#A blank slate to fill with whatever you desire

[tremendouszinelovermug]

regulus black, more like discount severus Snape

[leidensygdom]

The ways in which being asexual feels isolating

I've been pondering whether to post this or not, but I figured out I wanted to explain a bit of this experience.

So, I could go on a very long tangent on how being asexual is usually a lonely experience, and how much I've been otherized here and there- Specially in real life. How the same people that claimed to be queer (or allies) had been much weirder about my asexuality than they were about me being bi/pan or whatever.

But I think I wanna talk about how something like that bleeds in every aspect of socializing, even down to something like fandom. I stay away from fandom usually- I like to look at cool fanart and that's about it. I hate discourse, I hate drama, I hate reading people getting worked up because they're treating fanon as canon. But there's one thing I've noticed, over and over, that just sends me off my rails.

And it's how fandom tends to treat asexuality (or aromanticism). So, you get a character in some piece of media that explicitly, unequivocally, states they're either ace, aro, or both. "I do not have interest in a partner", "I don't desire to have sex nor do I enjoy the topic", whatever. And as an ace person, I do appreciate being able to see myself in media- There isn't many chases where something is established that bluntly.

Now, you decide you want to check some fanart for that. Fandoms have this tendency to make absolutely everything about shipping, even when the media they're basing it in does not revolve about that (and it's annoying, because a lot of times people aren't interested in the actual themes- It's all reduced to shipping). Suddenly, you notice people treating the aforementioned character as anything but aro or ace. It's all about shipping. "This person interacted with this other person in a way two friends would, but we gotta make this their entire personality now". Some people may instead go for "well, maybe the character is not having sex, but they're probably an absolute freak about it, studies it extensively, has encyclopedic knowledge about it-"

Now, there's of course sex-favourable aces, and that's completely valid, but it's already straying from what, canonically, the character had mentioned. Asexual or aromantic characters aren't really allowed to exist as themselves. People often see them as a blank slate to fill, to change, to fix. I could talk forever about how people react to real life aces like that. I've had people asking me incredibly invasive questions because they saw my lack of sexual attraction as something broken, something they could fix.

And I hate that! I think I'm allowed to say that I hate that! It's hard and unusual for media to cement an aro/ace character, because they're defined by the lack of interest for something, which is often hard to show. But when it does- No one seems to care. It's all shipping, it's all "well, he's gay in denial", "well, she's probably super repressed". If you took a canonically gay character and made them straight on a fanfic, you'd get angry people. Which is bound to happen when you erase representation that people identify with. But aro/ace characters are NOT even seen as queer, they're not even seen as "representation" by most people. You can erase that bit of it, put some god awful shipping on top, and people will applaud you. And it sucks!

I wish people would see being aro or ace as an identity worth respecting, not an identity that needs overwriting. It feels a bit too close to how people often treat aro/aces irl, and it sucks. It reeks of this sort of exclusionism, where "aro/aces are technically queer but it's queer lite at best, it's less interesting than being gay, and we kinda don't want them near us anyhow". Again, I've had far worse experiences about being ace than I have about not being straight.

Sorry if the post got long, but I hope this experience may at least resonate with other people who have been struggling with this, too. It has always felt just kind of lonely to be ace, and see how little people do even consider it an identity, even when it comes down to something like fandom.

[n33dlew0rk]

Memento Mori

rated M | 538 words | cw: vaguely explicit anal sex being performed, light dom-sub tones but that's not the point, character study -ish, exes to lovers but not really, make-up sex but not really, angst, boundaries what boundaries, hurt/no comfort

for @steddieangstyaugust prompt 'second chance' (day 1)

Second chances are a weird thing, right?

Like, the entire concept of being able to blank slate a whole event, relationship, trauma-sprinkled experience, whatever. Fucking bonkers.

Because who the fuck can really, like really, do that? I mean, how fucking many glass shards coated feelings do you have to swallow raw even to begin to try and trust someone as if nothing ever happened. As if it’s not your very own rug, the one you’re sweeping all the hurt under.

But, you see, the craziest part about second chances, the one no one tells you about when recounting grand tales of redemption and forgiveness, is that the yearning is also very much real. Just as much as the pain, if not more. 

The unsettling want, the unending what-ifs, the daydreaming scenarios bleeding into real life, infecting any piss poor try at healing.

And Eddie yearned, oh Eddie wanted. 

That’s exactly why his brain isn’t particularly focused on this second-guessing the second chance gig he’s got going on in the back of his head. 

Because right now there’s nothing more real than the sweaty skin under his hands. Reality, the entirety of it, chose one single form to express itself and it was in the soft whining coming from the body underneath him, muffled by a pillow. 

So Eddie grabs a fistful of Steve’s hair in his hand, tugging on it, pulling his head until he can see his face reflected in the mirror in front of the bed. So Eddie slows down his thrusts, watching closely as Steve’s face contorts and lets that same shameful desire burning inside himself escape his mouth. 

Because Eddie needs to see it, needs to know it’s not a fucking hallucination, not his demise alone to be slipping into habit, aching heart and traitorous horniness muscle memory acting rebellious and climbing over the precarious walls of self-preservation. 

And, like, you know how these things go, the split-second identity crisis preceding the dreaded post-nut clarity. So Eddie knows, he fucking knows, as he’s filling Steve up - Steve the all-encompassing leyline, Steve the revelation in the mundanity of sun-filled afternoon smokes, Steve the life lived out in the open, Steve the forever only makes sense if it’s with you, Steve the space-needing-I-still-feel-like-I-need-to-know-myself-better, Steve the heartbreaker, Steve the brave, the strong, the I don’t know if I can do this, Steve the I thought I was stronger - that he can either collapse on him and make a nest underneath his ribs, a chosen gilded cage of acceptance for him to stroke and soothe Steve’s repentance, or he can put the needle back on the turntable and resume the bitter agonising final track of this shitty concept album of second chances.

Eddie moves quickly then because there are only so many closing notes Lost Trust can afford him before Lost Love starts her compelling speech about things working out this time, about finally being home, about time healing every wound that bled on the damned carpet, passing through it like it’s not feeding the very ghosts of pains not-so-past hiding under it.  

As he leaves, he ties the condom and leaves it on the floor, near Steve’s discarded clothes.

A memento mori for the fucking second chances.

[esoteric-chaos]

What is Cleansing? The how-to's and methods

The act of removing unwanted energies from a person/place/object.

Cleansing is generally a gentle form of removal, whether it be spiritual or mundane (can also be a very in-depth and harsh process).

Instead of forcefully removing an influence or spirit, you simply brush the energies out of your space.

This process is useful for ensuring that you, or the things near you are clear of energies that could negatively impact you.

It’s useful for creating a blank slate in your environment or preparing tools for spell work and keeping your energy stable and healthy. Negative energies and clutter can impact your spiritual, physical and mental health.

Regular spiritual and physical upkeep is important to keep you balanced and healthy. Spiritual hygiene is a generally important practice for all practitioners. I'm going to share a few ways to do so from my own practice.

Try your best to cleanse every room, not just a single room. Ever had a space so clean but the rest of your house feels gross? It'll be off-balanced that way and it'll be the same way spiritually. However, if you can't you can't. Do what you can, that's what's important.

Remember mundane cleaning is just as good as spiritual. You can smoke cleanse that room all you want but if you still have things all over your floor and molding dishes in your sink, that's still going to bring in both negativity and health consequences. Cleanse responsibly.

Spiritual

Sound - Using a singing bowl, bells, music, chimes, drums, clapping, singing, chanting. A trusty old sound bowl cleansing video on YouTube being openly played in whatever space does the trick just fine.

Smoke - Burning incense with corresponding herbs or herbal bundle. Remember to open a window for negative energy to escape and for safety. Smoke inhalation is generally not a good practice for your lungs. Also, be careful with pets as they have sensitive respiratory systems.

Spray - Infused distilled water with corresponding herbs, oils or salts sprayed around the room to both cleanse and bring in the desired energy. Again be cautious around pets.

Candle - Charging a white candle with intent, dressing it with oils and burning it down to clear your space. Keep away from pets and small children, burn in a fire-safe dish or on tile.

Sunlight/moonlight - Opening your blinds to let solar energy and moonlight to cleanse a space. Only really suitable for that singular space with a window.

Simmer pot - A boiling pot of water over a stovetop filled with intention filled corresponding herbal components that lets off a fragrance to clear the air of negative energy. You can use blessed water for an extra punch if you wish.

Crystal grid - Setting up a crystal grid of crystals for cleansing that room or your house of negative energy. You can either intuitively make your own grid or find one online. Selenite towers as well are lovely for purifying spaces along with being self cleansing. You can use any piece of cleansing corresponding crystal to cleanse but remember you will generally have to cleanse the crystal afterwards to get out any energetic gunk from it.

Salt - Putting out a bowl of salt in what room you’d like to cleanse. Personally I like putting little shot glasses of black salt in high traffic rooms such as shared spaces as I find it packs a punch due to its associations. However do please be careful with salt with pets. Pets have been known to get into things like salt lamps or salt in general and have had very bad health consequences. So please be cautious.

Energy - Your own spiritual energy. You can use energy work to create bubbles of energy around yourself to push out into your space, to burn up and cleanse the energy around the space. This is more of a hard-hitting cleansing method and can be described as banishing. It can also be energetically taxing for fellow spoonie witches or those with small energy reservoirs. Drink plenty of water, have a snack and rest after.

Physical

Vacuum or sweep - Sprinkle sea salt and corresponding herbs on the floor to soak up negative energy. Vacuum or sweep up and dispose of for removal. Historically speaking you move from the back of your house to the front so you can push everything out of your house.

Washing - Physically washing down doorframes and windows with sacred water (holy water, spring water, moon water) and corresponding herbs. You’d go from the back of your house to the front.

Floor wash - Try out a floor wash charged with the intent to wash your floors to fill your space with a spiritual purpose. Get that grime off your floor while reaping both mundane and magical benefits. You’d go from the back of your house the front.

Opening a window - Open that window. Not only will your space be less stuffy but it lets in needed fresh air. If you're in the city near fumes it's a bit harder. Try to get an air purifier if you can, it's very helpful and health-changing.

Shampoo’s and Soaps - For physical cleansing’s try finding herbal based soaps or shampoo with corresponding herbal components for self based cleansing and purifying. For instance I use shampoo with Tea Tree, Lemon and Sage. It’s purifying and I pair it with a Rosemary conditioner for protection. Get creative!

Cleaning products - Cleaning products with lemon for example have been used historically for cleansing and purification. Let the citrus scent leave your space feeling clean and purified with intent. Can either be naturally made with vinegar or store-bought. Either is perfectly fine. Sometimes natural and handmade is good but if you are someone who needs a bacterial spray, it's best to just buy storebought.

Recipes

All-Purpose Cleaner

What you'll need:

One part white vinegar

One part water

Dried Lemon rind - cleansing, purifying

Dried Rosemary sprigs - protective, healing

Combine the above ingredients together, pour into a spray bottle, shake, and then let infuse for a week before using. Strain out the lemon and rosemary. This is great for bringing in purifying energy into your house along with protective properties.

Caution: Do not use acidic cleaners on granite, as they will etch the stone and proceed cautiously on stainless steel. Some manufacturers recommend against using vinegar on their appliance surfaces. Know what's suitable and what's not.

Glass cleaner

What you'll need:

2 cups water

1/2 cup white vinigar

1/4 cup rubbing alcohol 70% concentration

Dried Orange peel - smells good and brings prosperity

Combine the above ingredients together, pour into a spray bottle, shake, and then let infuse for a week before using. Strain out the orange.

Cautions: Avoid cleaning windows on a hot, sunny day or in direct sunlight, because the solution will dry too quickly and leave lots of streaks.

Home Blessings Multi-Surface Floor Cleaner - Not for wood floors

Ingredients

1 cup distilled water

1/4 cup Castille soap

Dried Lavender buds - peace, relaxing

Dried Orange peel

Dried Rosemary sprigs

Directions

In a smaller pot boil together distilled water with the herbal components then strain.

Mix the ingredients and infused water with 2 gallons of hot water to incorporate in a bucket to mop away dirt and grime on tile, vinyl, or linoleum floors.

Remember, store-bought is fine. Look at the ingredients of what you'd like and use your intention. Sometimes making yourself takes up a lot of time and spoons. It's your craft, your rules.

Looking for all of my posts in one place? Check out the Masterpost

[yennefer-of-vengerbergs]

Elven Storm - Chapter 1 - The Nautiloid Crash

Well, here it is. My attempt at a longfic. Includes a whole lot of HCs, a lot of filling in the blanks, a lot of combined dialogue options and a mixture of all my Syanna runs so far, which I'm hoping will make up a nice canon for her and Astarion.

Some general fic information (may be updated as more chapters are posted):

Rating: E

Pairing: Astarion x Syanna (The Dark Urge OC)

Summary: Syanna knows nothing of her life from before waking up aboard a Nautiloid ship. All she knows is that there is a tadpole burrowed in her head and that she needs to get rid of it. And maybe her newfound companions can prove to be useful in this endeavor. Or maybe she grows to be a different person, someone who is capable of kindness, of overcoming her own nature, of valuing the friendships she found. And maybe, she and Astarion learn how to love and be with each other along the way too.

Overall fic tags (will be updated as more chapters are posted): Astarion/F!Durge, Canon compliant, Canon typical violence, During canon, Post-canon, Act 1 spoilers, Act 2 Spoilers, Act 3 spoilers, The Pale Elf spoilers, The Urge spoilers, Explicit sexual content, Mentions of Astarion's trauma, Appearances from the other companions

Genre(s): Adventure, Romance, Smut, may include angst and comfort at times

Divider from here

Read below or on AO3. Comments are appreciated so please feel free to leave them 💖

Chapter 2 ->

The pod had opened.

The blood in her head thrummed and pounded.

Who she was, how she found herself amid hellish flames, all of it, obscured by an overwhelming loss of memory.

Everything was hidden to her, apart from a vague notion of her name.

Syanna. 

Whoever that was. 

She wanted, no, needed, the truth about herself, and she would claw it back if it came to it.

She cursed whoever was behind it all; however many they may have been, they would certainly meet her malice once she escaped. 

Kill them. Pave a path made of their corpses. 

She had to admit, killing certainly seemed like a good idea. Perhaps her very first.

Even so, if there was one thing that Syanna knew, it was that staying there would be dangerous. Too dangerous. 

So, first, she would get out of wherever she was. Then, she would find a way to shed light on the dark matter of herself. But before any of that could happen, she would need to arm herself at the very least. 

Magic. She had magic. She could feel it, tempestuous and crackling.

Still, it would have been advantageous to have a weapon as well. Who knew what she would run into on her way out of that wretched place. 

Searching the room she was in, Syanna found a discarded dagger, alongside a shortsword.

Good. She would enjoy using them on whoever was behind this mess.

A little further ahead there was a discarded longbow, alongside a quiver filled with arrows. 

Perfect. Raining arrows on whoever caused this would bring her great satisfaction.

Picking those up and equipping them, she set off, fueled by both her desire to escape, as well as the anger and determination she felt, only stopping occasionally to look through whatever belongings and slates that had been discarded or thrown about, hoping to find something, anything that might give her the smallest hint about herself. 

No such luck. The only information she had found consisted of the histories of the world, of humans, elves, dwarves and many others, even illithid, all of them flashing in her mind as she picked up and examined the eldritch tablets they had been inscribed onto.

The more peculiar discovery however, proved to be a brain, still in its owner’s sawed open skull. A psionic presence from within it spoke to Syanna, beckoning, asking her to save it from that place. 

The body twitched, the exposed brain quivering in expectation as Syanna examined it. 

“Please, before they return…they return.”

Interesting. Perhaps whatever that presence was could shed some light on the situation she found herself in. 

“You sound afraid. Why is that?”

“The enemy. So many enemies.” 

There was a growing anxiety within the presence. It was almost palpable.

“And what enemies are those? Who are they?” 

“Attackers. So many of them. Please. Free Us from this place.”

Useless creature. 

“You do realize that you seem to be past the point of saving, don’t you?”

“Remove Us from this body - from this case free Us. Please!”

Taking a closer look at the exposed brain, she noticed how it was swollen, straining against the shell of the skull. 

All the better to destroy it, to poke it full of holes, much in the same way her own brain was. The mere thought of inflicting the same fate on that creature, of crippling it, delighted Syanna. 

She didn’t know when she had extracted the brain from its skull.

Or when she had started to dig her fingers into it, effectively lobotomizing it, all with a twisted smile on her face.

What was wrong with her? 

Despite everything, the creature seemed unaware of what had been done to it, even relaxing in her hands. Then, it jumped, landing on the floor, where it had transformed. Long tendrils sprouted, soon followed by four legs, its feet clawed. 

An intellect devourer, Syanna realized. 

It began to speak once more. 

“We are free. Our freedom is ours. Friend!” 

The creature paused, as if listening to something only it could hear. At the same time, Syanna felt something move behind her eye, as if seizing in recognition. 

“We must go to the helm. At the helm we are needed!” 

Suspicion made its way into her thoughts, unsure of what could happen next, or who could have passed that information along to the intellect devourer. It was certainly something that she would need to find out more about. 

“Why? What is happening at the helm?” 

The brain tensed for a moment, but did not reply. It was as if it was querying an unseen advisor, most likely the same individual that had first reached out to it. 

“Do you not hear it? We will not survive here. We are needed to navigate - we are needed to leave this realm.”

Odd. It sounded…worried almost. 

Deciding to play along for the time being, Syanna agreed to follow the creature to the helm, careful to avoid any falling debris from the destroyed side of the ship. From where she was, she could see dragons flying in the distance, preparing to attack. It was clearly too dangerous to linger there any longer, with too many risks and too many unknowns. 

Before she could take another step, Syanna found herself at the wrong end of a sword, a strange woman holding it, threatening her, even calling her an abomination. She had no time to react, as her skin tingled, her head had started to throb, the same movement - no, the same squirming - behind her eye returning, accompanied by visions that rushed past each other.

A dragon’s wing.

A silver sword.

Lae'zel of Crèche K'liir, intent on proving herself to her queen by presenting her a mind flayer head as a trophy.

Her own face, seen through the woman’s eyes. 

Judging by the reaction she had, the woman had experienced something very similar to Syanna. 

“My head. What is this…ngh.” Panting, cursing, she continued. ���Tsk’va. You are no thrall.” Pausing to sheathe her sword, she then continued. “Vlaakith blesses me this day! Together we might survive.” The relief was obvious in her voice. 

Syanna raised an eyebrow at the immediate change in her attitude. It was quite apparent that whatever was squirming around her skull was a shared affliction between them. Useful, she supposed.

“What made you think I was a thrall?”

“We carry mind flayer parasites.” Frowning, she then continued to explain. “Unless we escape - unless we are cleansed - our bodies and minds will be tainted and twisted. Within days, we will be ghaik. Mind flayers.”

No. Surely not. 

It was Syanna’s turn to curse and mutter to herself. 

“As if everything else wasn’t enough, now I find out I’ll be turning into a mind flayer?” Syanna had begun pacing. “There has to be something we can do.” Stopping for a moment, she looked at the other woman. “Do you have any suggestions?” She certainly seemed knowledgeable of the situation they were both in, perhaps she knew of a concrete solution as well?

Pointing to something in front of them, the woman began speaking, determined and confident. 

“First, we exterminate the imps. Then we find the helm and take control of the ship.” 

She then lowered her voice, briefly looking at the intellect devourer. 

“As for that thing, it will remain tame as long as it believes we are thralls. It may be of use in the fight to come.”

A very practical approach, if Syanna had ever seen one.

Between the two of them and the intellect devourer, the imps posed little challenge, what with Syanna’s spells making short work of them, alongside the other woman’s prowess with her sword. The intellect devourer also proved useful, its claw attacks damaging their enemies effortlessly. 

Once the fighting was done, the trio continued making their way further into the ship, finding another chamber, where more kidnapped people had been taken, one - another woman - still in a pod further back, struggling to get free, pounding against it with her fists, shouting for help. In the middle, there was a console, along with other prisoners laying down, who, as far as Syanna could tell, seemed completely unaware of their presence.

The trapped woman turned her attention towards them.

“You! Get me out of this damn thing!”

Syanna walked towards the pod, ignoring Lae’zel’s protests of not having time for stragglers. In her mind, it would certainly have been beneficial to have another ally on their side, at the very least for the time being.

As she approached the pod, Syanna could feel the magic of the warding runes that were sealing it shut, drawing energy from the apparently dormant console that was nearby. It was only after inscribing the glyphs she had sensed from the pod that it hummed to life, the pulsing glow, alongside its organic lines making it appear more as a beating heart and less as a machine. 

Placing her hand on the console in an attempt to open the pod, she felt the parasite in her head squirming once again, a hideous sensation which only brought on more discomfort. As quickly as the sensation came, it then faded, allowing for an entirely new sensation to wash over Syanna.

Connection.

Authority.

Acting on instinct more than anything else, Syanna focused, willing the pod to open. As she did so, she swore she could feel the console processing her command and then yielding to it. 

A shiver ran across her. Across her mind. She felt…sated.

A groan, followed by a thud were what snapped her out of her thoughts. Looking in the direction of the noise, she noticed the woman from the pod on the ground, muttering to herself.

“At last…I thought I was done for. I thought that damn thing was going to be my coffin.” She then looked up at Syanna and got up to her feet. “Thank you.”

Much like before, Syanna’s mind lurched into the other woman’s thoughts, and hers with Syanna’s. She could feel her gratitude, though it was mixed with wariness, caused by her companion being a gith. Then, the sensation was gone, just as quickly.

“You keep dangerous company.” She observed, with a frown.

Syanna simply shrugged.

“It’s what you need in a fight.”

“Fair point. Looks like there’s plenty of fighting ahead.” 

She then proposed that she come with them, as they could watch each others’ backs as they escaped the ship, which is what Syanna had intended from the very start. 

“Very well, let’s get going.” She paused for a moment. “I’m Syanna.”

“Shadowheart. One moment…”

Syanna waited as she went to pick up her own gear, alongside an oddly shaped object.

“Time to go.”

They had finally reached the helm of the ship, where it seemed that the fighting was at its thickest, cambions and imps fighting mind flayers and intellect devourers. One of the illithids issued a command to them after killing one of the cambions.

“Thrall. Connect the nerves of the transponder. We must escape. Now.”

Lae’zel in particular was disgusted by the being. Even so, she managed to set that aside for the time being - one problem at a time. 

“Do it. We will deal with the ghaik after we escape.” 

Reaching the transponder would certainly prove to be challenging, as there were still plenty of enemies between it and the group. Fighting every single one of them would take too long and there was no guarantee that more would not come to join the fight. No, it was by far more preferable to focus on reaching the transponder as quickly as possible, only stopping to fight if it was absolutely necessary. 

Then, a thought occurred to Syanna - if she could get herself to a more advantageous position, she could cast a spell on herself and simply teleport to the transponder, which would hopefully end things much quicker. 

It could work.

It had to work.

She knew somehow - through instinct, perhaps - that she could do it. She knew the magic needed to do it.

So she moved and sliced her way through, aided by both Shadowheart and Lae’zel, until she reached a better position, her view of the transponder clear. Focusing, she spoke the words of the spell and found herself surrounded by silver mist one moment, and the next she was in front of the ship’s transponder. 

Acting fast, she connected the nerves, though Syanna then worried she was not fast enough.

A dragon had appeared, breathing fire, the flames aimed directly at the transponder. Dodging out of the way, she fell to the ground, managing to avoid the dragon’s flames. 

Then, there was chaos. 

The ship had left whatever hellish realm it had been in, but was too damaged by the dragon attacks to remain in the air much longer. As such, once it had arrived in another realm entirely, it began its fiery descent to the ground. 

Then, Syanna fell. 

She was not sure how long it had been since the crash. At the very least, she had been unconscious for several hours, as night had turned to day when she finally woke up, finding herself alone on a ravaged beach. 

She still remembered nothing. It was clear that expecting her memories to return once she found herself free of the mind flayer ship had been a mistake. 

Syanna took a deep breath. 

She could not afford to linger any longer. No, she had to find a way to remove the tadpole that was burrowed in her brain, lest her future be as blank as her past. 

The gith woman, Lae’zel, had seemed knowledgeable about their condition and even hinted at knowing a way to rid themselves of the parasite. Although she didn’t know where to find her or how long it would take, it was a promising lead at the very least. Nevermind the fact that it was her only lead.

Best get going.

Getting up to her feet, she scanned her surroundings. The gear she had picked up on the ship was scattered about so she gathered it once more, inspecting it for any damage before re-equipping everything. Satisfied, she set off. 

Moments had passed and Syanna found her attention drawn to the pungent corpse of a mangled fisherman. Ever since she awoke on the ship, her mind had been cold and empty, her only thoughts being those of escape and revenge. But something within herself stirred at the sight of that body, a half smile flittering across her face even. 

Syanna tried to remember something, anything, about why or when she had stood above a corpse like that, but was only greeted by flashes of…dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? All different, all dead and all rotten. She did not understand how or why, but she knew, she felt that something unknown and unspeakable was deep within her. 

It was vile. She knew it was vile and she understood nothing of it. She even began to have doubts about having her memories come back. If whatever glimpses she had seen and felt and thought of were any indication of the kind of person she was before, then perhaps it would have been better to simply start anew. But a part of her wanted to know, wanted to remember. 

She began walking again. 

Not long after, she had found Shadowheart, seemingly unconscious, with no injuries that she could see. Checking for a pulse, Syanna did indeed find that she was alive and shook her awake, which startled the woman.

“...You’re alive. I’m alive. How is this possible?”

Both women got back up on their feet.

“I was hoping you might know that.”

Shadowheart shook her head. 

“I remember the ship, I remember falling…then nothing.”

Syanna nodded.

“I know exactly what you mean.” she looked around briefly before continuing. “You wouldn’t happen to know where we are, would you?”

“No…I don’t recognize this place. But anything is an improvement on where we just came from.”

“You can certainly say that again.”

“Well, we should probably start looking for supplies, shelter, and most of all, a healer. We might have escaped, but we still have these little monsters in our heads.”

Syanna raised an eyebrow at that. 

It could certainly work in her favor though.

“We? You want to stay together then?”

“We need each other, and we both know what’s at stake. I can’t think of better company.” 

Of course, Syanna agreed with her.

“One thing, just before we go.” Shadowheart paused briefly. “I wanted to thank you again, for freeing me. It would have been all too easy for you to run right past my pod, but you didn’t. I’ll remember that.”

Syanna found herself smiling at that. It was…nice, to have someone feel gratitude towards her.

Fool. She’s only a means to an end. And once she stops being useful? Then there is only death.

Syanna winced at the thought.

Things had certainly taken an interesting turn as the two women continued exploring the area of the crash. 

First, there had been the intellect devourers they had come across, which they had easily defeated, weakened as the creatures were from the crash. 

Then, further ahead, they had found a man calling for help. 

“Hurry, I’ve got one of those brain things cornered.”

Syanna approached, cautiously.

“There, in the grass. You can kill it, can’t you? Like you killed the others?”

She couldn’t help but smile at that, the idea of killing, once more making its way into her mind.

“Easily. Stand back.” 

Moving closer in, she observed the area, looking for signs of the intellect devourer. 

Except, there was no intellect devourer in sight, just a boar, which had run away once it sensed Syanna approaching.

“Oh yes, intellect devourers, so easily confused with–”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence before being grabbed by the man, pulling her down to the ground, a dagger at her throat. 

“Shh, not a sound. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours.”

She felt furious. To be caught unaware by someone so easily would not do at all.

“If this is a robbery, you’re off to a bad start, friend.” she spat. 

Shadowheart immediately approached, weapon drawn, a fact which the pale elf had also noticed.

“You - keep your distance. No need for this to get messy.”

“I need her alive - stow that blade, or I’ll show you just how messy things can get.”

“Ah hah, promises, promises. But I have other business, I’m afraid.”

During their exchange, Syanna tried to reach for the dagger, but it was another thing that didn’t escape his notice, his grip immediately tightening on it as he pressed the tip of it to her throat before speaking again.

“Now, I just need information. I saw you on the ship, didn’t I? Nod.”

Syanna nodded. Better to play along until she could catch him off guard. 

Then she’d make him eat that damn knife.

“Splendid. And now you’re going to tell me exactly what you and those tentacled freaks did to me.”

Well, someone certainly had their facts backwards.

“What in the hells are you talking about? They took me prisoner, just like you!”

“Don’t lie to me, I– agh!”

Yet again, Syanna’s mind twisted and lurched, and she found herself looking out of unfamiliar eyes, prowling dark, busy streets. Then light. And fear. 

Then the connection broke and she was once more perfectly aware of the dagger at her throat, though it was no longer pressed as firmly, the man’s grip not as strong as before.

Perfect. 

“What was that? What’s going on?” 

Without hesitation, Syanna whispered a cantrip to try and burn his hand. It was enough of a distraction that allowed her to push him off and to quickly roll away before getting back to her feet. 

“Argh, damn it!” He looked at her, clearly displeased by the quick turn of events. “I saw into your mind. They took you, just the same as me.”

“Glad to see we’re all caught up now.”

“Hmph.” He certainly seemed amused by her. “And to think I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. Apologies.”

“I can’t say I blame you, seeing as I probably would have done the same thing if I were you. So, apology accepted.” 

A pity, she was so looking forward to seeing his innards on the ground instead.

“Ah, a kindred spirit.” he then continued by introducing himself. “My name’s Astarion. I was in Baldur’s Gate when those beasts snatched me.”

“I’m in quite the state, but I’m Syanna.”

“A pleasure. So, do you know anything about these worms?”

“Yes, unfortunately. They’ll turn us into mind flayers.”

“Turn us into…” Astarion started laughing, bitterly, no amusement behind the sound. “Of course it’ll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?” 

Then a thought seemed to occur to him. 

“Although…it hasn’t happened yet. If we can find an expert - someone that can control these things - there might still be time.”

That was certainly an…odd way to go about things.

“Control them? We need to get rid of them.”

 Astarion shrugged, nonchalant. 

“Well yes, of course. But first things first…”

Syanna couldn’t help but feel that he was expecting something.

Interesting.

“You should probably travel with me then. Our odds would be better that way.”

“You know, I was ready to go at this alone, but maybe sticking with the herd isn’t such a bad idea. And you seem like a useful person to know.” 

Bowing ever so slightly, he then continued. “Alright then. I accept. Lead on.”

Syanna found herself smiling at that, pleased at the outcome. Having other crash survivors joining her so willingly would be advantageous, for many reasons. 

As for Astarion? 

He would certainly make a perfect, pretty corpse.

[n3xii]

How to change your energy 》

This reading explores what your energy is at the moment, what your unconsciously manifesting with that energy, and how to change it. Close your eyes, be present with yourself for a few moments, and choose a picture below.

☆°•Pile One

What your energy is at the moment

Your energy is in a void state. Its in a place of rest and reset, youre releasing resistance and softening to new possibilities. What does it mean to soften to new possibilities? It means you're in a place where your imagination has expanded and included new things you've never thought possible. You're in a place where you can manifest anything and everything. Your energy is a blank slate of sorts. The best way to harness this, if you want to, is to think of all the habits and beliefs you want to release and actively challenge those beliefs and habits in your daily life. This way, you're entering your preferred reality without aspects of your past keeping you anchored to thr past. You can't manifest the future if you're still living as your past self.

What are you unconsciously manifesting

You're manifesting power and structure over how you think, and inturn I also seeing you manifesting a new way of communication. You're becoming more powerful with your thoughts and in how you talk. Your manifesting the answers to your own questions. For those who have been confused, lost, feeling choas in their mind, im see you manifest a sense of stability and deep knowing. The sturture your manifesting is within your mind, it's a construct that answers all you questions and keeps you stable. I'm seeing you essentially manifest mental stability and the ability to maintain a modified state of mind that supports your manifestions

How to change or refine your energy

If you're intrested in changing or refining your energy then keep listening. For you guys, changing your energy has alot to do with focusing your conscious energy on noticing the beauty in yourself, in others, and in your enviroment. When you consciously observe beauty, you attract it and become it. You harmonize and operate on the same level as beauty.

▪︎•☆Pile two

What is your energy at this moment

Your energy is a magnet. This means you attract AND repel. What you attract and repel depends on what you believe about yourself. If you have good beliefs about yourself, you will attract good things and likewise repel bad things (what you define as good or bad is up to you, take some time to think about ehat good or bad is to you.) Spirit is showing me that your energy is a magnet. Your attracting whatever your energy is in harmony with, and repelling whatever you're not in harmony with.

What you're unconsciously manifesting

Youre unconsciously manifesting healing on an ancestral level. You're dominating the instincts in yourseld and the sunconcious programing that previously took away your power. You're healing those beliefs and patterns that have been inherited from your parents. You're not letting them have power over you anymore. Instead you're taming them and fining your power in overcoming them.

How can you change or refine your energy

By surrending all the things that no longer resonate. You're not giving up, you're just letting it go and deciding its no longer your problem. Limitinf beliefs? Not your problem. You may feel raw in your vulnerability, you may feel like you're giving up, but your simply shifting whatever it is that's holding you back to another power. You're deciding you no longer resonate with it. Surrender the energy in your enrgy field that's acting as a magnet to the things you don't desire it no longer resonates with you and you don't want it.

•°☆Pile three

What is your energy at the moment

Your energy is in a state of lack or hunger. You have an appetite for something more, you have a sense of emptiness and your enegy is operating off this desire to fill that emptiness. In this time, what you feed yourself is what grows stronger. If you feed the part of you that is self hating, co dependent, overly independent etc, that part will grow stronger. This is because your enrgy is in a state of lack or hunger, what you feed is what grows stronger because when you feel a sense of emptiness or incompleteness. Youre not necessarliy gonna be picky with what you use as a tool to fullfill that emptiness. Youre operating from a place that youre missing something, and pile 3, you are NOT. You have to develop the belief that you are whole as you are, when you're not operating from a place of lack, you don't need to constantly accommodate that lack with things or beliefs that may not be up to par.

What you're unconsciously manifesting

What im being shown here is that you're actually manifesting emotionally fullfillment. You're manifesting the power to set things into action without directly doing it yourself. This is a very powerful things to manifestm I'm seeing that people who picked this pile are manifesting the ability to set the boundaries and constructs of their reality. They're creating the limits of what does and doesn't occur in their reality, but especially creating this from a place of ultimate fullfillment. Your energy may not be where you want it to be in this moment, but let's put it this way. No moment exist indigenously in of itself, every moment whether it's the past, present or future is all connected. You're always evolving and becoming what you feed or put conscious energy towards. You're always learning what is and isn't fulfilling in your experience, you're always changing, and always improving. Your enegy may not be what you want it to be right now, but you're always changing because how you think is always changing.

How to change or refine your energy

Stop overcomplicating things. Know why it is you do what you do, and do it. There is purity and power in a single purpose. Stop overcomplicating your manifestions. Stop overcomplicating yourself, what you want, and what you believe. Focus on taking out all the extra details, Stop focusing on minute possibilities and focus on your single intention. What is your desire, purely in its form? You may say "abundance." "Wealth" "for my crush to like me back" "to loose weight" what you really want is to feel worthy of those things. What you really want is to feel like you are worthy enough to manifest what you want. Focus on recovering your self worth. Stop attaching it to external sources, and attach it to yourself. When you believe you are worthy of what you want then you attract it naturally.

[lucky-draws]

scholarly article: maria silent hill.

uhhmm i feel like ive got a lot of maria thoughts that have been floating in my head for ages and they need to escape captivity. this isn't structured analysis though this is just me trying to explain why i like her in a rambling and disorganised manner. (and sort of hoping it might help me to do some art or something.)

the obvious thing that makes maria such an interesting character is that she's not Real...she's the product of james' imagination (at least, that's one interpretation..) ...she's an idea, a symbolism, a hallucination, a ghost, whatever. but in born from a wish, you get to play as her, you get to hear her thoughts, you experience her and she feels as "real" as any other playable character, and it's like. its just so so good, because she's a self-aware unalive girl and there's so much to explore regarding her sense of self, and her sense of identity. like.

she has no past, no memories. or does she? does she have mary's memories, or tastes, or habits, or was she "born" as a blank slate? there's so many different ways to think of her, but in the case of her being a product of james' mind as a kind of idealised version of mary/expression of his sexual repression, i like to think that some of james' desires manifest in her, like maybe she has this kind of restless energy, a restless hunger/desire that she can't really control or finds it hard to suppress. idk its hard to articulate. ( listen to sister of night by depeche mode if you like because that is a song that makes me think hoh....this is maria ! )

and the whole thing of her knowing that she only exists in james mind/because of james. she tries to cling on to him, tries to convince him that "i'm always here for you, james!" because she knows that as a figment of his imagination, if he decides he doesn't want her anymore, she will just cease to exist. james is her "creator" basically. she's at his mercy.which is a horrible and tasty dynamic. and i just enjoy the whole thing of can she break free of him; can she break free of her connection to him, to mary, can she develop thoughts and feelings and desires that are entirely her own. could she become a "real" person. does she want to? she knows she's a ghost; but when she decides not to kill herself, is that out of a desire to live or resignation to the fact that she can't die? she's an incredibly lonely character.

(also if you've ever seen tarkovskys solaris or read the book maybe you will understand me when i compare her to the character of hari i.e. an apparition/hallucination who possibly becomes/believes she becomes real. idk. unalive girls who become alive even though its sort of not possible. i just enjoy them. )

i also have a very specific sort of canon-divergence flavour of idea related to the rebirth ending and in a sort of maria x mary way; my vague imagining is that james succeeds in bringing mary back to life, through the ancient Powers of the town or whatever. but there's a catch, so to speak; maybe the town demands that for a life to be reborn, a life has to be taken, and so james um. conveniently for shipping purposes. dies. but mary lives, and so does maria, because the mysterious and tricky town considers her to be inseperable from mary/kind of the same person, so they both end up alive and in silent hill. which opens up so many issues like. how does maria come to terms with looking at someone who is her copy (and vice versa.).

does mary even want to be alive? maybe she isn't "properly" alive; maybe she's just a ghost like maria. maybe james isn't really dead; maybe they're both existing as products of both his imagination and the town's influence; either way, now there's two unalive girls in an empty, monster-filled town. and it's like do they hate each other are they just sad ghosts together do they have gay sex sometimes we just dont know. i wanted/still kind of want to write fic about this idea in some form or other but so far i just haven't really managed to find time or braincells but maybe i still can at some point.

of course, there are other ways of interpreting maria; i've seen the theory that actually, she's the product of mary's desires; she's who mary wants to be, an idealised mary who isn't sick. and maybe she felt some kind of repression or opression being with james. and it certainly fits the "born from a wish" title very well; a wish to be healthy, a wish to be free. who knows. that idea is equally tasty and fascinating, really, but i only have room in my tiny mind for one interpretation so im kind of just leaning for now towards her being born from james' mind intstead . so uhm.

conclusion: she's just so so fascinating to me and she rotates in the back of my mind 24/7. i love sh2 and i looove born from a wish its sooo interesting to be able to play as someone like maria.

also she's sexy .

the end.

[slimejugular]

Ficlet of Heavy Iron and Black Hook. I don't write intentionally ever (first time) so this is uhhh unusual for me. It is also on another website, but I will not be linking it.

Warning for drinking and this is Not Really For Kids either!

Tapping a repetitive clink-clink around rims of a fuel-filled glass, Heavy Iron sat firm on a stool half-faced to the bar, blank optics sweeping across swells of sleazy patrons. Of course, the pub and its dingy glow wasn’t to his liking. It was an attack on his battle sensors, things thought to be lurking in shadowed corners.

But, to think, the lot contained in it, buzzed to the point that a mere light push would’ve made any one of them crumble, no different than gypsum? Weaklings, they were. In this filthy place, there was no danger to be seen, to be aware of… And for the reason of his increasingly frustrating existence here, was a blasted dolt that had yet to show up, possessing what he truly desired.

What he craved.

He scoffed in distaste, taking a dreg of his drink—only to stop upon noticing pinging, hefty steps from behind, which was a familiar cadence specific to only one person he knew.

“Black Hook,” he grunted, as the bot came into view.

He continued drinking his fuel, just to be petty. Even though there was nothing left in it.

Black Hook was well aware of this, the little mind games they always partook in. And for what? Only that he didn’t rise to it for once, instead stood there eyeing Heavy Iron in return.

In respect, but not the same respect, no, no—through the distortive glass, Heavy Iron’s optics focused on how the blues of Black Hook’s solid frame morphed into slate beneath the slight of the low-budget lights above. He looked…fine. Better than usual. No matter.

“I would wish you were easier to talk to,” Black Hook sagged and sighed, slotting into a seat one space away. Heavy Iron felt off-kilter with the action, uncomfortable in being aware, to feel the faint warmth of the bot’s frame nearby.

He scowled the sensation away. “How I present myself is not something I’d cater to you.”

Black Hook rolled his optics at the response. He was certainly in a mood. The captain then absently called for his own helping from the bartender, specifically with the favor that it be put on his stool buddy’s tab.

Heavy Iron didn’t care. Whatever. He continued, clearing his intake in a gruff manner. Of business. “Now, do you have what was promised?”

Fitting a servo under his chin, and waving the other servo dismissively, Black Hook had to submit to his unfounded fretting, “Ahh, yes. I’ll give the schematics to you.” A small ping went off. “It’s with me, rest-assured, you impatient glitch…”

And with him it was. Black Hook had sent him an overflow of information detailing the Star Crown. Heavy Iron felt an uncontrollable urge to shiver, with the magnitude of power available to him, so very close.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Richard Hanania

Published: May 14, 2023

The topic of black crime has taken over Twitter. It all started when Elon Musk responded sympathetically to a Tweet that presented data showing black-on-white crime is the most common form of interracial violence. The original tweet was completely correct, and you can see Noah Carl for some of the sophistry that has been used to try to deny or obfuscate on the underlying facts.

I personally don’t have the patience for taking part in these kinds of arguments, at least in the way that Noah is engaging here. It’s like the people who spend all their time arguing with trans and feminists by pointing to *scientific studies* showing that boys have penises and girls have vaginas. Men have more grip strength. Scientists just proved it! I guess someone has to do it, and I’ve run into some actual human beings (on the internet anyway) who tell me that they accepted the blank slate view of sex until they looked at the data. This makes me sad. But since the data does convince some people, I guess I’m glad someone is providing it.

Race and crime is similar. The numbers are there if you need them. I suppose foreigners might. But I grew up just outside of Chicago, and data on black criminality is to me just as unnecessary as sex comparisons of grip strength. Chicago is about a third black. Like many midwestern cities, it is extremely violent, with nearly all of the crime concentrated in black neighborhoods. When crime does spill over into the nicer areas, it’s committed by the people from those neighborhoods.

I knew many family friends who were Middle Eastern immigrants and store owners in the city. Every now and then, some distant relation or acquaintance would get their store looted or, in at least one instance I remember, shot and killed. Michael Jordan’s greatness was much appreciated and respected but its consequences used to fill the community with fear, because another championship tended to create another possibility that stores would go up in flames. The Arabs would speak in shorthand. “What happened to Walid’s store?” “You know, the blacks…” “Ah.” Actually, they would say “the slaves,” if you want to really know how Arabs talk.

Here’s the thing: while only immigrants and white proles explicitly discuss this aspect of their reality, every single person within the orbit of the city behaves as if they know the truth. No matter who you are, unless you’re one of the residents of those communities, your life is organized around avoiding the pathologies of the inner city. If you’re a desperate immigrant, you might open up a store, put up a “We Take EBT” sign, and take the risk of being shot. White Americans are less inclined to do this, so they instead just flee black neighborhoods and do what they can to get their kids out of black schools. They’ll make any commute or pay whatever tuition is necessary. No one is confused about this — liberals are correct that entire swaths of a major city don’t end up with zero white people by accident. They just attribute this to “racism” rather than the desire not to be sexually assaulted or physically harmed.

I’ve been talking about Chicago, but the same things are true for Milwaukee, Detroit, St. Louis, Cleveland, Baltimore, and countless other major cities. It’s also true for the cities where American elites and policymakers live like Washington, DC, which is why I’m always amused by theories that say they are actually acting in their own interests by coddling criminals. Other than blacks themselves, no group would benefit more from solving our crime problem than wealthy urban whites.

We can therefore ignore those who deny the reality of black crime. They’re either too stupid or dishonest to engage with. Among others on the left, there has been an acceptance of reality combined with pleas to simply frame the issue differently.

When liberals talk about perspective here, what they usually mean is that the likelihood of a white person being victimized by a black person is small in an absolute sense, so why worry about it? It would be a fine argument, except that we are constantly told to obsess over the harms done by police shootings, white supremacist violence, and vigilantes falsely accusing innocent black men of crimes.

I thought about showing you NYT and CNN headlines implying that blacks have to live in constant fear due to racism. But you’ve probably seen them, and instead I’ll share this clip showing how the topic was addressed a few years ago on a major network TV show.

As a digression, I would recommend checking out a few episodes of A Million Little Things if you want to see the horror that is the PC therapeutic slop that normies are being fed these days, but that’s a discussion for a different time.

So the crime debate has been going something like this.

Conservatives: Look at all the black-on-white crime.

Liberals: Get some perspective man. It’s nothing compared to the chances of being murdered by your own race. Not to mention heart attacks or covid. These are very small numbers.

Conservatives: You guys are the ones telling us blacks are living in constant fear. Stop doing that.

Now, when having these debates, what’s frustrating is that people are usually talking past one another. There’s not like one guy named “conservatives” and one guy named “liberals.” The liberals who are telling you to have some perspective on black crime often aren’t the same ones pushing the narrative that blacks should live in fear of whites. It’s easy to “own” the other side by putting together views of different people and finding contradictions.

That being said, the myth of substantial white-on-black violence is so deeply embedded in the culture that it’s a storyline in network TV shows. I think it’s fair to ask people to take a position on it. If you dislike racists on Twitter focusing too much on black-on-white crime, know that they are closer to the truth than the race obsessives on the other side, and have a lot less power.

One odd thing about these calls for perspective is that when liberals say that intra-racial crime is more common than crime that crosses group boundaries, what they are essentially saying is don’t worry about black crime, because the victims are overwhelmingly black people. But wait! Since when are liberals uninterested in problems that disproportionately affect blacks? These are the people who write serious NYT think pieces about how national parks are too white. They now turn around and say, let’s not talk too much about murder, because blacks are the victims? It’s a very odd thing, and it’s hard for me to even steelman their lack of interest in solving this issue as they obsess over every other black grievance, real or imagined.

Some years ago I noticed that fact checkers started providing “perspective” on claims rather than simply saying whether they were true or false. Of course, what perspective to take on facts is a huge part of what political discourse is about. Do blacks commit a lot of violence against whites? Compared to the number of cancer deaths, no. But in the context of a comparison to white-on-black violence, absolutely. One can conduct a similar analysis of issues like covid, terrorism, and school shootings.

For me, I like cost-benefit analysis as the way to understand what problems are worth worrying about and what we should be doing about them.

Black-on-white violence is not the biggest issue in the world, but it is useful to talk about in order to challenge narratives that pose much more serious problems. Arguments about supposed racism committed by whites against blacks are why we can’t effectively fight crime in this country and why we can’t have freedom of association or meritocratic criteria in hiring. The belief in white racism as a major factor in American life is the force that distorts all of policymaking and culture. Any arguments that are effective at discrediting that narrative are worth making.

And no, I don’t consider acting on statistical realities to be a kind of racism society should solve. Once you remove reactions that are based on group behavior, and private preferences that are none of the government’s business in a free society, the remaining “racism” in the United States against blacks is negligible, and more than balanced out by the ways in which they are advantaged.

The truth of the matter is we have a disgraceful amount of crime in the US, and the costs are not simply a matter of the number of people robbed, raped, and killed. It’s also a tragedy that what could be some of the most valuable urban real estate in the country is basically uninhabitable. In fact, part of the reason that black-on-white violence is rare in this country is because whites have overwhelmingly fled places where blacks live due to the threat of violence.

Other pathologies of American life, like NIMBYism, which drives up the cost of housing, are also downstream of the crime issue. If you’re a resident of Tokyo, you don’t need to worry about greater density leading to a decline in public safety, the way that Americans have to.

There’s no “perspective” one can take from which a reasonable observer won’t find that inner city crime is a major problem, and something we should do our best to solve. The chart below shows the ten American cities of at least 100,000 people that have the highest murder rates, and how they compare to the most violent countries in the world. The murder rates for cities come from CBS, while the country data comes from the World Bank.

[ How the ten most violent US cities with a population over 100,000 compare to the most violent countries in the world. Red is US cities, blue is countries. ]

You might be saying that it’s unfair to compare cities to entire countries, since urban areas might have concentrated violence. Yet the most violent countries in the world tend to be small. For example, St Louis, which is number one in murder in the chart above, has 293,000 people. That’s a larger population than St Lucia (180,000) and St Vincent (104,000), which are shown on the graph. Detroit has 632,000 people, making it more than 50% larger than either the Bahamas (407,000) or Belize (400,000). New Orleans (384,000) and Cleveland (373,000) are close behind. So this isn’t a matter of cherry-picking areas with minuscule populations and making them look bad. These cities are the size of small countries, which means we are pretty much comparing apples-to-apples in many of these cases. And if you want to make a real apples-to-apples comparisons, try contrasting American cities to those in other first world countries, like London.

As I argue in my articles on El Salvador, any polity that has a high enough murder rate needs to make solving crime its number one priority. This was true for that nation before Bukele came along, as it is for major American cities today. It’s not a big mystery how to do this, it’s just politically difficult, because literally everything that works is considered racist. You need more cops, more prisons, and more use of DNA databases and facial recognition technology. You can’t have concerns about disparate impact in a world where crime is so overwhelmingly committed by one group. And yes, liberals are right about one thing, which is that gun laws matter too.

But the left is so out of its mind on everything touching on race that even though they’re right that gun laws matter, when it comes to actually enforcing them, they tend to shy away from doing so for the obvious reason.

While I support policies that can make incremental improvements, actually solving our crime problem to any serious extent would take a revolution in our culture or system of government. Whether you want to focus on guns or the criminals themselves, it would involve heavily policing, surveilling, and incarcerating more black people. If any part of you is uncomfortable with policies that have an extreme disparate impact, you don’t have the stomach for what it would take. And, unlike some, I’m not naive enough to think that non-criminal blacks would end up grateful towards those who took the steps necessary to make their communities safer.

Dealing with the crime issue is complicated for reasons that go deep to the heart of the American psyche, which means there’s little hope that things will change any time soon. Until they do, we should continue to at the very least push back on the most malicious lies being told about race in America.

[resinatingbeauty]

~•The Essentials For Your General Magick Cabinet •~ 

I create intuitively chosen mystery ensembles inspire by the occult, witchcraft, and mythology where many of my own handcrafted creations fill the box in my Etsy shop, thus, I often am asked by those new to Witchcraft or who are beginning to explore different aspects of their spiritually to include 'the essentials', or whatever it is I think would benefit someone who is just delving into the world of new age spirituality and witchery.

It doesn't matter what books you read or blogs you may follow, there always seems to be some inconsistencies here and there regarding what tools are 'essential' for a beginner. Sure, there's a lot regarding the altar and shrine set up, but what if you do not have the space to dedicate to an altar? What if you prefer to perform your craft on the fly, or find yourself leaning toward secular practices rather than devoting yourself to deity worship? 

The handful of tools and supplies I have put together here covers pretty much any ordinary practice that would take place in any spell or ritual and give you an inexpensive basis from which you may build upon as you continue learning, practicing, and exploring what ignites your spark and helps to recover your light. :) 

•White Candles or Tea Lights (And Matches or a Lighter)- One may enter any Family Dollar or Dollar Tree and find multipacks or single white candles or tea lights in abundance. Many spells call for a specific colored candle to be used that corresponds with the purpose or intentions to be expressed or manifested. This extends beyond what is known as 'candle magick' and falls into a category I personally just learned was called 'sympathetic magick'- which is a fancy word for choosing spell or ritual tools, components, and supplies that have some kind of symbolic or intrinsic association to what you desire. The act of creating the right atmosphere for manifesting your will is a type of magick unto itself that can extend well beyond an altar or shrine. Picking the corresponding moon phase, time of day and day of the week, herbs, oils, and candle colors are all forms of sympathetic magick, with candle color probably being the easiest aspect to understand and acquire. White Candles may be substituted for any colored candle that a spell or ritual may call for, as white is considered the absence of color, you may imprint upon it whatever color you desire it to be. This kills the need for a large stash of chime candles or votives of all different colors. Sure, it's nice to have the appropriate color a spell calls for and having such in your possession does help conjure the atmosphere whoever created the spell intended to conjure, but in a pinch, any white candle or tea light with something to light them with will work just as well as that pink or red candle for your love spell or whatever it may be you are attempting. 

•Clear Quartz Crystals- Clear Quartz only recently became semi-scarce due to over mining and demand, though one may still purchase Clear Quartz crystal points in bulk for around $10-15 for a 100 gram bag on Amazon and beyond, where if you prefer raw stones over tumbled and polished, you may be able to get them even cheaper. Clear Quartz is believed to be the 'Master Healer' by Reiki Masters, as it possesses many different healing properties in addition to cleansing, grounding, and aligning the chakras. In witchcraft, Clear Quartz is used in many different rituals as it is an amplifier of energy that can enhance the efficacy and success rate of spells and manifestations aside from amplifying the energy of any and all other components and crystals around it. Clear Quartz may be readily substituted for any crystal, should a crystal be called for in any sense, and its abundance in nature and online make it an essential choice for having on hand for everything from creating Charging or Moon Water, creating crystal grids, talismans, spell jars, mojo / Gris Gris bags, or simply placing in your home or on your altar to help facilitate whatever you may be attempting to conjure or manifest at any time. 

•Olive Oil- it's no joke that essential oils, especially those that are organic or completely natural and high quality are quite expensive. If one were to purchase even just the handful of essential oils commonly mentioned in most witchy books, occult texts, and herbalist grimoires, you would be looking at a good $30-$60 investment for the basics. Olive Oil, on the other hand, may not be particularly cheap at the grocery store, but when you consider the amount you get for the price compared to the .33fl oz bottles of essential oils, you are getting quite a bargain and a tool that may be substituted for any particular oil something may ask you to use, including for dressing / anointing candles and ritual tools. The ancient Greeks and Romans often used Olive Oil as an offering to the Gods, and it has long been considered a sacred nectar in many different religions. If you already have a selection of essential oils, you may use Olive Oil as a carrier oil to make them last longer by diluting them and rebottling them or to make your own essential oil blends and ritual oils. Olive Oil is naturally pure and will allow your oil blends to work with most diffusers and burners while providing a hypoallergenic carrier option should you wish to apply any to your skin. 

•Salt- So many things salt may be used for and so many reasons to keep a stash of salt around set aside for spiritual endeavours. Sea Salt in particular is a component of many spells, rituals, potions, and magickal concoctions. It is representative of the element of Earth and is associated with many simple practices you can easily integrate into your daily rituals for cleansing, banishing, and protection. Using salt for cleansing offers a no-burn, inexpensive, sensitivity friendly option for the modern witch that can be purchased on the cheap virtually anywhere that sells things.

•Sage- The next few items are more essential for the diligent witch putting together their toolbox, as one can avoid the herbal aspects of witchcraft entirely if they desire to with many more modern texts not blending the old world concepts of herbalism/ old world medicine being akin to magick. Sage is often burned for cleansing purposes, either in smudge or incense form, but it may also be substituted for any herb a spell may call for, provided you are not trying to concoct a definitive product or recipe as a result. Sage may be easily grown within your own home- I myself have a common Sage plant I grow indoors and have been reading the benefits ever since I purchased the starter from a small nursery in Kentucky, as I never seem to have any luck sprouting seeds myself. Sage may be added to spell jars and the like as easily as one would add a handful of crushed Clear Quartz for the added benefit of maintaining a cleansed vessel for manifestation. Sage incense may also be substituted the same way.

•Roses- Roses and Rose Petals have always been associated with love spells and love potions, but many do not realize that Roses have a positive energy so profound, that vibrates on so many levels, that they may be adapted to serve virtually any purpose in any spell or spiritual practice, not just spells associated with love, romance, or sexuality. 

•A Bell or Bells- Whether you wish to drop the money on an intricate antique or visit your local consignment store or dollar store and pick up some used school bells or jingle bells, the bell and bells are probably the most underrated tool a witch can utilize, like, ever. Bells have a long multicultural history of providing blessings of prosperity, protection, and good luck, with many beliefs rooted around the belief that the ringing of a bell resonates throughout the fabric of the cosmos, reverberating across space and time. Percussive instruments, as bells are, are often used for cleansing rituals and spiritual healing. It is often stated that ringing a bell 'resets' the atmosphere and energy around you, effectively banishing negativity and providing a blank slate for conjuring new energy and any other spiritual activities. Don't balk at the bells! 

If you're the creative type, you may create what are known as 'Witch's Bells,' often made from wreaths or braided twine, beaded rings, etc with three or more bells attached meant to be hung off the doorknob of the entrance to your space or they may be made as a handheld tool to be used for regular rituals. These are then blessed or enchanted in some way that depends on the practitioner and the purpose they wish them to serve. 

What about those of us that have limited storage space? Or those that may not be able to light candles or incense due to living arrangements or allergies? This is where myself and many others can step in and offer you a hand. In my own shop, I offer hand crafted and personalized / customized spell kits created for your specific needs that will provide you all the materials for any specific spell or ritual you desire. There are other sellers that offer similar options, some that are personalized and others more general, but if you are looking for something more 'disposable' to be at your disposal at any given time, this may be worth looking into. 

My own spell kits range anywhere from $12-$35 depending on what it is you request and the materials you require. As I cater to all skill levels and handicaps in terms of what one can feasibly perform or utilize in any given situation, if you do happen to have a particular spell in mind but have no idea how to proceed in your current situation,I will be more than happy to consult with you and hand select or create a spell kit with detailed instructions and tools to aid you on your spiritual journey, regardless of your destination. As I take great pleasure in assisting others in manifesting their dreams and desires, I will always work with you and put your needs above your budget. 

Just some food for thought for those of you who have been blindly purchasing items for spells or spiritual endeavours to have on hand 'just in case' and to remind everyone that magick and successful manifestation is less about the 'stuff' and very much about your intentions when using it to conjure energy and become the catalyst for change, however you proceed to do so. 

Wishing everyone a blessed weekend and throwing a friendly reminder out there that the current sale that has been ongoing in the shop will be ending soon- this will be the last until next month so please take advantage if you have had your eye on something. I will be retiring some older designs at the end of September 2021 for recreation / re imagining and to pursue new and better concepts to take other's places. These designs will go on one last farewell sale during the month for a good 25%-50% off until they are sold out. As always, I appreciate everyone's support of my Craft and crafts. It has been a pleasure to work with and get to know so many amazing people! A dream come true to do this full time!

-Samantha 

Owner, Designer, Creator, Chaos Witch & Spiritualist 20+ Years Practice

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[lordzannis-blog]

A Broken Soldier

AvoidingAverage

Summary:

"Steve Rogers went into the ice a grieving man, tasting Bucky’s name on his lips and Peggy’s sorrow in his ears. He emerged a blank slate." Steve Rogers wakes up in a world full of aliens, men of iron, and a past complicated by the heroism of a man he no longer remembers being. He has no interest in remembering the pain that drove him into the ice without the parachute that might have saved him. No desire to know about the best friend he lost or the woman who moved on without him. He has more important things to consider...like killing the Winter Soldier.

man on the wall (man in the dark) by Spacedog

In another version of Brooklyn, in an uncanny New York City, on an earth just on the edge of unfamiliar, Bucky Barnes—a mid-ranking engineer in Stark Industries’ brand-new department of prosthetics and medical robotics—should be coming home from work. But along comes a spider, and, unwittingly, his life goes upside-down. Quite literally.

Sacrifice Play by HaniTrash, The_Reverend

What should have happened when Steve and Bucky reunited on the battlefield. And then something that really shouldn't have, as far as Steve is concerned.

Falling's Just Another Way to Fly by AraniaArt, Kamiki

his series explores a parallel-to-canon "What if" Hydra experimented with occult legends of a more demonic bent. When Bucky is captured at Azzano, the seeds of something more insidious than a knock-off super soldier serum are planted in him, but the full effects take some time to completely set in.

Flare by WishingStar

a soulmate au series

All Sinners A Future, All Saints A Past by BlackUnicorn

Steve Rogers was dead. He had died the moment Bucky had fallen off the train but Captain America had lived on and not even a plane crash and 70 years of cold and ice could change that, leaving him stranded in a new century. A new world. But it was fine. It really was. As long as he didn't let himself think. Or sleep. And then, one day, Bucky came back.

it Has Fanon Peggy carter if you dislike canon mcu peggy for many reasons

say it soft and it's almost like praying by Somanywords

Natasha says, “Look, whatever the truth is about you, we have no way of really knowing the Winter Soldier's intentions. He’s not all there, he’s not who you remember. He’s a hot mess, Steve.” “Why does everyone think that?” Steve says, and he’s nearly yelling, but not quite, because he doesn’t need to, not when they’re so close. “Why does everyone keep saying he’s a mess—have you seen me? ”

Skip the Charades by BonkyBornes

Longing by fannishliss

Why Hydra chose those specific triggers words to lock down Bucky's brain, and how Steve and Wanda work to undo them.

This series uses experimental styles and shifting povs, so every chapter is a little different.... Moving from angst to the happy ending we so desperately need for them

What Might Have Been by AraniaArt, Kamiki

It has President Steve Rogers

No Such Men Return by GlassCaskets

When he is thirteen, Bucky Barnes decides he has to learn to fight to protect the people he loves. This singular mission never really stops. OR: Filling in the gaps between three Captain America movies and the life and times of James Buchanan Barnes and the first and best thing he ever loved: Steve Rogers.

Waking Up by WolfenM

Steve looks to the Avengers for help with a newly-found Bucky. Can they undo all the damage that's been done to the man by HYDRA?

The Bucky Barnes Recovery Project by FrostyEmma

A complex story of love, redemption, and pancakes.

We Were Here All Along by giselleslash for thorstbench post catws au

After the events in DC Bucky shows up at Steve’s door. All Steve wants to do is hide him away from the world so when Natasha offers the use of one of her safehouses Steve takes her up on it. Now the two of them are together, and on their own, nothing but two ghosts haunting a cabin in the woods desperately trying to get back to each other.

The Sole Unquiet Thing by belial

Didn't You Love Me? by charmedward

“I’m still dangerous, Steve. I sleepwalk. I could slit your throat with a kitchen knife and go back to bed without realizing. Just ‘case I’m me now don’t mean I'm always gonna be me. You get that, don’t you?”

And he should be saying yes. Yes I know you could kill me, could lead all our enemies right to my front door and let them in. Yes I know you aren’t that man I went to war with. But Steve doesn’t say that. With a glance at Sharon, he sits up straighter and squares his shoulders. It’s the look that Sam has taken to calling “Steve’s taking on the world’s burdens” look.

"We’ll make it work, Buck.”

Long Way Home by Malexxx

“What’s my name?” He saw something change in Steve’s eyes. Suddenly the man in front of him looked incredibly… sad. He could hear it in his voice too when he answered. “Your parents named you James Buchanan Barnes. But to me, you’ve always been Bucky.” Bucky. He had heard that before. Even before Steve had said it on the Helicarrier. There was something very familiar about that word. Or was it the way Steve said it? Or: What would have happened if Steve and Bucky were together in the forties, and the Winter Soldier doesn’t leave after pulling Steve out of the river.

we are here now by randomhorse

“He was a soldier, like us,” Steve says. “He killed people like we did, but he never had a choice. They put us on pedestals and him on trial, how is that fair? How do you fight a fight like that if not dirty?”   Which Bucky is healing, but Steve is more broken than either one of them realizes.

Transatlanticism by ohleahmarie post catws au

A Winter in the Sun by faeriecap post catws au

"Kiss me once, and kiss me twice, Then kiss me once again, It's been a long, long time. Haven't felt like this, my dear, Since I can't remember when, It's been a long, long time. You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you, Or just how empty they all seemed without you, So kiss me once, then kiss me twice, Then kiss me once again... It's been a long, long time."

After SHIELD falls, Captain America tries and fails to find the Winter Soldier... Until the Winter Soldier finds him. Turns out he wasn't Hydra's only secret, and as Steve and Bucky try to re-acclimate to life together, what (and who) they find in the process will change everything as they know it.

The Story of Us by moomoomeep

Steve follows Bucky. Bucky follows Steve. "Til the end of the line, right?" "Yeah, end of the line."

Me Against Your Memory (It's a Two-Step Recovery Process) by thisiswhatthewatergaveme

Steve takes a breath. He blows it right back out. It’s the Winter Soldier who speaks first. “Why does he have my face?” -- The Soldier needs answers. It's the only mission he has left. And the mission is all he has. But HYDRA doesn't let a good thing go easy-- and a home unremembered isn't much of a home at all.

while it hasn't been updated in years be sure to comment, they still love it when a reader made a comment they stopped finishing .

Out of the Wreckage by eosaurora13 post catws au

After the helicarriers crash into the Potomac, Steve discovers more about the Winter Soldier while what's left of Bucky wanders Washington D.C., trying to remember the man he saved. Everyone else tries to help them pick up the pieces. Except there's a lot more to what happened to Bucky than anyone realized and Hydra is willing to do whatever it takes to get him back.

In Hell, We Stand By You by Annaelle

Steve wakes up alone, without Bucky, to a future he could never have imagined. He fights aliens, picks up boxing again, writes little notes that Bucky will never be able to read and struggles to find his place in this Brave, New World. He does not, thankfully, have to do it on his own. Steve Rogers-centric. Canon Divergent. Stucky Endgame.

I Left Myself in 1943 (Who the hell is Bucky?) by originalblue

You have a mission, but your mind is being split in two, and there's a man on the bridge, and you know him. You don't know why, but you know him.

Hurts Like Hell by onymousann

Steve falls from the Helicarrier only to wake up, severely injured, to the realization that the Winter Soldier has absconded him away to an abandoned Hydra facility. He doesn’t know why the Soldier rescued him from the Potomac, or why his masked captor treats him as anything but a captive, as he undertakes the task of nursing Steve back to health. He also doesn’t know why certain things the Soldier does resurrect echoes of a man long-dead. Echoes that make Steve’s heart ache with grief.

Series

Part 1 of ocean eyes

despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by praximeter (Zimario)

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

i keep these memories in a lockbox (even I don't know, even I don't know) by infinite_wonders

Frankly, he doesn’t understand why he’s even here, at the blond man’s-- Steve Rogers’, Captain America’s-- bedside, watching him suffer and letting it hurt his heart as much as it does. Except, that’s a lie, isn’t it? Or, that Canonical AU where Bucky gets found and, three months into his tenure with SHIELD, gets to have the amnesiac's version of an existential crisis about the dying former best friend that he can't remember.

Winter Heart by destieljunkie

A training mission goes sideways and Steve is stuck on lockdown when he gets an unexpected assignment. To bring in the Winter Soldier. Nothing at SHIELD is as it seems and Steve suspects the serum is fading just when Bucky resurfaces with no memory of his past. Hydra doesn't intend to let their best assassin go without a fight but Steve refuses to give up the man he loves a second time. Willing to sacrifice his shield and everything he is to convince Buck that he’s worth saving.

From Ice and Ashes by phansomedevil

Steve asks: “How do you move on?” Sam’s eyebrows shoot skyward. He whistles air out from pursed lips. “Do you want the therapist's answer or the real one?” “Surprise me.” “The truth is – you don’t get over it,” Sam says, his voice low. “Not when it’s that close to your soul. Not when he’s someone you built yourself up around. Maybe you fall in love again, maybe you don’t. It won’t feel the same. He’ll always be coming up in your peripheral.” As the bus pulls to a stop in front of them, Sam grips his shoulder. “But you still gotta keep living your life. For his memory, yeah. But mostly for yourself.” *** Steve Rogers learns what it means to be a queer hero in a complicated modern age. He tries to move on from the pull of the past, and his lost loves, but fate rarely lets him catch a break.

Oh, my darling by boopboop

Murdered while walking home with his fiance, Steve turns his back on a chance at peace and is now trapped on earth with only the dead who can see or hear him. Unable to do anything but watch as Bucky becomes lost in his grief, Steve's real purpose for remaining becomes clear when he learns that his death wasn't just random, but planned by someone he trusted with his life. Facing the reality that Bucky is now in more danger than ever before, Steve's only chance at saving him and avenging his own death is in the hands of a psychic who adamantly doesn't want to believe in ghosts. aka A dead guy harasses a long-suffering PTSD vet in an attempt to protect his fiance from the backstabbing asshole who killed him. Aka the Ghost!AU no one but Brenda asked for. Tissues on entry. Please take all complaints up with management.

waterlogged by Team_Free_Tardis_Deduction

A missing scene, because we all wonder what happens when the cameras are off. Steve and Bucky take a third plunge, this time together. This time it's Steve that drags Bucky to shore. This time they're almost not so lucky. ft. CPR, man tears, and a helicopter

The Man On The Bridge by LokiNeedsHugs1031

Steve Rogers rescues Bucky from Pierce just after the fight on the bridge. FIX IT FIC

Bucky Runs (his mouth) & Comes (back home) by Jacqueemackee, shax92

The camera cuts to a cell phone video, shot vertically, of the banks of the Potomac with Bucky hunched possessively, almost predatorily, over Steve's beaten and dripping wet body, (replacement?) mask somehow back on his face, everything concealed except his eyes and forehead. Off-camera one voice calls for an ambulance as another voice asks, "Are.... are you a new Avenger? Did you just save Captain America?"

Bucky looks up, eyes momentarily confused but quickly turning to a stormy glare before snarling, "I fucked Captain America. In the ass."

(The mask doesn't come off until the helicarrier. This complicates things.)

I'm sitting here wondering just how alive or dead the Stucky fandom is right now in 2023.... I have no idea bc I just started liking them....

Feeling like this rn

[sjw-publishings]

A Shift In Attractions

Jace was crushed, after asking his asian friend for a date. Only to be told a lengthy description on why he should change his ways and set himself straight, before leaving off to some random asian chick who he never recalled seeing him with.

Though then again, the asian man was just a crush right? Crushes get crushed he supposed. Though he thought they had something, unlike those one night stands in private...

Maybe if they had bonded more in class than just mere classmates, he could have stood a chance...?

“No no...”

Shaking his head, he doubted it, the guy seemed completely dedicated to his girlfriend. He always recalled him proclaiming ‘Praise the lord to our relationship’ as he kissed his girl. No wonder he accentuated on the word ‘Straight’.

He never felt more insulted. Tugging his dress shirt, the tall lean college senior scoffed. Yes he was a valedictorian, and he stood out, but that did not give the right for this christian hottie to just diss him off like that.

He was being polite and civil too. All he wanted was to graduate with honours and have a lovely boyfriend.

He wished that he could have fallen for someone else...a shift in attractions-

“Hey man! Would you like to join us for prayer time?”

A tanned asian man in a checkered shirt and khakis interrupted his train of thought...and boy, was he cute. Down to the mannerisms and attitude...darn, he reminded quite a bit of his crush.

Without speaking, the tanned man grabbed hold and brought him down the alley way, where soft tunes filled in the atmosphere, as a group of men were seated in the middle.

“Welcome brother, I’m Paul Heng. So glad of you to join us.”

Ushering him down next to the man, he blushed wildly as he could. If anything, he literally drooled at those thick biceps and pecs straining against that marine tank of his. Not to mention the cute innocence that he displayed beneath those messy bangs of his, despite the asian probably being around the same age of him.

“Would you like to share with us what seems to be the matter?” Paul Heng spoke.

He looked around, more than half of the men were asian, and his gaydar definitely sensed the rest are gay, coincidentally enough. Not as to say the asians are not gay...but this group in particular...

Whatever, maybe they are allies at the very least.

“Oh...There was this guy...and..”

“Say no more.”

Paul placed his palm over on his back, still retaining his smile as he closed his eyes, head down as he prayed.

“Father God, please work about a shift in attractions within this man.”

The music was cranked up louder, still peaceful but yet...a little too calming? Coupled by the warmness emitting from the asian’s palm...it just made him, want to tell everything...

Eyelids heavy, Jace watched as the others mirrored him and Paul. Each of them grinning as their eyelids closed shut.

“Tell us...what you desire.”

Paul spoke, as his palm radiated heat within his back. Soothing those tired knots, loosening them, giving vigour that he never had. Igniting new desires within him.

“I want...to be young and fresh.”

Those words escaped out of his mouth instantly, like a inner desire coming forth. Young and fresh? Didn’t he want to graduate from school? As a senior? But as the warm, radiating heat seared his skin...almost like a warm tan, it definitely showed otherwise.

Sophomore, yeah he did do sort of well in school...but that was not what he really wanted. Crushing on his role model who was older definitely did not do him any favours either...

Freshman...yes, that was exactly what he wanted, where he is. Completely new to everything, a blank slate, letting the warmth guide him in the...overly calming music being played in the background. Regressing to a man who just turned legal 18 a couple of months ago, of course.

This was the freshman’s orientation, he and the other newbies were assigned to be in this group. Sure it was odd why they were in a batch with more than half being Christian and asian, but who was he to judge?

He was young, and fresh.

“Indeed, and someone as young as yourself, is bound to have so much energy.”

Senior Paul’s palm radiated heat once again. Jam grinned wildly, as his back wanted to just carry tons of stuff cause of his energy. Legs unable to sit still as they shifted back and forth within the meditation position he was in.

“And with that energy, belongs to brothers who are athletic.”

Energy, athletics. It made sense didn’t it? His back, while much younger, gained a sizeable definition as they broadened with the heat. Embracing the care, and concern from his brotherly figure, as the tanning trailed forward with the suggestion.

His chest toughened, definitely not as crazy big like his seniors, but he did work out quite a bit! A Light trace of abdominals Pressing against his dress shirt, his pectorals inflating to a sizeable degree, with those ‘Tiny udders’ begging to be milked.

But wait, didn’t he had done ‘It’ before? But that did not make sense to the college freshman. He just turned legal months ago! No way was he into that kind of life.

Besides, it feels unethical to think of such thoughts with Christians. Pretty sure they rubbed off him...despite being...

“Amen brother?”

“Oofmm...”

Paul gave a gentle rub against his back, as he let out a soft, satisfied response like the other freshmen. He just...knew this freshman orientation helped them, eyes still remaining shut as it was still prayer time.

“Amen...”

He spoke calmly, though there were hints of joviality within them. Grinning, his vocal chords still shifting due to puberty, he sounded so cute, so young. But damn these clothes are so uncomfortable.

He was never the smartest guy in his class, or even mid way. Which was supposedly odd considering he was half asian. Preferring softer, younger clothes that are more trendy or just stuff that gave his muscles a little more breathing room.

Wincing, he felt his legs strain against his Dress pants, being too tight for the male altogether and just a chore. Why did he pick such nerdy subjects? Those stuff are for brainiacs and the gays!

Wait did he just say that? He was gay...though that insult felt appropriate to him. Like how gay it was for him to wear briefs and shoes two sizes bigger than he was. Did he let his mother dress him or something?

Man...he hoped that his youth leader would call him out on-

“With such a youthful appearance, one ought to dress like one.”

Thank Lord! Someone gets him. Grinning wildly, Paul’s warm synchronising with his own, as the tight fabric softened. Sleeves rolling up to just below his shoulders, clinging firmly on his back as buttons and the collar disappeared into the wind.

Colour darkening in cotton, as printed logos plastered itself on his brand new Youth Trends shirt he got with an iconic ‘ORH’. Giving his body the much needed breather room it so desired.

Why would he wear a dress shirt? Only DORKS wear those....and his pastors and sometimes his youth leader as well...BUT NOT HIM. He definitely pulled pranks, but not stuff like that!

Sides, if there was a prank, he would be doing the more hands on kind of approach. What was he? An academic nerd? Haha ok lol boomer. He launches erasers, paint balloons and all those kinds of stuff towards the nerds.

Serves them right for calling em’ gay!

His tanned asian arms flexed in response, as his expensive watch became cheaper with rubber straps. It was time for attention! And being young, he wanted all if it!

So much, that Paul had to always bring them down before they interrupted the prayer session. He was so cool, his big bro Paul Heng, allowing him to just be, HIM.

Dress pants shrunk upwards, concentrating with mesh fabric as they became grey sports shorts. The kind of stuff he always wore while on the field kicking balls, soccer balls DUH. What you think, huh?

Tightening below in two areas, shoes shrinking to a size 8, metallic indents growing at the bottom and a signature styled itself on both ends of the cleats. Whose signature, one of the pro asian athletes of course. Which one? HAHA, Why you want to know? Gay?

Gay? POKE! Thrusting forward, by only a small bit. His hard-on actually shrunk back a couple of centimetres, like his brain-LOL WHO YOU CALLIN’ DUMB, FAGGOT?

Ruder and ruder, thrusting as he so desperately wanted action, never experiencing it. Buttocks hardening but shrinking in size as well, compacting to the new Jockstrap with his 6 inch wiener, only when its-

“Any Hard thoughts? Benjam....”

Paul spoke, his hand still on his back. Yeah he was hard, though it would be pretty gay if he said he got hard cause of the prayer. Yeah he was a new christian, but still...

“Yeah man...I wanna...”

The Chinese Asian’s pubescent voice spoke out...to be honest, he was not sure what he wanted. He liked being a young jock, but the more he tried to think of...some random older asian, it felt really really off.

What was he? GAY? I mean he had...some gay thoughts, but what was he thought when he was a Christian for years? Be fruitful and multiply...and man, did that phrase cause his smaller crotch to just wanna skyrocket through late puberty already.

“A hot babe?”

“Oh yes! Yes!”

“Hot babes for us men!”

“Preach it pastor!”

A hot babe? Yes! Yes! That was what he wanted, what his group wanted. Total jocks abstaining since forever, but now that they are legal, man did he just want to get married already and let loose, fulfil the calling on his life.

“Oh man I wish...I wish..”

Benjam squeezed his thighs as tight as he could. Rubbing against his smaller member as every brush only excited him further. The prayer session was simply too much for him to handle on his own. He had to say it, he had to-

“Brothers, You know what to do to seal the deal. Lead the way, Brother Shang.”

Paul got up from his place, but the warmth never left Benjam Shang’s side, his big brother figure trusted him in doing this, in spite of his young and fresh attitude which just pissed some of the older folks.

Its time for the younger generation to play a part in THIS-

“WE ARE CHRISTIANS!”

He yelled, in his youthful splendour. Pumping his fist in the hair, eyes still closed.

“WE ARE CHRISTIANS!”

The rest of his soccer group followed in suit, he knew that cause of their fellowship together of course.

They had stuck together since young in church, a close group which stuck like brothers through thick and thin. Through church camps, hang outs, and even the boring examinations he could not care less about.

As for as he was concerned, he had spiritual wisdom. Better than those overly intelligent NERDS!

“WE ARE HOT!”

“WE ARE HOT!”

He proclaimed, of course they were. They were the most popular group throughout high school. All the ladies wanted a piece of them, and all the GAYS were jealous.

Provoked to jealousy. Smirking to himself, cheekbones rising and rosy. He was always such a prankster, just light hearted stuff, nothing too GAY of course.

Though he doubted it was anything too far like some other of the ‘HetTubers’ did. Hair follicles brushing to the side, hair bangs over his brow as a raven feathery guy next door kind of look stuck on him, short hair of course-he was into sports and chicks said he looked cute with this style.

He was a Christian after all. Jaw rounding out while sharpening at the edges, with lips beaming into a smile, flashing bright pearly whites. He still represented God and even though he was mean sometimes with his ‘zoomer speech’, as the pastors would describe it, but hey-he was young and fresh!

“AND WE ARE GOING TO HAVE WIVES!”

“AND WE ARE GOING TO HAVE WIVES!”

The men inhaled deeply, nostrils wrinkling. Man it reeked of testosterone...They loved each other like brothers, but jocks needed their cheerleaders, husbands needed their wives. Not the smell of sports cologne.

They wanted to finish quick. At the final phase, light eyebrows furrowing, anticipating the climax with an-

“AMEN!”

“AMEN!”

“AMEN BROTHER!”

The new Benjamin Shang proudly proclaimed the chant, like the rest of the men. Boisterous Voices blending in harmoniously as a choir. Claps from the seniors applauded from the background, Paul was definitely pleased with him.

Letting loose their vocal chords like they just ‘came’ to be, of course nothing came out from below. Those were reserved specially for their wives, which they knew will be coming soon.

Beady eyes opening simultaneously staring around innocently as a college freshman, fresh and ready to chase-

CLICK

CLICK

Tail.

Almost instantaneously, his eyes were directed away from the group of men he was at. The rest of brothers followed as well, upon hearing the sound of high heels growing nearer. Laser focused on the single asian lady by the corridor.

“Look at her...she’s so pretty...”

[autumnrory]

i wanna preface this by saying im a fan of bucky but christ bucky is the manic pixie dream 2015 wattpad self insert protagonist type character of the mcu cap fandom and i 100% think its bc hes a hot white cis man who's enough of a blank slate for ppl to both obsessively over analyze every little moment he's in and to fill in all the blanks with whatever they want. im not bashing anyone or saying its necessarily wrong to have a blank slate but i wish ppl would just. calm down abt him a bit lmao

(also as a continuation of the bucky anon i just wanna say that this is like something ive noticed over years of being in the stevebucky fandom with how many ppl esp in fic and stuff just make steve play second fiddle in his own relationship and either dumb him down and mischaracterize him so bucky can be the Smartest Best Special Boy or make him an all forgiving saint with no needs or desires so he can be bucky's crutch)

oh my god that last bit about mischaracterizing steve and bucky being a saint sdfks YEAH it happens a lot, i think especially when there's some sort of steve/bucky/peggy love triangle in the mix

but yeah it did get frustrating at a point bc it was understandable post catws when ppl were writing fics and all they really had to draw from was catfa and the flashback in catws to draw from, and post catws bucky wasn't gonna be exactly like that version of himself, even if he was getting his memories back. but post cacw it's like, okay bucky HAS a personality - and fandom has been saying for years that he doesn't, like you are right that he's just enough of a blank slate to take some liberties, but he DOES have a personality in cw, the problem is more that bc it wasn't actually a captain america movie, steve himself didn't get as much focus so bucky especially didn't get as much as he might have if we'd gotten an ACTUAL cap 3 - so it's like. come on y'all can write him as a real person, you don't have to write him as being more in love with steve, you don't have to write him as a perfect angel who's So Good for loving steve despite whenever steve fucks up, which like, again, in fic are often kinda like, would steve be dumb in that way bc i don't think he would! obvs there are different ways to be smart but steve IS smart

i think part of it also has to do with sebastian and that's another thing that does kinda bug me. like let me be clear i do like sebastian and he is a fantastic actor, but he's one of those ones where ppl just yell about how he's the best actor and i don't think it's actually that he's performing better than most of the actors around him in the mcu, it's just that the character he's playing has all the trauma - as if the other characters don't, we just don't see much of it onscreen lmao - so ppl think that makes him more talented than everyone else (kinda think it was the same thing with dylan o'brien on teen wolf he'd shed a tear and ppl would yell about how he's the best actor in the world and fandom used that to push the main character of color to the side and forget about him in favor of the white sidekick ANYWAY that's bugged me forever though i can acknowledge my fave teen wolf ship is half dylan o'brien's character)

but yeah i think it's gotten somewhat worse since endgame bc fandom really loves the narrative that steve is terrible and selfish and bucky is an angel now, even though......y'all like bucky bc you were fans of the captain america trilogy so how can you buy into the idea that steve would do anything he did endgame. but like so many of those supposed fix it fics? would have steve going back to peggy for a WHILE and coming back to be with bucky - i skimmed one bc i was wary of the summary or tags or both and it was like steve came back as an old man and was like "yeah i spent my life with peggy and now i wanna start over and do it with you, you guys can just de-age me like you did with scott in the time machine :)" (as if that wasn't an accident would they even have been able to figure out how to do it on purpose??) that one was horrible - it's like, at that point, if you think steve sucks and bucky is a baby angel with no spine, why do you even want them to end up together? why on earth WOULD bucky be with steve after these kinds of actions? i don't get it

another thing, like i know sebastian outright said he played it like steve and bucky had had a conversation about going back in time - i think he said the directors told him they did like it's not onscreen! come on! i know you don't have to see everything onscreen but...actors/directors saying it doesn't make it canon - so like yeah obvs watching it, it looks like bucky knows about steve's plan before it's revealed to the audience - and hello, endgame steve straight up lied to everyone else about coming back after he returns the stones like how do y'all think it would be okay for him to ONLY tell bucky and not sam, his other best friend - but like idk, my thing is, just bc they said steve and bucky had a conversation, does not mean it's true, you could just make the argument that bucky knew what steve wanted enough to know what he would do - though let's be clear, the endgame ending is NOT what steve ever wanted in mcu canon lmao - it doesn't mean this conversation actually happened because why else would they re-exchange the "don't do anything stupid till i get back" thing if they both knew steve wasn't going to come back unless it was just for show, which still, like, they're the only ones who knew what they said to each other before bucky shipped out in catfa? anyway this bit probs wasn't relevant to anything you said but it BUGS me

anyway yeah i love bucky but you're exactly right about how fandom interprets him and his relationship with steve it's all just Annoying

[crqstalite]

Some thoughts on the clone from the Citadel DLC...It got a little long.

Kallan is the name chosen by Shepard (Kodelyn)’s clone for herself. EDI helped her with finding names for herself, Kallan meaning “powerful in battle” and Gautheir meaning “army ruler”.

After the absolute mess that was the Citadel DLC’s first act, Kallan was a bit of an unknown. Once Maya turned her back on her, she didn’t have any ties. No one in her corner to back her up, and about six months of combat expertise under her belt. Which made her dangerous (unlike the original, she’d always had her biotics and was trained to be a vanguard/adept), but also a bit of a blank slate. No memories, no personality. Just a carbon copy of Shepard down to the bone. Finding Shepard wasn’t as bad as Maya had made her out to be was definitely a bit earth shattering. She didn’t really have any motivations beyond becoming Shepard, but now having the chance to become her own person...it was all a little overwhelming.

She’s a quiet woman, largely spending her time observing the rest of the crew. Which is the freaky bit. She doesn’t quite understand them, just as much as they don’t understand her. She knows a lot, a little too much (after all, Maya put together the dossiers and knew way too much about Shepard’s various contacts), but beyond that, she’s not a social creature. She was never really taught to be. Humor will occasionally fly over her head, she’ll rarely pick up on tiny shifts in voice tones. Her mannerisms are just slightly skewed from Shepard’s.

And the question is, how do you regard a woman who looks exactly like your CO, but...isn’t? Or, well, she is, except she isn’t...

After all, they tend to mistake Kallan for Kodelyn multiple times anyway. There’s really no way to tell until they start talking, Kallan tends to speak rather clippedly. Short sentences comprised of basic thoughts, whereas Kodelyn is more expressive and tends to talk more. 

She tends to “cling” (in the most basic sense, socialize more with) to EDI. EDI’s less of an unknown to her, and fascinates her over all else. Forgoing Kodelyn’s siblings, she gets to know everyone else one by one. Liara interests her because they have the largest age gap, there’s so much more knowledge Liara has compared to Kallan that she’d listen for hours to the Asari talk about her research. Liara’s happy to half listening ears. Garrus because he (and Tali) can fill in a lot of the blanks she has about Shepard herself, and also his perspective on the galaxy. James for a similar reason, she doesn’t know much about the Alliance so he helps her out with her questions, That and they amuse each other, his humor rubs off on her and she tends to enjoy having him as a workout partner down the line. Tali’s one of the most friendly to her, the quarian is the reason Kallan is somewhat invested into Fleet and Flotilla.

She doesn’t know what to make of Javik on first glance. His cycle quips don’t really hit as they should with her, after all, again, she’s very young in terms of knowledge. Her attachment to this “cycle” isn’t very strong to begin with, so any insults really mean nothing to her. His introspection is quite interesting to her though. Maybe her silence just unsettles him. She’s Shepard, but also not Shepard. He didn’t have clones in his cycle.

Miranda is...fascinated that Kallan is even alive to begin with. I’m not sure either of them know what to make of the other. After all, one built the other. Miranda didn’t intend for Kallan to live, but she didn’t need the organs Kallan would’ve had to rebuild Kodelyn. Kallan isn’t exactly hurt by it. But at the same time, both of them are essentially clones. Both of them are products of science, one just had years upon years to pursue her desires and become a person.

Kallan is most unsettled by Kaidan. Originally, she was meant to replace Shepard entirely. Slip into her life undetected. Kaidan was the one she had the most files on, after Maya confirmed Kodelyn had taken a liking to him. And...really she can see why. He’s not bad on the eyes. Yet, now that she’s allowed to be herself, (whatever that means) and interact with the crew as she saw fit, the files had nothing on him. Not really. They didn’t mention the way he smiled at Kodelyn, it didn’t mention how naturally it seemed they fit together. Would she have been able to do it? Slip into his life, the one he was slowly rebuilding with her, when it seems like he notices every little thing? She doubts it. He’s such a kind soul that she feels...sort of terrible. Second handedly, since she never went through with it, but to disrupt what her original and Kaidan have feels like it would’ve been a grave mistake. He wouldn’t have deserved that.

Are they friends? Well. She doesn’t know. She’s not sure how to answer that. She can shake off the small part of her that felt forced to become romantically involved with him, and start from the beginning. She starts with apologizing for saying he should’ve died on Virmire, right off the bat. She doesn’t know Ashley, Maya didn’t make a file on her, but surely Kaidan can’t be part of Kodelyn’s regrets. He has every right to be equally unsettled by her presence, but they do learn to coexist eventually. Later, she really doesn’t think she could’ve pulled off being Kodelyn The Girlfriend. Not because of his personality...well a little bit because of his personality. It doesn’t mesh well with her having...none.

A day or two before the party, Kallan ends up getting a haircut. A little drastic, but an undercut and dark red hair. When asked, she shrugs. She doesn’t know why, she just wants to stop being mistaken for Shepard. Its freeing, she thinks. The only pair of clothes she has is a dark shirt and jeans she wears with combat boots. Joker calls it a bit boring, to which he tries to rescind, but she does offer a chuckle.

No one expected her to laugh.

On the battlefield though, the few missions before they head out to Cerberus HQ, Kallan is Very much different from Kodelyn’s style of fighting. She doesn’t rely on cover, in fact she prefers her barrier to anything else she could hide behind. Up close and personal is exactly how she likes it. It’s not unusual to see her bright blue corona flying across the field every couple of seconds. Kallan was outfitted with an L5n, same as Kodelyn, but it meshed much better with Kallan’s nervous system than Shepard’s. Hence her upped skill ceiling.

After the war, Kallan is effectively left to her own devices. She has a galaxy to explore that’s finally opened up to her, and she isn’t entirely sure what to do with it. Large, foreboding, but also full of life.

Perfect, in a way.

( x x x x x x x x )

[grandpasessions]

'There was nothing left for us here, everyone I knew felt reluctantly guilty for feeling lost, as if being lost was hesitantly, but most definitively, part of who they were.' 'The atomization had gone further than anyone ever thought it would, our own identities had fragmented into various abstractions of consumption; brands, shops, sexualities, traits, habits, software stacks, video games, TV series, cinematic universes, foreign food, reading lists, alternative spiritualities, ironic adherence to tradition, theological LARPing, this is what remained, ashes of reality scattered into the simulacrum for us to pick and choose from. Every morsel of personality and ego had become tethered to a commodifiable life-choice. I no longer knew any-one, only assemblages of pithy statements, purchases, and vices; what was anyone except a culmination of their hedonistic desires and shallowly pronounced social virtues?' 'Once your understanding has been replaced everything else falters rather sharply; meaning in general collapses and everything is transferred into a system of third-party checking, as opposed to personal investigation and belief. Nothing felt as if it were ever mine, nor as if I'd ever earned it, and that's because what was earned was backed by nothing.' '... It just did not stop, not for a moment; the clearest symptom of modernity is that all time was to be filled, and it didn't matter what filled it, as long as there was continual noise, static to be utilized as ignorance of [a] cosmic predicament.' 'Can it be considered sleepwalking if it encapsulates one's entire life? If one is asleep for the entire [e.d], then that quickly becomes one's reality.' 'The reason people purchased things relied on another abstract reason ad infinitum; the reason people did anything likewise relied on the will of another, rarely did one witness a man take it upon himself to act, buy or say something which arose from his wellspring of authenticity, there was always something else controlling his strings. And that's what modernity is, a material labyrinth of puppet-masters who are all interconnected and cordial, a multiplicity of effects trying to hide their causes, because once you get to the cause you can start to question it, until that moment of apprehension, anything you attempt to grasp immediately disappears. At all turns, man is left with another turn.' 'There is a difference between knowledge and understanding and the academy laps up the former without paying a moment's notice to the latter. To understand something is to take one's time, it is to draw its breath, and potentially act in accordance; the academy is bodies without souls, vessels to be filled, and upgraded. Graduate, post-graduate, and lecturer are beings of their own kind, molded by the suffocating atmosphere of strict interpretation. How can one talk of interpretation if there is only one?' 'I could not stand the paths I needed to take to supposedly acquire that which I desired, what I desired among all things, or so I believe at the time, was to gain an understanding of the world which allowed contentment, a teleology towards a personal peace. ... into the heart of familiarity I desired to go.' 'To think for oneself had become increasingly difficult, every structure and institution since birth had been constructed in such a way as to covertly remove all personal responsibility for individuals, and from there had since set up a monopoly where a heart and vision once laid.' 'The plan was a form of neo-asceticism, strip it all back; throw it back in their faces by way of refusal.' 'And therefore those who took interest were these [weird, odd, strange, peculiar] things also, and as such, status did the rest; eventually, all that came of the academy was an acceptance of those alike those accepting, dry, strained, professional and meek; I could call it a racket, but that would be too exciting, for its reality was one of a waiting room, the texts I once loved became cheap magazines strewn over its floor whilst I waited for my bureaucratically monitored acceptability rating.' '... one should only laugh at those who proclaim that truth is on the side of misery, for what can misery be but only understood as a solely human affair; the cosmos doesn't understand misery as much as we don't understand the passions of a boulder. To align misery, suffering, and decay with an abstract bleaker-than-thou truth is to make the same anthropocentric errors as those which you proclaim to hate. Many, myself included, wish there was more horror, for at least then there would be interest in the world.' 'To betray the pro-herd is to revere the anti-herd.' 'What the herd yearns for is not a life, but a pen. Who could blame them? With a pen comes purpose, something easy to moan about. Lyotard was right in Libidinal Economy when he declared that the working-class desire their subjugation - 'the English unemployed did not become workers to survive, they - hand me tight and spit on me - enjoyed the hysterical, masochistic, whatever exhaustion it was of hanging on in the mines, in the foundaries, in the factories, in hell, they enjoyed it, enjoyed the mad destruction of their organic body which was indeed imposed upon them, they enjoyed the decomposition of their personal identity. ... man finds his meaning in the collective in the very same way he finds meaning in masochism, by perpetually perusing his mandatory service, he seeks a greater and greater denial of his desire and potential. Yet, even if he were to go looking for it he'd be too scared to confront it.' 'This is what is comforting about the collective for your common drone, the ongoing, incessant, and indulgent whining and moaning, the oh-so-cumbersome depressions and anxieties brought about by the most minor of stresses and tensions, the adherence to a blank slate of tranquility and extravagance a priori. Lo-and-behold the user finds a shit-smeared socius, bulging at the seams with repressions, constraints, containments, rules, laws, taxes, usury, masters, cutbacks, limitations, diminutions, and attentuations, all of which are gorged upon by willing individuals, not in moments of begrudging compliance, but as purpose, as meaning.' 'I had no connection to nature, to family, to tradition, to root or stem, I was -- as all are now -- my own personal atom of modern ecstasy, economics, and envy. You could state with ease that this was some form of nihilism personal to me, or my immediate surroundings, except it wasn't, that's not how nihilism works. Nihilism is behind it all, there is the gloss of objects and apparel and the illusion of the subject. ... If there is such a thing as nihilism it's so indiscernible from the actions of the average modern man that it eventually begs no division of definition.' 'Where everyone was headed was precisely nowhere, but this too was an empty truism that helped precisely no one.' 'Also, one must cast off all material pleasures, a feat easily achieved for it feels like a virtue, but one must too cast off all material sufferings, the ones they most enjoy, depression, anxiety, malaise, melancholy and despair, those sufferings which are so indulged in on an almost constant basis, so much so that they covertly become pleasures; there's little meaning for modern man other than a common depression; Oh, the suffering! Oh, the despair! Oh spare me your shivers and whines and submit your body to all that is chthonic.' 'I found nothing that could offer me suffering, let alone relief or contentment.' 'I had burned through life's most basic settings at the rate of modern man in overdrive; I wanted more of the more. This had left me feeling alienated and lonely and listless. People who want something have a direction, those who have lost something do too, any cessation can give man meaning rather quickly, but what about an apathetic cessation of apathy brought about by apathy?'

The Methodology of Possession // James Ellis

[tsaomengde]

So, it's been a month, and I have finished Cyberpunk 2077. Time was I would have chewed the game up and spat it back out in less than a week, but now I have children and a house to run. I'm not here to talk about the conditions of its release, the human cost, the et cetera. I'm just here to give my thoughts on the game.  If you want a spoiler-free review, here it is: thanks to my mother-in-law for buying it for me for Christmas. If I'd paid money for it I might have been disappointed. As it was, I had a perfectly fine time. Spoilers follow. (Also spoilers for Witcher 3, which is more than five years old now.)

Let's get this out of the way: should the game have been more progressive? Well, yes, but here's another question: what the fuck is cyberpunk even supposed to be? After all, initially, punk itself was created to sell leather jackets and records, and its defining trait was being subversive. It wasn't about being progressive, just offensive, about bucking whatever Standards there were. It's been refined, and redirected, but there's a reason 'Nazi punk' is a thing.

I personally wasn't expecting this game to be a bastion of progressive thought just because it has the word 'punk' in it. They should have done better by people who wanted to play trans or nonbinary characters. They should have done better with a lot of things. But they should have done those things because that's just what we should expect as people who engage critically with media, not because the game has the word 'punk' in the label. Was I sitting there shaking my head at the fact that V can work with the police? No. You're a mercenary, you go where the money is. The game wasn't advertised as an Antifa 2077 simulator, it was advertised as an RPG where you play the role of a merc who will do pretty much anything for that cash.

Here's the other question: is it cyberpunk? I say no. Cyberpunk as a genre is about human beings trapped in exploitative systems which commodify everything, even our bodies, and the lengths we have to go to in those systems to remain human - or not. The game has a lot of stuff in it showing this commodification and exploitation of everything, including our humanity, but it doesn't really have much to say about it. There are no significant choices in the story about how many pieces of yourself you're willing to cut away for power. Fill up every slot with cyberware or play as natural as possible, makes no difference at all to the story or the endings you get.

So it’s not really cyberpunk. That’s fine, a game can not be a thing and still be good. What’s the story, then? The story is about V (who is supposedly you, but they definitely are a distinct entity unto themselves, this is not a blank-slate Bioware situation) and Johnny Silverhand, and who is going to end up occupying the brain they’re forced to share for a while because of an experimental personality-upload chip that gets lodged in there too good to remove. Johnny Silverhand is an asshole version of Keanu Reeves, and I happened to really like his performance. A lot of people didn’t. That’s down to YMMV. Having finished the story and gone online to read about the endings I didn’t get, I feel that it’s… fine. They give you a decent number of ways to address the issue. I was more invested in the side stories with people like Judy and Panam than I was in the Big Plot, though I definitely warmed a lot to Johnny and Rogue near the end.

I never got the Big Feels, though. Like, Witcher 3? I agonized over the amazing chemistry Geralt had with both Yen and Triss, and had serious debates with myself over who to romance, because I may be a slut, but I’m ethical, dammit. I got big sad when Geralt found Ciri, thought she was dead, and just collapsed in on himself. I got even bigger sad when Vesemir died, and felt very vindicated when I murdered the dude that killed him. All of this from a game whose predecessors I didn’t even play! Cyberpunk never hit the same highs for me.  The most invested I ever was in a mission chain, by the way, was the one where the plot goes full Ghost in the Shell with memory editing and "what is a personality really" and truly vast conspiracies, and then the chain ends and just kind of peters out and you're back to all the other stuff that isn't Ghost in the Shell.  So that was... not great.

What about the *game* part though? Is it awesome? Does it suck?  I mean, the game is also fine. The gunplay feels alright, alright enough that I definitely regretted my initial desire to be a katana ninja person and went pretty hard into guns by the end. I give it credit for the systems being robust enough to support that kind of mid-game playstyle pivot.  The melee is deeper than it’s been in other games, but uh… look, I’m pretty sure Jedi Knight: Dark Forces 2 had better-feeling melee combat, and that game came out over 23 years ago. Might have something to do with the fact that you had an option to switch to a GODDAMN THIRD-PERSON CAMERA. After seeing the story and playing the game and doing the stuff I am prepared to Pronounce on this, and my Pronouncement is that the first-person camera definitely is more immersive, particularly given the story they wanted to tell, and perhaps you should stick with it during cutscenes if that’s your jam, but Goddamn, give us the third-person mode for melee. Anyway, the game, yeah. The stealth is cookie-cutter basic. The hacking minigame is dumb, and the hacking itself is useful, but underwhelming.

What about the vehicles? What about them indeed? I got a motorcycle from one of the first side quests after the world opens up and never used anything else. Everything drives like shit, but at least the motorcycles let me weave through traffic and get those rare glimpses of the toon I spent an hour carefully creating. Of course, most of the time, she would look ridiculous, since you have to continually equip whatever latest thing gives you the most armor, and there’s no transmog, so it’s only at the very end of the game where you *maybe* stop looking like an extra who wandered off of the set of a quirky indie film about near-future hip-hop dancers.

What about the city? Yes, it’s an enormous open world and it’s crazy detailed and there’s so much to do and so many icons to visit, but look, they didn’t need to go this hard. They could have told this story without a GTA-style open world. They could have told this story with Deus Ex-sized hub areas. Perhaps then the game wouldn’t have taken eight Goddamn years to make and destroyed so many poor Polish game developers’ lives.

I’m a thousand words in and I feel like I could write several thousand more, but let’s wrap it up. Here it is: did the 64.6 hours I put into the game entertain me? Yes, but I was ready to be done well before the point of no return, and still I kept hitting up all the side character stuff because I was invested in them. Am I going to play it again? Not right away, no. I’ll wait and see what DLC they drop, what bugs they fix. I have other games to play, and other things to do. And most tellingly, for this past month, I have never been doing real-life adult stuff and just been thinking the entire time, “I could be playing Cyberpunk right now.” I would play it when I sat down and felt I had sufficient time for something more involving than a run in Hades or Slay the Spire. It did not get hooks in me the way the Greats have done.

Cyberpunk: not a whimper, but not a bang either.