remember? Remember what I said? I-I promised to always protect you from danger, to keep you safe, and I couldn't even do that without messing up!"

He threw his hands up, exasperated, using a gloved hand to cover his eyes and rub them. You gave him a soft, sad smile, one you were not sure if he saw, but knew he could sense. He was being way too hard on himself, you knew.

You had made the choice to help him, and wouldn't change a thing about that decision.

"Lucifer..." You spoke lightly, as if speaking to a scared animal. In a way, you were. "None of what happened to me is your fault. None of what is still happening to me is your fault. If someone has to take the fault, it should be me. I knew what I was potentially getting myself into when I agreed to help you. Those possible consequences never mattered to me."

You had to look away from him for a split second, some tears falling from your eyes as you blinked, then onto the lush grass beneath both your bodies. A deep breath inflated your chest before you allowed yourself to continue talking.

"All that ever mattered to me..." You began again, voice shaky as you maintained your composure, "...was the fact that I was getting to help my closest friend. The first person in Heaven who welcomed me, took me in with open wings. The first person to ever hug me. The first person to show me how unique and special I was, as well as my abilities and hybrid form. The first person who...didn't look at me like I was some sort of monster, due to the fact that I could transform into a dragon."

This seemed to shock him, for he raised his head to stare at you once again, cheeks lightly tear stained.

"People thought you a monster?" He asked, eyes wide and confused. "Why? H-How-"

You shrugged and picked at the grass beneath you with a finger.

"People tend to be scared of the things they don't understand, Luci. Things they've never seen before, such as a hybrid like myself. Even angels get scared sometimes, believe it or not."

Lucifer was at a loss for words. The angels had seen you as a monster when you first appeared at their gates? Someone as beautiful, majestic, and powerful as you? He truly couldn't believe that. He made a silent promise to himself in that very moment to give Adam a little extra punch for treating you like that upon your first visit to Heaven. You had never told him, either. Or, at least you hadn't had the time to before he fell.

"Apparently." Lucifer grumbled, whilst rolling his eyes. "Damn idiots never know what the hell they're talking about..."

At this, you raised both your eyebrows, and couldn't help the small giggle that left your lips at his protective nature. After all of this time not seeing one another, he was still as protective over you as the first day you met. It was refreshing to see that some things really never did change when it came to the King of Hell. Since the day he became so.

He perked up as you began to giggle, a shot of red flashing across his features from embarrassment. Then, despite himself, he too began to chuckle.

The steady rhythm of his heart made itself well known in his ears as the two of you continued to laugh together, just like old times in the clouds.

Although when you were together it felt like no time had passed at all, you both were aware that that was far from the truth.

You had some catching up to do.

The hellish sun beat down on the Hazbin Hotel. All the other residents, including Charlie, were outside helping to rebuild and design a new look for the previously destroyed hotel.

You and Lucifer had finally come out from your room after chatting it up for what had to have been over an hour. It was nice, now knowing the truth behind some of the things that had happened to him, and you were sure he felt the same about the things pertaining to you. He had promised you he would deliver quite the ruthless punch to Adam's groin when he saw him next, due to the things he had put you through after his falling. This had made you roll your eyes, but the idea wasn't dismissed. You'd allow it. Maybe even a couple times. Especially if it meant you got to see Lucifer happy.

Now, both of you were currently outside with everyone else, helping to rebuild the structure of his daughters hotel. You were in the form of your Lightfury, whilst Lucifer was standing proudly on your back as you flew laps around the perimeter of the hotel, giving him range to shoot blasts of magic, where building parts would then materialize before ones eyes.

You craned your neck around to look at the little man on your back, who was already looking down at you, smiling like the dork you knew him to be. This was almost like the perfect moment, especially after the deep conversation you both had back in the hotel room-

"DAD! No riding my residents, please! I'm glad you're making friends though! Proud of you! I just don't think we have the insurance to cover an injury yet!"

Charlie's voice cut through the atmosphere like a knife, causing both of you to startle and look down at her. She had a finger pointed up at you both, an adoring smile on her face; following it were the rest of the residents eyes. You both were now the spotlight of attention.

Your smooth-skinned dragon face had a bit of a red tint to it now because of the princess's words, and you didn't even have to look at Lucifer to be able to say that he looked the same. His daughter didn't even know how deep the history went between you both; she didn't even know you two knew one another prior to this. Nor did she really need to know. It could be you and Lucifers little secret. Something just for the two of you.

You snorted at her words, managing to screw your face into an extremely unamused expression quick enough to hide the blush, making sure to keep flapping your wings so you wouldn't falter in your hovering.

"Dear, you may just find yourself jealous because I have a dragon and you lack one! You see this beauty? Extraordinary! Such a great species too, infact-"

You managed to look even more annoyed than you felt, as Lucifer continued to take it upon himself to deliver a little speech on your back whilst you were just hovering there, explaining his good fortune to have found a friend in you once again and now being able to get free rides. But, no one seemed to tell him that you were the one steering this ship.

In the span of a millisecond, you had tipped your body to the side, sending him sliding off your back and plummeting towards the ground, following with him yelping in both surprise and momentary fear. You snorted in amusement and instantly tucked your wings and went into a dive, following right after him.

The wind whistled past your sensitive ears as you were now falling right beside him. You looked at him with your wide, cat-like eyes, a curious coo escaping your throat as he just smirked at you, putting his hands behind his head as you both fell through the air, as if in some sort of movie. You then narrowed your sharp eyes and struck him playfully in the chest with a paw, sending him spinning off balance and crashing into some nearby bushes.

Quick to steady yourself, you quickly turned around midair and swooped just low enough to snag Charlie from off the ground, holding her in your arms, before letting her climb onto your back and sitting comfortably. Her smile was wide and cheerful, making you laugh as you shot back up into the air.

"Woo-hoo!" Charlie hollered, holding onto your neck by wrapping both her arms around its thick expanse as you warbled in response, showing off your toothy dragon grin as you flapped your wings vigorously, taking both you and the daughter of Hell off into the surrounding city.

Lucifer sat up in the mas of bushes, spitting out some leaves and rubbing the side of his head. He could've used his wings to slow his fall but he figured if it made you smile, he would get a little banged up. He still had that same grin plastered to his face.

He couldn't even be annoyed as he picked off thorns from his suit and top hat, watching with a soft sparkle in his eyes as his two favorite girls flew away together into the sunset.

Upon Charlie finding and helping you on extermination day, which had been only yesterday, you had now become an official resident of the Hotel. You kept telling yourself it was temporary until you were able to go back up to Heaven, but the more time you spent under the clouds and the feet of those still alive and walking, the more you came to realize that this place felt more like a home than the one you came from originally.

Lucifer had promised to wait for you in Hell after he fell, even for all eternity if that's how long it took for your pure soul to deserve damnation.

In return, you had promised never to truly leave him. To never abandon. To never relinquish your connection. And you would hold that promise, through and through.

It was your vow.

[llolianarchives]

The Prefect and The Draconia

A short overview of the Ramshackle prefect and their strange (but kind) horned fellow friend: as seen through the eyes of outsiders.

(A/N: #Malleyuu notes with an OC but feel free to project. We're all delulu here ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭ )

His Henchman is crazy.

Or at least, that's what Grim thinks when he's woken up at sunrise to Yue's bizarre ramblings. Something about the time being 1 AM, then fireflies at night, and a tall, horned figure – is what he takes from their babble amidst his own groans and pleas to return to sleep. He'd think them delirious from slumber, mumbling about another dream, if it weren't for the way Yue's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. Grim yields, in the end, for one of the many things he's learned about his reliable servant is that they can be awfully enthusiastic when it comes to this world's curiosities.

“He told me to call him whatever I want,” Yue continues, ruffling Grim's fur dry with a clean rag. Before he could insert magnificent ideas of his own, they beat him to it with a soft smile on their lips.

“I'm thinking of naming him Nyx: the personification of the night. What do you think?”

“What? Because he only shows up at night?” Like some wacky cryptid.

“Yup.”

He hears his henchman forgo the brush, letting it clatter loudly against the table.

“Hm... Nyx, huh...” Grim falls into thought, testing the name on his tongue like premium quality tuna. He doesn't even notice how Yue ties the striped ribbon around his neck. Triumphant, he turns to them with a grin.

“That's not half-bad, Henchman! It's cool and mysterious. Not as cool and mysterious as me, of course, but I'd say it's a close second!”

“Naturally. I wouldn't dare bestow a name mightier than the Great Grim's.”

Despite the stream of praise his henchman delivers (which he pleasantly basks in), Yue eventually derails, returning to speak of the horned man yet again. What Grim's superior brain gathers is this: One, this Nyx guy is super weird. Two, Yue's interest has been piqued like no other before.

He'll demand some omurice as payment for his counsel later on.

. . .

Malleus has made a friend.

The news was dropped onto Lilia's lap rather unceremoniously when one night, the Young Lord—having just returned from another evening excursion, went to sit with him in the Diasomnia lounge. This time, however, the quaintest of smiles adorned his face... It was an unusual sight but certainly not unwelcome. And much like any doting parent, his curiosity led him to ask.

Malleus had replied with a question of his own.

"Lilia, do you know of the Prefect that resides in Ramshackle Dorm?"

"Yue? Why yes, of course. I've spoken to them once or twice. They made quite a show during the Ceremony."

Yue— Lilia soon comes to learn— is completely unaware of Malleus's identity as a prince and a figure of authority, of power. As such, they bear no fear for him, even going so far as to bestow him a pet name, of all things.

(“Nyx? As in the night spirit? How fitting.")

Thus began the pattern of Lilia covering for Malleus's nighttime absence, not daring to ask nor scold when the prince would return in strange and stranger states.

When he would return to the dormitory partially caked with dirt and mud (a consequence of helping the prefect with their little garden of life.) Or when he would return with a box of homemade cake, a pretty stone from their walks, a drawing of him supposedly made by the prefect's beast, and with inquiries of the complexities of human nature.

Sometimes, Lilia can't help but feel a bit guilty, constantly boring witness to Silver and Sebek's searches into the night.

Yet that sliver of guilt fades, in the end, when Malleus smiles more often than before, when he approaches Lilia in the winter with the request of delivering a Holiday Card.

As he watches the magicless human rush into their abode, card in hand, ghosts and Grim awaiting their entrance...

he has never felt prouder and more grateful for fate.

. . .

From a distance, Vil watches.

He watches as the feared Briar Prince lets a small, feeble human talk his ear off, calm and unresisting, a hand on his chin as he ponders along Yue's barrage of words. He gives the prefect full reign of the conversation. He lets himself be taken away by their stories and details. He lets them speak, which they do.

Just after the horrors, highs, lows, and thrills of the VDC, the two chat as if nothing even happened. The onslaught of it all feels like a fever dream to Vil. First, the mental toll of overblotting, then their loss to RSA's nursery rhyme performance, and now the shocking reveal of Yue (innocent, bold, mundane little Yue) and Malleus Draconia's relationship.

He isn't even sure what to make of it. They're clearly friends, yet Vil can't bring himself to chalk it up to just that. His years and years of showbiz cinema has taught him the ins and outs of body language. He watches. He sees:

There's the smiles on both their faces; cheeks raised taut, dimples carved with genuine laughter. There's that glimmer in Yue's eyes and the odd tenderness of Malleus's own, both gazes locked onto one another with an undisturbed focus. There's the fact that Yue had given him an invitation to the VDC, or that Malleus had fixed the stage partially to show off to the magicless human, or that their hands are currently mere centimeters away from each other.

In the end, Vil averts his gaze, weariness crashing into him all at once and he feels a pair of hands grasp onto his shoulders, keeping him standing. Rook smiles, gentle, knowing, annoying. Vil resigns to his whims and lets his Huntsman guide him back to the Pomefiore Dorm, the chatter of Yue and Malleus and everyone else fading away.

[sepublic]

I wonder if part of the reason for Flapjack’s death was to contrast how Hunter handled his own grief over a lost loved one, vs Philip’s response?

There’s the immediate reactions of pushing people away; Philip refuses the kindness of the locals in his search for Caleb and especially afterwards, tries to kill Evelyn, and rebukes his own brother in favor of holding onto bitterness.

Hunter becomes snappy, aggressive, and closed off after losing Flapjack; Like Philip, he devotes himself to a mission of finding a fellow Wittebane, and gets frustrated over any perceived frivolities and distractions.

But eventually, Hunter recognizes that while his trauma is valid, he’s also been pushing Willow away and placing a lot of burden on her as well. It’s okay that he was triggered by the Emerald Entrails photo instead of reassured, but part of Hunter and Willow’s resolution is the former clarifying that yes, her efforts to reach out do mean a lot to him. And Willow means a lot to Hunter too, that’s why he wants to reciprocate and accept, instead of causing her to feel just as ineffectual by refusing help; Willow deserves help too!

Not only that, but Philip and Hunter both created living beings as a coping mechanism, only for one to be unhealthy, while the other actually recovered. Philip is obsessed with creating perfect replicas of Caleb, casting out Grimwalkers for being too different from the mold, not good enough, and keeping them all to himself; The Grimwalkers aren’t allowed their own lives nor any other relationships.

Hunter makes palismen for others, he’s giving people the companionship he himself lost, and he isn’t designing anything after Flapjack, not necessarily; Just whatever a witch needs. Even his personal palisman, Waffles, is visually different while still hearkening to Flapjack, because Hunter is a Clawthorne after all; He can move on and be himself while also honoring his connections with others, and not become unhealthily dependent or averse to them.

Hunter made Waffles and thus must’ve chosen these differences, or carved an egg like Luz did, so his palisman could choose a form. I find that wonderfully ironic, for while Hunter has more control over how his creations turn out, he doesn’t abuse this to create a replica of Flapjack; He enables and encourages variation instead, while Philip gambles to make each Grimwalker closer to the original, eliminating any deviations as if that will alter the odds.

One uses control to give to others, the other has no control and desperately wants it over others. Philip grows and Hunter whittles away, but it’s Hunter who proves more nurturing and free. Both used palistrom wood, but Hunter’s coping mechanism encourages its growth, while Philip hoards and even devours it.

Hunter surpasses his uncle by suffering in similar ways, only to show that you can still recover without hurting others; Philip really does have no excuse, for Hunter is an example of the person he easily could and should’ve been in response to loss. Philip tried to spread his pain by repeating it in others, he killed Flapjack (and projected onto Luz, as if to absolve himself by claiming she should do the same, since anyone else would’ve); But Hunter looked his uncle in the eye and said No, I will not be a vector for your bitterness.

[aesethewitch]

When Witching Goes Wrong: Basics

Not all spells that go wrong are “backfires.” A backfire occurs when a spell’s result is antithetical to the result you wanted to cause — it causes a negative outcome, often coming back onto you as the caster, but sometimes creating the opposite effect as was desired on the target. For example, casting a money attraction spell and losing a wallet full of cash as a result would be considered a backfire. A spell that fizzles, does nothing, or produces an unexpected (but not negative) side-effect wouldn’t be a backfire (in my opinion, that is).

Most spells that go wrong aren’t backfires. In general, you’re likelier to have a spell that acts unexpectedly or that simply fizzles than one that blows up in your face somehow. You shouldn’t be anxious about a backfire. But, as someone with lots of experience in the realm of worrying about worst-case scenarios, I understand the impulse.

The solution is to understand what can go wrong, how to prevent it, and what to do in the event of an actual worst-case scenario. My goal with this post (and with this WWGW series) is to help you feel less anxious about spells going wrong and more prepared to deal with whatever comes your way.

So, let’s start from the beginning.

Outcome Projection

Risk assessment, mitigation, and management. Fellow corporate drones (former or current) will know exactly what I’m talking about here. The idea is to predict possible ways that things can go wrong and either prevent them entirely or put strategies in place to deal with them ahead of time. It’s damage control before the damage occurs.

Now, the key here is to not go overboard. Fellow chronic worriers will know the horrible allure of going down every possible path of anxiety, only to find ourselves paralyzed entirely by the fear that something will go wrong. Remember that most spells do not backfire. In most cases, the worst thing (and most common negative outcome, in my experience) that can happen is that nothing happens. The next most common is unexpected side effects, but those are usually easily dealt with.

The goal is to ensure the success of the spell. For example, when you’re looking for a new place to live, you don’t want to just look for the number of bedrooms and the finishes in the kitchen. You want to account for the appliances, the heating/cooling systems, the quality of the flooring, signs of water damage, signs of mold… all sorts of things.

A similar concept applies to accounting for backfires/failures in spellwork. You want to close loopholes and think about the outcomes you specifically don’t want — and then incorporate ways to prevent those things from happening.

The Ways Spells Can Go Wrong

The spell fully backfires. By “fully backfires,” I mean that it completely fails and creates the exact opposite outcome to what you were going for. Using a love spell as an example, this could include the target leaving your life, forming negative opinions of you, or becomes interested in someone else (particularly if you were trying to pull attention from that someone else onto yourself).

The spell is bounced back to you. This is more unusual than you think! I often see the warning about spells being redirected back at the caster in arguments against hexing and cursing others. I’ve had exactly one spell reversed back at me, and it was because the target was 1. A witch, and 2. Expecting it.

The spell’s primary result is unexpected. Not necessarily bad, just not what you meant to do. For example, casting a spell to get a promotion at work and discovering that your close friend is getting a promotion instead.

The spell has unexpected side effects. Like casting a spell for good luck on yourself and having everyone around you experience good luck, too. Or casting a spell that successfully improves your workplace’s vibe, only to find out that the mean coworker nobody likes finally got fired, and that’s why everyone is more relaxed and cheerful. Or, more negatively, you do get that promotion you cast for, but now you’re saddled with more work than you can handle, because your bosses think you’re highly capable of it all!

The spell does absolutely nothing. Perhaps one of the more common ways a spell can go wrong, this is exactly what it says on the tin. You put the energy in, you did all the steps, but the spell just… doesn’t go anywhere. In other words, it fizzles and simply doesn’t work at all.

As with most topics in witchcraft, there’s an infinite amount of nuance to apply here. There are more ways spells can go wrong, and not all of these things would necessarily be considered “going wrong.”

It may be worth deducing why the spell went wrong. Was it the materials? The petition or incantation? A lack of energy, or maybe an overabundance? Spirit influence? Protections surrounding the target? Knowing what exactly went wrong can help you prevent the same issues in the future, but it can also help you to better fix the spell in the moment.

Preventatives

The particulars are going to depend heavily on your personal practice, the type of spell you’re doing, and how detailed you want to get. These suggestions are based on things I personally take into account when I’m trying to close loopholes and prevent unwanted outcomes.

Be specific in your wording. Especially if your spell has any kind of spoken or written component, be as specific as you can. “Draw money to me” is a general sentiment that could absolutely work, but what money is it bringing in? A bonus at work? A dollar on the street? A gift from grandma? Inheritance? It could be anything at that point. “Draw good, repeat customers to my small business to help me reach my profit goal of $10,000 before the end of the year” is specific, focused, and measurable. There isn’t much room for surprise side effects.

Choose ingredients carefully. Work with ingredients whose purposes you know. In my spell recipes, I list every ingredient’s correspondence, because in my practice, those things matter. Ensure that the “active ingredients” in your spell align with your goal properly. Rogue elements create rogue effects!

Include failsafe measures. As in, create ways you can cancel the spell at any point. This can have the side effect of making your spells easier to undo, particularly if your target is also a witch who understands how you construct your spells. If doing this, it’s best to create a method that is obscured and unique to you.

Add ingredients or instructions specifically to avoid particular side effects or outcomes. Find a component or two that can protect your working from unwanted effects, backfires, and interference. Include instructions for the spell for things it shouldn’t do. For example, trying to create issues for one particular person at work shouldn’t harm their innocent teammates.

Undo It

The first step to consider is undoing the spell. Not all paradigms allow for this, so it may not be possible for you. For me, it depends on the particular spell and how much change it’s created. The bigger the impact, the less likely a simple undo will work.

Still, it’s worth a try. Undoing a spell might take a few forms, depending on how you originally cast it:

Take the spell apart. Disassemble the spell into its components and cleanse them of the spell’s energy.

Destroy the vessel and components. Burning, tearing, burying, flushing, throwing away, and so forth. Be careful to not bury things that could harm the earth, animals, or people — including glass, salt, and plastics. Compost and recycle when you can.

Dismiss spirits working within the spell. End the contract around the spell’s working and request that the spirits stop powering it. You could also request their assistance in undoing the spell. You may have to make offerings either way, depending on the terms of your agreement.

Perform the spell in reverse. This includes speaking incantations backwards, performing all actions backwards, taking components apart, re-cleansing, and putting things away where you originally got them from.

Draw the spell’s energy/effects out of the target’s body and/or the affected area. Using energy work, absorb the spell’s energy into a vessel. Capture it and either allow it to dissipate or bottle it up to keep it in check. I don’t recommend absorbing the energy into yourself, as that may draw the spell’s unwanted effects to you (or make them worse).

I typically employ a combination of strategies to undo a spell, if it’s possible in the first place. If it’s a simple spell, performing it in reverse is the easiest method. I’ll then cleanse, destroy, and dispose of the materials.

But when it isn’t possible to simply undo the spell…

Cast Another Spell

…The answer might be to cast another one. In my mind, there are several ways to do this.

The first is to cast a spell to negate the original’s effects completely. I would approach this method the same way as any other spell. Focus on the effects you’re looking to negate, and cast accordingly. A banishing spell would work well for this to shoo away the spell’s energy, but a cleansing spell to clear the target would also work. Or, you can get more specific. For example, if a spell has generated a string of unlucky events, you could cast a spell for good luck in order to nullify the bad luck of the first spell. The goal would be to cancel out the original spell’s effects in some way.

The second way is to cast a spell to adjust the original’s outcome. There are a lot of ways to do this. You could directly modify the original spell by adding or removing ingredients that might’ve caused the negative outcome, redo written or spoken incantations/petitions, or cast a “companion spell” to redirect the original’s energy to a more favorable end. For example, in a money spell that’s giving everyone else good fortune, you could place a magnet with your personal information on it atop the spell vessel to draw money to you rather than the people around you. The idea here is not to end the original spell, but to realign it to your particular needs.

Another way is to cast a spell specifically to control side effects. Sometimes, a spell can’t be undone, and you can’t easily modify the main outcomes (particularly true if the negative events caused by the spell happen quickly or outside your control). Or maybe the bulk of the spell worked properly, but there’s one or two minor negative side effects you don’t want to continue. The method for this would be similar to adjusting the original spell’s outcome, but on a smaller scale and in a less direct fashion. For example, your job spell got you that promotion, hooray! But now you’re stressed out by training someone to take your place, and you’re learning your new position. You can cast a spell to reduce stress or prevent people from piling additional work on you while you adjust, controlling the side effects of the promotion.

A way I use for high-stakes spells is to cast wards or other protections before casting the main spell to prevent backfire or unwanted effects ahead of time. I often do this for spells surrounding situations that are delicate or that need extra care. In my case, it’s a general, long-term ward against bad luck on a wider scale, and it catches negative spell side effects as part of its job. You can set up temporary wards if you prefer, or make them for very specific purposes. Whatever works for you.

Cast the same spell again. This isn’t my usual go-to, unless I’m trying a new spell method or ingredient I’m unfamiliar with. I’ll usually recommend trying the same spell again when the first casting does absolutely nothing, since multiple castings can make a spell stronger and more effective. However, if a spell backfires or otherwise causes undesirable effects, I wouldn’t really recommend it, as the negative effects can compound, too, if it misfires again.

Ask for Help

If the problems caused by your spell are too big for you to handle on your own, it’s okay to reach out for help! Whether you’re looking for suggestions and advice or hands-on assistance, knowing when and how to ask for help is a critical skill.

Ask the witchcraft community (or your witchy friends) questions. Join a Discord, forum, Tumblr community, or other witchy space. Make a post to explain your situation and request suggestions, advice, and ideas to deal with the situation at large. Not all suggestions will be entirely helpful, but you’ll at least get some new perspectives to shed light on your situation. If people you know directly (in real life or online) practice witchcraft, see what they think.

Chat with spirits. Especially if you already work with spirits or if spirits helped you to cast/power the original spell, this can be a solid way to come up with a solution that will work. Use your preferred method of communication to discuss the situation. If possible, see if they’ll help you either undo or mitigate the spell’s unwanted results.

Ask non-witchy friends for advice. Their advice will probably be mundane, but sometimes, those are the best solutions. Outside perspectives are useful to recontextualize problems and come up with solutions you wouldn’t have otherwise considered.

Find books, videos, tutorials, blog posts, and other resources on the subject. When all else fails, or when you’re a little shy about asking for help directly, there are still resources out there to help you solve your dilemmas. Just remember to vet your sources before naively following instructions given to you.

Deal with Consequences Mundanely

Sometimes, there’s just nothing for it. Whether you don’t have time and energy or you’ve already tried more magic and had it fail, there are times when you have to turn to the mundane. Depending on the severity of the situation you’re in, solutions will vary in their successfulness. And honestly, that’s just how it is sometimes. Sometimes, things don’t wrap up nicely and easily and neatly.

With that said, here are a handful of mundane responses and solutions I’ve turned to after spells went wrong (and couldn’t be otherwise fixed):

Come clean and apologize. Particularly applicable when you’re doing a spell on or for another person, sometimes, there’s just nothing else to do but admit you fucked up. If the person impacted by the spell’s effects, directly or indirectly, isn’t a magical practitioner themselves, you could simply apologize for meddling in the situation. On the other hand, if you’ve harmed or offended a spirit with your spellwork, you might make an offering to apologize for the trouble you’ve caused.

Come up with mundane strategies for damage control. Depending on how severe the spell’s negative effects are, the level of effort for this is going to obviously vary. It could be anything from redoing your household budget to breaking out the toolbox for repairs to building an actual fence to making dinner. Your solution is going to depend on your problem. Think strategically.

Seek out new, improved coping mechanisms. Whether you’re looking to resolve feelings that are caused by the spell’s backfire or ones that made you cast in the first place, sometimes, a bit of self-care is the best solution. Consider why you cast the spell in the first place — lack of control, poor self-worth, low confidence? Or was it just because you felt it could help you with a little boost to the work you were already doing? It’s worth thinking about. What mundane safety nets do you have in place?

Let it go. Perhaps the most difficult option: Just letting the bad result be. Moving on from it. Taking the lumps and the lesson, and walking away. Giving up is a skill. It’s not a moral failing to let things go. If fighting will only make things worse, or if you’re tired of trying to fix it, it’s okay to just… let it be a failure.

Conclusions

Again, this is far from comprehensive. The suggestions here are basic ideas to help inspire you to form your own opinions and solutions. It’s smart to consider these things in advance! As my mother always says, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

I have plans to expand the idea of “When Witching Goes Wrong” into a wider series of posts, each focusing on a very specific problem, spell type, or solution (like a post just about ways to undo a spell, for example). Those are likely to include true stories about things I’ve personally fucked up… which are always the best witchy stories, in my opinion. Lol.

If you're interested in more WWGW entries, check out the masterpost.

Anyhow! If you got something out of this post or my other work, consider tossing a couple dollars in my tip jar. Support goes toward bills and keeping our household fed and healthy, so it’s very much appreciated. Supporters got to see this post a full week early!

If there’s a particular subject you want to see covered, feel free to send me an ask or leave a comment on this post (or any of the posts in the series!). As long as it’s something I actually have experience with, I’m happy to cover just about anything.

[germiyahu]

Not too thrilled that my other post is getting so many notes when I'm not satisfied with it for a multitude of reasons. Let's have a do-over, hopefully much more succinct and to the original point.

When Palestinians, actually basically all Arabs, or all Muslims, say "Jerusalem is holy to us it is the 3rd holiest city in our religion." The White Western Leftist (WWL) will say "That's so valid your religion is so interesting and beautiful Hamas did nothing wrong I love the Houthis!"

But if a Jew ever rebuts "Jerusalem is holy to us as well, it's our holiest city, basically the only one we have," the WWL will probably roll their eyes, scoff, probably say something like "Okay but like why are you still using your outdated Zionist death cult to justify colonialism? You really think the Bible justifies killing millions of Palestinians?" and start going on and on about how Judaism invented everything bad about Christianity.

My hypothesis: These people are not allies to Muslims (Palestinians). They are condescending to them. They are throwing them a bone because they feel bad about how the Muslim world has been treated, well ever since Sykes-Picot, but especially post 9/11, the Patriot Act, The War on Terror, Iraq, Afghanistan, the Drone War, Libya, Nato, The Arab Spring, the list goes on. They don't think Muslims are capable of building the kind of societies they want, not without their gracious help. They don't think Muslims should have the same ideals of democracy and human rights, because they don't expect that from the Brown People. They won't ever hold them to such a standard because "Ugh where do we get off lecturing them?" even though they would never think this of Jews.

These people are not equals to Jews, something something Sartre they think they are both superior and inferior (which makes them superior). They are not just trying to hold their fellow citizens of the world to account. They are trying to put Jews in their place. They are projecting their religious trauma onto Jews because they do not understand Judaism. They see Judaism as Power. They are trying to delegitimize Judaism as a religion (and it is a religion, including the parts of religions that give atheists the "ick," including a lot of mysticism). They are trying to caterwaul about Jews being responsible for the world's ills and that they expect Jewish People to be better than this. To evolve beyond religion and community and affiliation and identity. They want Jewish to be nothing more than a box ticked off on a census. A neat little factoid about yourself, like how your neighbor Cheryl has Norwegian ancestry.

My only conclusion is that these people find Jews and Judaism repulsive, and they find Muslims and Islam primitive. Unlike their parents' generation, they appreciate the primitive. It is noble savagery to them. Unlike their parents' generation, the comparatively cosmopolitan modern secular Western sheen of Jewry (applied to Jews against their will) is not something that we almost lost from the world, but an annoying holdover of what we almost successfully purged from the world.

Because remember, while they hate their parents and everything they stand for, they still deep down want Daddy's approval. So it makes perfect sense why the psyche would displace anger and trauma and all that caused by Christianity, and look elsewhere to place blame. It falls at the feet of Jews and Judaism. Because my culture could never, there has to be a missing puzzle piece that could explain- oh there it is. The Jews did it. And wow look how easily this can slot in with every other antisemitism conspiracy theory.

The audacity to think I could make a shorter version of that post 😂 But basically it's this: The WWL, the Zoomer Left, the Tankies, whatever name you call them... they think that they can "save" Muslims by offering up Jews, and the terrorist fascist fundamentalists like Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthis, they're on board. They're all in. Normal ass every day Muslims/Palestinians? They just want peace, they just want rights, they just want sovereignty. The WWL is not interested in that perspective.

They have not once in their lives thought of what they could possibly do in terms of reparations. No no, tweeting and marching for a weekend are quite enough. They have not once in their lives turned inward and self reflected on the ways they benefit from and their own role in these systems of supremacy, that have harmed Muslims around the world. Jewish blood is more than enough to pay for operation Iraqi Freedom. Jewish lives are a fetching price to assuage the Westerner's guilt. You know since they have so much trouble turning inward and reflecting on their own contribution to Islamophobia, it might do them good to practice a little תשובה... but I don't know 😌

[kharsagii]

This weekend I sifted through hundreds of screenshots for the OJ fandom bullying report. Made a ton of progress on it, and I hope to release it soon, so that everyone can see the evidence I discuss here! 🫂❤️

One thing I noticed was that a common theme of how fandom bullies justify their hate/cyberbullying is claiming the Throzzy ship, the way I and other contemporary artists draw it (or inherently), is “unhealthy.”

This is fucked up for 2 reasons:

1- This ship isn’t canon. Thus EVERYTHING about the ship is determined by the artists. No 2 artists are the same, thus no 2 depictions of the ship are the same. There is no common “throzzy” ship- everyone has a unique take on it. Without even bothering to read/investigate the source material of each artist’s unique depiction of the ship, the bullies just flat out lie about the content, and project onto the entire ship ideas they got from creators from 10+ years ago that aren’t even active. You’ll see so many of them have “Throzzy DNI” in their bios as if we’re some kind of cohesive political party or some shit LMFAO.

2- Telling women and queers what’s “healthy” for them is wrong and controlling. So many of us are fighting against misogyny/queerphobia in our irl relationships that’s been normalized as “healthy.” Nobody else can tell you what’s healthy- only YOU can decide that.

How I depict Throzzy is literally what I WANT in a relationship- loving your partner for the ways they’re different, healing eachother from trauma, and having loads of nasty kinky sex.

NOBODY can know what’s healthy for you in a relationship more than you do. We’re adults, we decide it for ourselves. And it is ESPECIALLY ridiculous when it’s a fictional ship of two microbes LMFAO.

There is NO one right way to love someone- and anyone that claims YOUR ship is unhealthy needs to stop telling other adults what they should desire and how they should live their lives. Doing so is simply the newest way men/misogynists exert heteronormative forms of control over women and queers.

Queer minorities who enjoy kinks exist. Consensual and healthy age gap relationships between adults exist. Kink shaming + hating on diverse REAL relationships we project onto fictional ones, just because they don’t fit your narrow minded view of what YOU want, is frankly bullshit + sexist.

Women and queers don’t need you to tell us what WE want is wrong. We’ve taken that bullshit from men all our lives. We decide for OURSELVES.

You have a problem with it? That’s fine. Just shut the fuck up and focus on your own relationship, or lack thereof, instead of calling us groomers/pedos/racists/whatever label suits your fancy (or falsified screenshots) because you’re mad that we’re fucking confident, happy, and FLOURISHING doing something you don’t like.

And to my fellow Throzzy artists, NSFW artists, or frankly any artist from any ship that antis get a hardon from targeting- KEEP DOING YOUR THING! This fandom belongs to YOU just as much as anyone else. Your artwork belongs to YOU. Your blog, page, profile is YOURS and no one else’s.

Making art is the greatest form of self love- and no one else can tell you how to love yourself. KEEP MAKING ART!!! ❤️❤️❤️

[papirouge]

This exchange made me realize that many of you tend to forget that Carmy is a late bloomer who never had any girlfriend before Claire which actually explains his awkward behavior. I know it because I too am an awkward late bloomer (around the same age as Carmy and sharing a lot of common with him) and his behavior totally made sense to me lol

I want you all to keep in mind that when you've been closed off romantic elationships for your entire life, you're not handling them the same way people who started dating in their teens or young adult years (Carmy is most likely in his early 30s and never got into any relationships before).

Carmy, like any late bloomer, was used to never being considered romantically, which explains why he freaked out when Claire started flirting with him and stopped thinking rationally (which is very unfamiliar for emotionally avoidant type like Carmy or I - we'll come back to this later). I understand Carmy's move of giving a false number to Claire yet still accepting to go out with her later may be confusing to many people, but as a fellow late bloomer I immediately clocked it : we are not comfortable with the attention people give to us, but we *know* this behavior is not normal/unhealthy so Carmy eventually giving in may be a way of eventually getting into the mold and abide to the "if you don't open up to others and give them chances, how can you expect building actual relationships?" mantra. Because deep down we want to be like others (because being so closed off all the time can become emotionally draining) and seek to find a way to fit in.

Another thing about people like Carmy/emotional avoidant type is that by being so closed off to the world, we are also extremely deceptive about who we truly are. It makes sense to me that Carmy hides his feelings for Syd and would rather project them onto Claire. That's definitely manipulative, but we'd rather do that than get "uncovered". We tend to think very rationally and our sense of self perseveration is incredibly strong. I just know that howing his bare feelings has to be one of the most terrifying and embarrassing thing for Carmy.

We also don't mind getting confused as someone we are not in which we feel some sort of relief because it keeps our real self away from others perception (if that make sense???). Carmy passing himself as "Logan" in that party -while being quite extreme- is totally on brand actually lol. I regularly get mistaken as a male (I'm lowkey gnc) but I never bother correcting people lol I'm fine being whatever they see me as, as long it's not the real me.

Talking about self preservation: we don't ask and don't tell. Carmy sister being mad at him for never asking her whether she was okay was extremely relatable because I tend to get the same reproach from my own sisters. Very typical of us. Fleeing to the other side of the globe to cope with a family member death is something I *get* because we are avoidant in nature. We can also be insane hustlers and tend to cope with grief or unhealed emotions through work.

On the positive side, we are extremely independent and self reliant. The scene in the fridge (last episode of season 2) where Carmy loses his shit and says he was mad at himself for indulging in all "this bullshit" (= love and relationships) I FELT THAT. Countless times I prayed to God to remove from my heart my "shameful" longing for love & intimacy that I always felt hindered me in my quest for excellence & satisfaction in any other aspect of my life. Because we are very rational & practical people and lowkey despise "useless" stuff like relationships and feelings. And that's where the messed up part comes up.

I wouldn't be surprised Carmy lowkey despises Claire for being so clingy and courting him so openly. As I just said, we tend to look down on (bold) displayal of love and emotion which lowkey repulse us. I think that's why Carmy dislikes his sister's husband when he's an all around good guy. He may have a resentment (and even jealousy?) against this man that has no issue showing affection - not only to his sister, but also the rest of the family. Which Carmy still struggles to do so far.

This may also explain why Carmy is suddenly so cold with Claire when he's serving her at the table (beside him allegedly previously making up his mind to break up with her). That's why the moment he hears that voicemail of Claire saying she "loves him" he THROWS AWAY his phone. Because that's disgusting.

I think the CarmyxSyd dynamic is unique because there's a dimension of respect between both. They share the same passion for cuisine, and Sydney constantly pushes Carmy out of his comfort zone. As an avoidant emotional attachment type myself, when I think of the type of people I potentially could be attracted to, I can only think of people I have deeply respect for, and bring objective value into my life AND skills. I've seen people criticize the fact that Sydney was pretty much a "warrior worker" for Carmy (and pretty much the whole Bear crew) and that's true. But regardless it's a good or bad thing, that's pretty much the type of profile that may attract avoidant emotional type of people. Bonding through work & shared passion is our safest field to build romantic connection through. That's why Carmy made Syd sign a partnership agreement instead of a marriage contract 💅🏾 that's the safest way for him to convey his feelings.

Again, we are very rational people and in every type of relationship, we instinctively jauge whether & how this person might be useful for us. It doesn't mean we built relationship with people depending on whether they can be useful for us or not, but that's definitely in a part of our head somewhere. Yes, that's fucked up (1/because we are 2/that's why emotionally distant people can become pretty unlikable - i.e Carmy carmying), but you have to keep that in mind to understand how Carmy moves. Which tracks back to Claire's actual purpose I've elaborated just before. He definitely uses her, but most likely unknowingly.

[oddlittlestories]

Okay okay so I’ve already discussed Star Trek TOS AU where Cuddy is the Captain, House is the “logical” science office, and Wilson is the “emotional” CMO. Which is great and I love it.

However I now ALSO want to introduce the notion of a Star Trek AU where Cuddy is an admiral and House is the captain.

Admiral Cuddy would supervise House directly because no one else is willing to do it. And she’d be Amazing at what she does just like in canon, so no one can really say too much about her pet project.

Wilson would be the CMO still, but in my AU he doesn’t actually report to House because he’s actually his own unit that frequently kips off on their own missions. (Because it preserves the dynamic and I personally find the idea delightful of House telling Wilson he can’t leave bc of xyz and Wilson going, “you know, I don’t actually report to you” before getting onto his one-person shuttle and shooting off into space.)

I think Foreman should be the First Officer. Bc he occasionally takes over House’s position in canon, and he’s always fighting with him over how to do things. After s4, Foreman really comes off as an attending who helps supervise the other fellows and that’s such a first officer vibe. And then if we keep following canon, eventually Foreman becomes an admiral and supervises House.

Cameron could be the Operations Officer. Always doing House’s paperwork, fixing stuff around the ship, and being empathetic with the people they meet on their landing missions.

So I guess Chase could be the Helmsman and pilot then. He’s hilarious to me.

And a lot of the other fellows, Park and Masters especially, could be cadets on ship rotations that House handpicks. Ooh and maybe House’s ship is a really choice assignment (just like in canon) and that’s how things get so cutthroat (just like in canon).

Just picture this:

“House!” Cuddy hisses. “You are about to break the Prime Directive! Do the words “Prime Directive” mean nothing to you?”

“Oops. My bad.” *touches whatever lever definitely breaks the prime directive*

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Consider:

A modern stucky pairing acting on out a humiliation scene that involves public speaking. Like, yes, this is crack, but treat it seriously with me for a moment...

Bucky sets up the scene complete with a presentation projected onto a blank wall at their local dungeon and an audience of their fellow kinksters--in this scene, big sub Steve has to speak about what turns him on. There are pictures of him engaging in these activities, each more and more exposing, and charts (that may or may not just be bullshit, random numbers) comparing each kinky activity to the others, ranking how hot they were and how much he enjoyed it, taking into account how deep he went into subspace, how many times he orgasmed, how long the marks and/or soreness lasted (if there was any), etc.

Throughout the scene, every time Steve says the word, "uh," "um," or otherwise stutters, and each time he breaks eye contact from the audience--looking down at the floor, staring at the presentation for too long, whatever--he has to remove an item of clothing. He starts out fully clothed, not totally inappropriate to go out into the real world in, just suggestive, tight, leave-nothing-to-the-imagination pants, a nice shirt, a jacket, and a collar, but as the layers are stripped away, it becomes more and more inappropriate. Steve is blushing more and more, the flush spreading rapidly from just spots of color high on his cheeks to all the way down his chest and belly. Eventually, when Steve is stripped totally bare, that's when the whispers start...

Under his stuttering, choked-with-embarrassment words, there are currents of people commenting on, aw, would you look at that, he's blushing so much! Or, he's quite the freak, isn't he? He gets off on that? All of that? Or, really, that's hot to him? Huh. Or, oh, cute, look at how hard his little dick is from all this! He's just talking about it, and he's throbbing! Or, God, look at how badly he's blushing, poor thing! Or, at least, he's embarrassed about all this... he really should be.

Steve wants to explode. He wants to cry. He wants to touch himself.

Really, fuck, he wants Bucky to stand from where he's reclined cooly in his chair, happily watching the squirming, blushing, stammering show with a grin painted sadistically across his handsome face, prowl toward him from the crowd, and come to a stop, towering over him in front of all these people. He wants the bigger, thicker man to put a hand around the back of his neck, barely having to scruff him before he crumbles, weak at the knees.

He wants Bucky's touch to make his ears ring, so he drowns out all of the voices. But either way, Steve knows they're talking about him, they're talking about his cock, they're talking about how needy he is, about turned on he is, about how freaky he is, how weird, and, and--

Slowly, Steve realizes that he has stopped talking completely.

Bucky clears his throat amongst the looming silence, his smirk only widening. Bastard.

Someone laughs when Steve fails to do anything but stand in place, helpless and, surely, looking spacy and dumb.

Then, suddenly, everyone is chuckling at him, some people more shameless than others--all out laughing or snickering softly.

And, oh, it's all Steve can do to stay standing against the wave of mortification and shame that crashes into him. Against the torrent of rushing, sharp pleasure, he doesn't have enough time to even bite his lip to stifle the pathetic whimper that gets punched from deep in his gut. His eyes want to roll back into his head, it's so fucking embarrassing.

His little sound makes them all laugh more. Laughing at him.

Steve's eyes water, he's really going to cry. Or, shit, oh, God, with a full-body shiver, Steve realizes that he's about to cum.

How long has he been dripping for? Standing in front of this crowd, red enough to imitate a stop sigh from his head all the way down to his belly, squirming from foot to foot, squeezing his thighs together like he has to piss but doesn't have permission to go, stuttering over every word no matter how easy or simple, panting because he just can't keep air in his lungs, palms sweaty, and dripping onto the floor? Jesus Christ. He's a mess.

[lulu2992]

Uncovering the unreleased Far Cry 5 in-game Encyclopedia

The almost complete but unused in-game encyclopedia, reconstructed thanks to the oasisstrings file.

Please note that it’s still cut content, so some information might not be relevant anymore.

You can read the oasisstrings file here. Pictures from this encyclopedia were also extracted and posted by @xbaebsae here.

Part 6: Characters

Aaron "Tweak" Kirby

Uppers, downers, sideway-ers... Tweak is all about pushing the limits of the human condition.

Adelaide Drubman

A confident go-getter with deep pockets to do whatever she wants, like living with booze, bazookas, and boy toy Xander Flynn.

Bo Adams

A hardcore survivalist that chooses to live out in the woods and off the grid.

Boomer

A scruffy pal with unparalleled loyalty.

Cameron Burke

A U.S. Marshal with an agenda. The only thing standing between him and his political aspirations is the Project at Eden's Gate.

Casey Fixman

A grill cook with a classified past. Most locals don’t believe his outrageous war stories or the wisdom he serves up with every order.

Chad Wolanski

A self-styled prepper chef who sells food out of his food truck since his restaurant "The Grill Streak" burned down.

Dr. Charles Lindsey

A veterinarian drafted into service as a medic. There's no one else to do it, and aren't we all animals?

Cheeseburger

Orphaned as a cub and raised by Wade Fowler, he's the star attraction at the F.A.N.G. Center. He loves eating cheeseburgers.

Clutch Nixon

A legendary stuntman who left this world the way he entered it: Face first onto a pile of rocks.

Dave Fowler

Wade Fowler's brother, he runs the business end of the F.A.N.G. Center.

Richard "Dutch" Roosevelt

An old prepper who'd worked himself to the bone and lost everything even before Eden's Gate came to town. Same shit, different horse.

Dylan

(no description found)

Eli Palmer

A bonafide prepper and the leader of the Whitetail Militia. He helped Eden's Gate design their survival bunkers before he wised up.

Faith Seed

The Siren in the East. The youngest in the Seed family pacifies unruly followers to make way for the Collapse. Some believe she's only an illusion.

George Wilson

George is a Whitetail Militia and baseball enthusiast, but spends most of this time as a lookout because of his age.

Grace Armstrong

A medal-winning shooter and army sniper with a vendetta against Eden’s Gate.

Guy Marvel

A genius movie director envisioning a masterpiece of anarchy and gold statue wins. Even an auteur needs help to make movie magic.

Deputy Joey Hudson

One of your fellow Hope County Deputies who has absolutely no time for bullshit and has the fists to back herself up.

Hurk Drubman Jr.

His wit and intellect may have been blunted by paint huffing, but that hasn't stopped him from living a life of adventure.

Hurk Drubman Sr.

A retired oil baron who is the undisputed master of his domain... what's left of it after the divorce.

Jacob Seed

The Soldier in the North. The eldest Seed brother serves Joseph by creating the army that will defend the Project with their lives.

Pastor Jerome Jeffries

The local man of God who will do whatever it takes to protect the people of Hope County – even if it costs him his soul.

Jess Black

Dutch’s niece. Jess is a loner who nearly lost her life in Jacob's camps, only to discover a new talent in the process: killing Peggies.

John Seed

The Baptist in the West. The youngest of the Seed brothers, John is in charge of reaping the land of supplies that will help the Project survive.

Joseph Seed

The Father. The middle Seed brother heard a Voice that told him to initiate a great Project, to prepare for the Collapse of everything. And so he has.

Kim Rye

A world traveler who chose Hope County to put down roots, and those roots are on the way - she's in her third trimester.

Larry Parker

Genius or crackpot? Science will decide.

Mary May Fairgrave

The tough-as-nails barkeep who blames Eden's Gate for the death of her parents.

Merle Briggs

A local prepper. Merle could talk your ears off about his dream bunker, or the shelf life of canned goods.

Wilhelmina Mable

Wilhelmina Maybelline, big cat whisperer and taxidermist. The well-being of Peaches the cougar is her top priority.

Nadine Abercrombie

The last living member of a family of hoarders, though she considers herself a collector. Much classier than simply hoarding. And more selective.

Nancy

(no description found)

Nick Rye

The best dang pilot in Hope County. Give him a chance and he'll put on a show.

Peaches

The long-time pet of Miss Mable. Probably named for the color of her fur and not the sweet disposition she lacks.

Deputy Stacy Pratt (yes, his first name is actually spelled Stacy in the files)

One of your fellow Hope County Deputies who’s a good cop when his ego doesn't get in the way.

Dr. Sarah Perkins

A lone biologist determined to unravel the mysteries of how Jacob's Judge wolves are created.

Sharky Boshaw

A wanted arsonist, Charlemange Victor Boshaw IV hides out where he can live his fire-blazing, rockstar fantasies.

Sherri Woodhouse

She gave up city life, opened a fishing store, and began the hunt for her family’s missing legendary whiskey.

Skylar Kohrs

A high-powered expert fly fisher hell-bent on landing a legendary fish.

Tammy Barnes

Once a homemaker, now the chief interrogator for the Whitetail Militia. They say her marshmallow blondies are to die for.

Tracey Lader

A woman determined to bring down Eden's Gate, especially Faith. They used to be friends and the sting of betrayal fuels her wrath.

Virgil Minkler

A trusted mayor for the past 7 terms, now hell-bent on stopping the production of Bliss after it took the life of his son.

Wade Fowler

The co-owner of the F.A.N.G. Center, an animal rescue facility that takes in orphaned wild animals.

Walker

A member of Eli's Whitetail Militia.

Wendell Redler

He made it through Nam with his buddies. Now he’s an old man, his buddies are gone, and this is not the America he fought for in his youth.

Wheaty

The smart-ass quartermaster for the Whitetail Militia who also has a radio broadcast to counter the Father's propaganda.

Earl Whitehorse

The devoted sheriff of Hope County. He believes delivering justice with a gun should be a last resort. On the eve of his retirement, duty calls.

Willis Huntley

Just a man in love with the good ol' US of A.

Xander Flynn

Left California for Hope County to detox from the city life. Ended up finding "modeling" gigs at the Drubman Marina, and a cult cramping his style.

Zip Kupka

A self-proclaimed conspiracy "realist" who finds a new reason to hate the government with each passing day.

There were three more:

Coyote Nelson

Fishing is life.

In the files, Coyote Nelson is the name of the fisherman you meet at fishing spots.

Morris

A bright kid of Blackfoot heritage and the go-to person for all things computers and arcade machines. He keeps it on the down low.

The character’s full name apparently is Morris Aubrey. He’s the person who’s always near Far Cry Arcade machines and telling you how “awesome” the game is.

Scooter

A supply runner for the Whitetail Militia.

All I know about Scooter is that, according to a deleted mission objective, this character (who was also cut) was supposed to be escorted to the Wolf’s Den at some point.

[heliosthegriffin]

The Shadow Knight Milita + Pendragon System

Alright, It's been a while, let's do this.

@noneatnonedotcom, Show me what you got for your Pendragon System.

@lonesilverw0lf get over here, you're invited too.

Shadow-Knights Militia, or maybe, Knights-at-Arms, they are the follows of Jaune's persona, the Shadow Knight, inspired by being directly saved by him, him saving a relative, watching him in action, and so on. Regardless, watching a single man, albeit skilled and strong, taking on Monsters and the occasional armed criminal as inspired them to take up arms on their own,

They tend to meet up on Shadow-Knight fan chatroom's (Vale's City Government might deny the existence of Grimm, but they aren't so powerful and authoritative to shut-down all these chat-rooms. Mostly because, for every one closed down, four more pop-up.) and then meet-up where-ever they can in real-life. Sometimes, it'll be a sympathetic buisness, or it'll be at the park, wherever they can, they will.

They are united by a simple informal creed a). protect your fellow person, and b). fight till the dawn.

Other than that they can carry whatever belief they want, and have the tendency to project onto the Shadow-Knight whatever beliefs they onto him, leading to a very fractious group.

In theory, this is a very dangerous position to be in, but in actuality, it's strength is in it independent cells. While anyone can join, and this could, in theory, lead to a charismatic figure head taking over a group with his creed or philosophy infecting the entire movement, in practice, these are all anonymous volunteers working towards a vague common goal. They don't get paid for this, can stop anytime they want, and they each shoulder the burden for the mission in their own way, with members entering and exiting group at the drop of a hat.

Making it, nigh impossible to unite them together, unless it was the Shadow Knight himself, which even then, would require some significant effort on his part.

They tend to be lightly arm and armored, using whatever they can get their hands on, and they could very well use-anything, from baseball-bats to hunting rifles, anything is possible, as these are just people that had enough and choose to do something, unfortunately, not all of them have the resources to fight effectively, but neither did Jaune at the start either, so, it's not a hopeless situation.

Regardless, as long as they have some kind of helmet on, it's considered in-uniform.

[sokkastyles]

Do you think Toph was jealous (that might be a strong word) of Katara natural femininity And how easy being girly was for katara? It’s just that when they argue they do project some of their own insecurities onto each so it got me wondering. Maybe katara was jealous of toph toughness idk?? Thought?

Oh, absolutely. I don't think that's interpretation so much as textual fact.

I see a lot of discussions of this that take one side or the other, but I think Toph and Katara's relationship is a great portrayal of how gender expectations harm girls in multiple ways, and also can turn them against each other, and people who only take Katara's side or Toph's are missing the point.

Toph is jealous of Katara's natural femininity, and that has to do with why she disdains it, but not because she's a misogynist or she hates girls or whatever, but because those are expectations her parents tried to force on her. A lot of what it is popular on the internet to label as "not like other girls" behavior, in a way that implies that being NLOG is a bad thing, are girls who are rebelling against forced gender expectations. Toph is both an abuse victim and a disabled girl whose disability was used in conjunction both to force her to fit a certain gender standard and keep her dependant on parents who were emotionally abusive, and to reinforce how the nature of her disability meant that she would never fit certain gendered standards. I've written about this before, how Toph can't be totally comfortable with makeup because even when she enjoys getting made up and looking pretty, other people can look at her and know that she didn't do it herself, like the girls in the episode who make fun of her for it. Toph enjoys looking pretty but she also has no control over what she looks like and can't even see it for herself, so that also clashes with her trauma over needing to be independent and distance herself from what her parents wanted her to be, a girl who sits still and looks pretty and is there for other people to look at. Makeup as empowerment is all well and good, but it doesn't work that way for people who have certain disabilities, and there is a lot of ableism in makeup culture. Eyeliner that's perfectly on point isn't always possible for women who have vision problems or neurodivergence, and women who wear makeup are supposed to look perfect but make it look effortless at the same time, and that is naturally going to exclude a lot of people, especially disabled people. The show illustrates that beautifully without condemning one way to be a girl or the other.

At the same time, Katara is jealous of Toph for the way she gets to be "one of the boys," and gets respect from Sokka and Aang in ways that she doesn't. See her anxiety over everyone thinking she is no fun and acts like a mom. Katara is a nurturing person and that's one of her stengths, but she also is a kid who wants to have fun, too. And just because being the "mom friend" is natural for her doesn't mean it isn't hard on her. Just because Katara seems to fit gender expectations a little easier than Toph doesn't mean she doesn't feel the weight of those expectations, and even women who fit gender expectations also get derided for them, because patriarchy both tells women they need to be a certain way and then hates them for it. See Sokka making fun of Katara for sewing but absolutely expecting her to mend his pants. I think Katara also thinks that Toph should be on her side, as a fellow girl. Katara is so starved for female companionship and resents it when it appears that Toph is siding against her, because she's feeling the weight of those expectations. And Toph doesn't always understand that, and thinks Katara's attempts to bond with her are trying to force gender expectations on her in the way her parents did.

[racharii]

coming from an enby whos tme (tho i myself am not transmasc), i feel like a lot of transmasc people are doing this "have their cake and eat it too" thing where they want to be perceived as men or men adjacent, in our society a part of the oppressor class, while also still wanting to benefit from structures meant to protect against said class. specifically ones that have been set up in queer spaces. ive met quite a few trans men who were just as vehemently misogynysitic as your average dude bro. and (this is speculation based on convos ive had with trans men im not in every transmascs head) a lot of transmascs have a lot of internalized misogyny that they project onto trans women. ive had an irl ex friend of mine say something that i think encapsulates this particular issue fairly well. this was like 8 years ago, we were talking about trans rep in media (specifically orange is the new black iirc) so im paraphrasing; 'its messed up that we (afabs in this context) are sidelined for people who used to be men, we cant escape the patriarchy.' that was horribly transmisogynistic, so lets unpack it.

it assumes that trans women are just men

it assumes sex essentialism, that they and i were just women. that we were just poor Females having 'our space' encroached on by mean 'former men.'

im not saying that all transmascs think like this ofc. #notallmen. im saying that some do, and enough transmascs have internalized misogyny and not enough self reflection.

just because you are trans doesnt mean you are immune to bigotry and recouping oppressive structures. none of us are free of Sin™️. you as an individual have to make an effort to reflect on your thoughts and actions and how they might affect yourself and others, so that you are not a willing participant of our communities oppression.

for example, ive talked a lot privately about my journey to being a better person, (and pobodies nerfect, its always a learning process, you always will have things you can improve on. and thats okay, were all just human) i initially hated it/its pronouns. 'it' gave me the ick. i was called 'it' as a kid incessantly to make fun of my gender presentation, i couldnt fathom someone else finding peace and even euphoria in using it/its. i bought into the conservative talking points about neopronouns and it/its being detrimental to the trans community. they were "the bad transes" and me? well i use they/them but shakespeare used the singular they so im fine :), im one of the good ones. then one day, i was listening to some video essay idr what or who, but something they said stuck with me, "if it/its makes me happy, why do you care? how does 'it' hurt you really?" my trauma is not everyones trauma, people will find comfort in things that i wont, and thats okay. 'it' hurt me when i was young, by cruel kids and uncaring adults. why am i hurting my community, my fellow transes, by continuing to deny them their autonomy to identify how they like? so i got over 'it.' i saw the real harm was the fucking wedge being driven between us by conservative grifters trying to pick off the weakest in the herd before they go in for the rest of us.

visibility isnt necessarily a good thing for marginalized people. transfemmes are the biggest target of hate in our community atm. they unfortunately serve as the canary. global fascism is on the rise and to be frank, a targeted hate campaign against a trans woman is asking for her to be killed. outed, paraded as a freak, doxxed, swatted, killed. protect trans women, fascism doesnt stop with one group nor will you be saved by being "one of the good ones." trans solidarity, even the people you dont like, even if you think theyre icky or gross or whatever the fuck else you do Not give up trans solidarity. you dont make callout posts, you dont send death threats, you dont send hate mail, if you dont like someone Block Them and move on.

we stand together or we will be eradicated.

[johannestevans]

That native news post saying all jews are white and are siding with our opressors is Antisemitic and as a Jewish fan of your work I'm heartbroken that you would blindly attack Jews in what you acknowledge to be a time of rising antisemitism. I'm begging you to do research into what Antisemitism is and look for perspectives from actual jews of color who get to be both thrown under the bus by gentiles of color for being jewish and thrown under the bus by white Jews who suffer the most when you reblog and condone shit lile that. I want to believe you're capable of being a better person who isn't Antisemitic and hateful.

That post doesn't say all Jews are white, in fact, and I would advise you read it again.

"The rise in antisemitism isn't rising alone, it rises with hate for Queer, Muslims, Arabs, indigenous and Black people, immigrants, leftists, the disabled, and women."

Antisemitism is inherently linked to all other forms of bigotry under imperial white supremacist movements, because the goal is to flatten outside forms of culture underneath that yoke, and engage others to copy and further that violence. Rafael is saying that these forms of bigotry are linked in themselves to and are fed by antisemitism - all forms of bigotry like this feed into one another.

"Yet it's my fellow Jews and women using it to say we should leave our allies to join oppressors.

Why? White supremacy."

Rafael Shimunov is also Jewish - and? Same?

The movement of white Jews to join in apartheid and colonial projects, such as in the violent creation of the state of Israel in Palestine and also in other acts of white supremacy throughout the world, such as in the US or the UK - specifically in taking part in aspects of white imperial society that allow us greater acceptability or whatever is like. Evil.

Israel has long engaged in a very careful and stringent selection of which Jewish people to permit under the Law of Return. Reform Jews, patrilineal Jews, Jews of the wrong colour or culture, etc. One could note particularly that Palestinians are denied a passport as a matter of course, that once they leave the confines of the occupied borders, they cannot return. Is this right? Even were we to accept this cruelty and ugliness of apartheid - what of Palestinian Jews? Is their Jewishness meaningless, because they are also Palestinian?

If your desire is to be an oppressor, to cling onto whiteness more than other precepts of your belief (such as in justice and equality) then, yes. It would appear so.

The movements of oppressed peoples to attempt assimilating into those colonial powers out of trauma and fear, out of a desire to be safe, is an understandable instinct - and an instinct that is misplaced.

It is not just not antisemitic to criticise these acts of evil and dismantle the systems that allow for them, to stand up for those who are most violently hurt and oppressed by them - it is our duty.

You have misread the post - perhaps you did so unintentionally and struggle with your reading comprehension, in which case I'd advise you to read through the post and mine a few more times, slowly. It can be frightening to be challenged on things we have previously considered to be true and ideologies that ultimately do not serve us, and I appreciate that. Give yourself time to digest and consider, and remember that you can always change and dismantle beliefs of yours that do not line up as they should with your moral and ethical standpoints.

Listen to this song, maybe, and consider the final verses.

I think it's potentially likely you thought that this message would somehow make me panic at potential criticism and back down from my long-standing moral views on the evils of our unjust society, regardless of who enforces them, as if I'm some sort of coward. You can see why I'm obviously more likely to believe the former.