#And I’m sure others and future worshippers would not like to have their experiences ruined

[coconut530]

A few Vesselette/Espera mask references I google searched so Sleep Token artists don’t have to ❤️

[somethingironicallycool]

Let’s talk about cults- a letter to witchblr

You probably know me from this blog or perhaps from @desertandstorm or maybe you just never heard of me. The point is, I used to consider myself magically inclined. Unfortunately, it’s been ruined for me. People always say that you never expect to join one and honestly that is incredibly true! These people were my friends and my mentors, I never knew it would blow up in my face like that.  When we think of spiritual safety, people on this site most often bring up spirits or herb safety, never fully touching on the topic of the overlap of covens vs. cults. I don’t blame them, it is truly a messy subject to properly handle without convincing someone all covens are cults (which is absolutely not true) So here’s my go at it based off of my experiences RED FLAGS

They’re pushy about their beliefs 

They try and separate you from the “others”

Slander other groups

proclaim they’re the only right

“nobody else knows what they’re doing”

Something about them just always has to be one step ahead 

The head of the coven can’t accept criticism 

Denial of problems

Conflicting info and logical fallacies 

This is iffy but casual godphoning of several gods and goddesses especially ones that they just started working with

Invasive actions such as unwanted readings and spells

(goes with the last one) refusal to take responsibility 

Gaslighting and other forms of emotional manipulation

treat you special when you first join

leave you in the dust after you lose your novelty

(please feel free to add more in reblogs)

you feel like you’re failing them somehow

your mental health worsens because of them

COMMON MISCONCEPTIONS

This list is based off of my own struggles I’m still trying to come to grips with

Cults are only physical!

I got snagged by a Discord server. They can be anywhere where you are vulnerable.

Cult leaders are creepy old dudes

The ring leader was a dude in college. They can also start off as your friends. Cults exist to take advantage, there is no set way for them to appear

Aren’t cults like devil worshippers?

No, we were a diverse group who all didn’t share practices. (I’m a pop pagan and no one else was)

It’s so obvious

While I knew something was wrong, it wasn’t until after I left and someone pointed it out I realized what I was in. 

Isn’t the damage physical? like brandings and shit

No, the damage was very much psychological and spiritual. While I believe someone did carve their arm under the influence of a leader, nothing physical happened to me. However, I can’t touch Aphrodite, Lilith, or Loki related things given their current associations. I can’t even worship Set now because I feel... dirty, like I was such a fool. 

WHAT TO DO

once more based off of my experiences if someone would like to add advice for physical situations please do 

Assess your situation

if they hit a good amount of red flags, they’re probably a cult

if they hit a few red flags, they’re a toxic group

Leave 

Cult or toxic group it doesn’t matter. They showed red flags, it isn’t worth it.

You’re going to feel alone, it’s ok. It’s ok to feel alone after all that time. You aren’t alone in that.  

Cut ties

Delete all related social media you used pertaining to the group

Make sure to work backwards so they can’t trace you 

Delete everything that could’ve touched your tumblr or discord or however else you were in contact. 

If you can’t delete certain accounts, change the username/ profile pic/ description and lock it down to private 

Pick a new internet handle to go under for awhile and don’t tell people your old name. fae rules. 

Lay low around the spiritual community and don’t try and interact unless it’s with people you trust 

Breathe

It’s ok.

I’m serious we’ll get over this

To those struggling right now, you are strong you are brave

I know it’s so hard to feel like you’re so small that everything you did was lies, but please don’t let your work go to waste. Your first reaction will probably be to destroy your previous alters or delete all your journal posts, but just hold on to them. Save them for later you might be surprised. 

Your pain is valid 

Closing thoughts

Quite frankly, I miss spirituality. I miss the community it brought. I miss the Dolorosa and working with Sutekh. I am beyond pissed that was forcibly taken from me, and even now, slowly but surely, I am trying to make my way back to where I was. Before making this post, I was ashamed. So horribly ashamed of myself and just filled with disgust and hatred. I also used to worship Aphrodite and to see her have been made a mockery of just breaks my heart

and its ok. 

I accept my normal now wasn’t the normal before. To expect my mind to just ignore everything that happened is stupid. That isn’t what healing is. Healing is... acceptance. Not of what happened, but of yourself. I will honor those that I used to by honoring myself and striving to create my own future free from those that wish me harm. 

[hualianff]

Distant Faces

The Lonely (Instrumental) – Christina Perri

After much deliberation, HC finally decides what to give XL on his birthday: a painted portrait of XL and his parents during Xianle’s most prosperous days. Even though HC tries his best not to remember his life during those times, he knows XL loved his parents despite how everything turned out. 

It’s been over 800 years, after all. 

XL had offhandedly mentioned he can’t even remember the details of his parents’ faces anymore. The way his mother’s eyes shone chocolate brown in the sunlight; the way his father scowled in disapproval but never in a malicious manner. The way his mother held him when he felt sad, let him cry on her shoulder. The way his father looked proudly upon XL as his son.

Admittedly, XL had a complex relationship with his father. They didn’t always see eye-to-eye, especially towards Xianle’s inevitable deterioration. XL can cry because he misses his mother, but with his father, it’s more than that.

It’s regret.

It’s shame.

It’s anguish for the tension that kept his father at a distance that now seems insignificant.

But being the kind of person XL is, he’d rather remember the positive aspects of his relationship with his parents than the hardships.

Especially because he feels like he failed them in the end.

HC cannot relate to XL’s experience of having loving parents who genuinely cared for him, much less the loss of such parents. An abandoned child like himself had to bear the burden of living from a young age. HC did not grow up nurtured or fawned over; HC endured his cruel existence by looking after himself. 

After meeting XL again after his third ascension, HC now knows what it’s like to be loved–fiercely and unconditionally. To imagine losing XL gives HC a palpable semblance of what XL felt when he woke up completely alone on the day his parents passed. Over the decades, XL has briefly talked about that day, though never in full detail. Partially because XL’s mind has blocked out the trauma, but it is also simply too painful to remember.

Originally, HC heavily debated whether gifting his husband the portrait was even a good idea. The last thing he would want to do is upset or offend XL. HC wasn’t even sure he could properly replicate the king and queen’s faces.

Ultimately, HC decided to go through with his plan. He hopes that if anything, this painting can help XL recall his parents’ faces and the fond memories he had with them. Perhaps it could serve as an outlet for healing from the years XL suffered on his own. Everything HC does is for the happiness of his husband.  

After going through one of his earliest memories via his butterflies, HC spent days sketching, outlining, and painting the portrait. He miraculously managed to portray the details as accurately as possible—MQ and FX themselves confirmed. The two heavenly officials failed to hide their teary eyes, MQ abruptly turning away while FX furiously rubbed at his cheeks. It’s one of the few instances HC holds his tongue when around the two martial gods.

There is no shortage of people who celebrate XL’s birthday when it arrives—heavenly officials, Ghost City, and worshippers alike. HC spends the entire day by his husband’s side, visiting as many festivals to witness the joyous ceremonies. Worshippers place extra lavish offerings on their altars while XL’s friends personally deliver their gifts at Puqi Shrine. (The designated location for heavenly officials.)

Once it’s evening and the festivities have calmed down, only two remain inside Puqi Shrine. HC has taken the liberty to cook a quick meal for them to share. He ladles soup into XL’s bowl, then scoops rice topped with fried fish onto his plate. 

“Thank you for making us dinner, San Lang. It looks delicious,” XL says, eyes sparkling. HC smiles warmly.

“I would be a fool to not spoil Gege with wonderful food, regardless if it’s his birthday or not,” HC solemnly says. “Though I do hope he enjoys the fish and soup.”

“There are no doubts about that,” XL replies before eagerly spooning some broth into his mouth. His eyes visibly widen as he sputters a bit, spoon lowering back into the bowl. “Oh, that’s hot!”

“Careful, gege. Allow this dutiful husband to blow on it.”

They finish eating with satisfied slurps and chewing, keeping casual conversation between bites. Before XL can get up to clear off the table, HC snaps his fingers, every dish already washed and placed back in the cabinets. 

They are finally alone, energy spent and stomachs no longer empty. HC’s eyes shift to the corner of the room where a covered, flat object is propped against the wall. 

“Gege, I have one last present for you.”

“That’s been here this whole time? Wow, it’s so big!”

HC doubts himself even as he hands over the wrapped gift. He watches with bated breath as XL carefully works open the covering with nimble fingers to reveal what’s inside.

Once XL sees the entire painting in all its glory, his hand flies over his mouth. His initial excited smile upon tearing away the wrapping paper is replaced with a tense frown, the type when someone is trying their best not to cry. 

A ragged sob escapes his lips.

XL can’t stop staring at their faces—his parents’ faces—who he hasn’t seen in centuries. Who he never got to say goodbye to. He touches the canvas, paints dried and glossed over with a finishing product that gives the image a sleek sheen. He touches their familiar faces, pleasant smiles etched onto their lips, and then his own, placed between his father and mother, smiling widely: happy.

XL hugs the canvas to his body, closing his eyes, and cries his heart out.

HC’s heart shatters at the sight of XL breaking down, though it was almost a guaranteed reaction. He doesn’t hesitate to rush forward to embrace his beloved from behind, nuzzling against XL’s temple as his smaller body trembles uncontrollably. But before HC can express his pitiful apology, he hears quiet, repetitive mumbling among XL’s broken sobs.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Gege-”

“Thank you.”

“-breathe, my love.”

“Thank you.”

Over and over again. Nearly nonsensical through ragged chokes and desperate gasps for air. HC shakes his head as tears wet his own cheeks, as if to say a thank you was not needed. He rubs up and down XL’s arm, occasionally pausing to massage his neck, anything to comfort him in his sorrow. XL suddenly grasps onto HC’s wrist, an anchor from the barrage of overwhelming emotions washed over him over the last few minutes.

HC eventually rasps out a remorseful, “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what for exactly. For triggering XL’s tears. For the death of XL’s parents. For the loneliness and grief XL has experienced and never had the proper closure to.

XL continues weeping without a sound. For the fear of ruining the portrait with his tears, XL carefully places the painting on the table. He gives the painting one last lookover, lower lip wobbling. XL bites his lip to suppress the whimper threatening to erupt from his throat. 

How could he ever forgive himself?

“Me too,” a son whispers to his parents. 

Half an hour later, XL and HC are situated in their bed at Paradise Manor. Per XL’s request, HC skillfully hung the painting up next to their wedding portrait. Two pieces juxtapose two different eras; one, a window to the past; the other, a relic that will remain timeless.

Someday in the future, XL will have the strength to commemorate his parents with more than just a fleeting prayer. He will describe them with words and stories that do them justice. He will honor their legacy not by following in their footsteps (for they have long disappeared against the force of time), but by practicing the values they bestowed upon him while simultaneously learning from their faults and mistakes.

However, for tonight, HC wraps XL in a snug blanket burrito, holding XL from behind as the former prince mourns in silence. HC doesn’t push his beloved. He merely squeezes XL’s hand to remind him he has someone to listen to him. The last thing XL requests before falling asleep is another portrait of his parents, this time with both him and HC sat in the middle. 

“Father...Mother...if you could see me now...see how happy I am,” XL tiredly thinks, sleep beckoning him to surrender to the darkness. “You guys really...would have loved him.”

(Special thanks to @no-one-says-hi and @iaintnosidekick for listening/helping)

(Inspiration)