#Seeker Pathway

[tysaescorner]

get ready for some merch posts. here we go

[ailelie]

Circumvention of Lawful Pathways

Deadline to Submit Public Comment: March 27, 2023

The Gist (as far as I understand it):

The Department of Homeland Security and Department of Justice have proposed a new rule that will limit asylum seekers.

According to this rule, people seeking asylum at the US's southern border will be determined ineligible unless:

the individual is granted parole prior to arrival,

presented themselves at a port of entry through a pre-scheduled time and place, or

sought asylum or other protection in a country they traveled through and received a final denial

The rule also relies heavily on an app of all things: CBP One. The app requires Internet access to function and there have been reports of how buggy it is (e.g, it does not recognize black faces). This is the app asylum seekers require, though, if they want to make an appointment to satisfy the second bullet above.

There are some exceptions to using the app, but they're narrow and require the asylum seeker to come up with a 'preponderance of evidence' to get the app usage waived.

Unaccompanied minors are exempt.

The rule is only supposed to last 2 years, but there's allowances for review, extension, and modification.

If you agree this rule is shitty, you can submit a public comment.

Your comment must be unique. Duplicates will get collapsed into one and only count as one comment.

Click where it says 'comment.'

The form is super easy to follow and fill out. No weird boxes to check or anything like that. It took me about 5 minutes.

Some tips:

Be clear in your opening that you OPPOSE the rule.

Provide a reason (e.g., against my faith to be welcoming to others, against domestic and international law to protect the right to seek asylum, provides an unnaturally high barrier for asylum, relies on faulty technology).

That's it. Here's some sites talking about this if you want more info:

American Immigration Lawyers Association

International Affairs Forum

National Immigrant Justice Center

Asian Americans Advancing Justice

Evangelical Lutheran Church in America

Catholic Legal Immigration Network

(Even the Heritage Foundation doesn't like this rule. Of course, their reasoning is very different, but they also call for people to oppose the rule. So strange bedfellows, no?)

[usadvlottery]

Embark on a compassionate journey into the heart of the USA Visa Program, where Asylum and Refugee Status serve as beacons of hope for those escaping persecution. Explore the humanitarian facets and legal intricacies of these protective pathways, providing a lifeline to individuals seeking sanctuary on American soil. Uncover the stories of resilience, the rigorous application processes, and the commitment of the United States to offer refuge to those fleeing adversity. Join us in grasping the profound impact of Asylum and Refugee Status, reflecting America's dedication to compassion, justice, and the promise of a fresh start for those in need.

[muntitled]

Ready or not | Park Sunghoon

-' Pairings: Park Sunghoon x Fem!Reader

-' Summary: He volunteered to be seeker. That should've been your first warning. The hungry look that had begun brimming in his eyes should've been the second.

-' Warnings: Language, Horror Elements, Established Relationship, Very Slight Fluff, Hide and Seek, Smut +18 mdni, Primal Kink, Fear Kink, Breeding Kink, Slight dd/lg, Praise Kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Spit, Cum play, Choking, Rough Sex, CNC, Hard Dom!Hoon, Desperate Sex, Public Sex, Sub!Reader, Subspace, Unprotected Sex

A/n: My contribution to spooky season

“I don't wanna play anymore,” You don't say it too loudly, lest you give yourself and your hiding spot away.

“I really, really don't wanna play anymore, Hoonie-”

A chuckle cracks through the dark night air.

"Hoonie," you hear his voice snicker from in between the shadows. "Cute." It's far. Not anywhere in your immediate vicinity. Where you are, it's just tall oak trees and stars.

A squirrel decides at that moment to scuttle over your sneakers and cause a very audible gasp to rip itself out of your throat. Through the crooked trees you hear a laugh. His laugh.

"Too easy," his voice reaches your ears.

Sunghoon isn't here. He hasn't found you yet. That brings you the first sliver of comfort that you cling to with everything in you. It allows you to trek further uphill. The little lights they've paved along the hiking trail serves as your only navigator through the woods. You want nothing more than to be there, in the light, but even you knew that would be an insanely stupid move. You would illuminate yourself to him. He'd find you immediately. You had far too much pride for that.

'I don't wanna play anymore-'

Perhaps you were hoping by repeating the phrase over and over again, that Sunghoon would magically get the desire to end this wretched game, but even as you travelled up the rocky hill, away from the bench where Sunghoon had been counting dutifully, you knew it was an impossible ask.

He was the seeker and he was counting excitedly, with a smile on his face.

The duty of the seeker, as far as you know, had always been the least desired. Being tasked with the responsibility of finding everyone else and being ostracised from the rest of the group- made to be a monster they all hid from? It sounded horrible to the brain of any rational human being.

Your bones rattle with discomfort when you realise that your boyfriend didn't particularly fit into that category.

As you try to venture deeper into the woods, away from your Seeker's approaching footfalls, you think back to a time in the evening before you weren't so cracked with fear. Everything had been perfect then.

It seemed like the perfect conditions to take a romantic walk along the hiking trail with your boyfriend. The hiking trail leads into a deep and dense patch of wooded land behind Sunghoon's apartment. Tall trees surrounding you both. The path leading uphill, on a winding, uneven road. At that time, the sun had just begun sinking behind the trees, but you could make out Sunghoon's features from the little lamps that lined the pathway.

You had been walking hand-in-hand, feeling quite secure, feeling starkly not-scared.

Suppose it was your fault.

Sunghoon had asked if you were sure you wanted to take a walk with him in the dark and you swung your clasped hands between the two of you, bringing it to your lips as you said, "You say that like you're something to fear-"

As you walked, he had watched you with a bashful kind of smile that was only exclusive to Sunghoon- fangs shining in the moonlight as he pulled his jacket over your shoulders. He liked having you wear his clothes, especially in public.

A dismaring, cute kind of smile that drew you in initially.

"Plus," you stood on your tippy toes as you whispered into his ear, "I don't really mind being scared."

"Is that so?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow as you continued to observe the nature surrounding you both with an innocent, oblivious quality. He liked that. He liked how you always managed to see the world through a pink stained lense. A world of puppies, rainbows, faeries, princesses- all that shit.

It caused something horrible to stir inside him. Something that wanted to take the innocence he saw bursting forth from your eyes and crush it. He wanted you to see him. To perhaps look at him with that fear you spoke so highly of. "You like the feeling of being scared?"

"Eung!" You nodded, still watching the tips of the trees reaching towards the stars.

"Wow-" he had said, "Spoken like a true crazy person-" you shoved into his side, a very deep frown setting over your glossed lips. Your braids were let loose, easy access for Sunghoon to pull on one as he continued his teasing.

"Don't call me that-"

"It's okay- I like having a weirdo girlfriend-" you loosened your fingers, sulking and ready to turn your back on a cackling Sunghoon and head back from whence you came but he kept your hands locked in his.

"You really enjoy it?" He asked, stopping at a bench on the side of the trail, "being scared, I mean… Do you actually like it?'

"Uh-" you had begun feeling thoroughly exposed under his gaze. He watched you like you were something to be inspected. His sharp eyes peeled you apart. Sunghoon, towering over you didn't really help the feeling so you beckoned him to sit down. He did, with a heavy plop, his black shirt and black sweatpants billowing from the warm wind. He opened his legs, allowing you to slot yourself between them. Even sitting down, Sunghoon didn't need to look up at you. He was so large and all-encompassing. It made you feel so small.

"I mean doesn't everyone!?" You evaded Sunghoon's gaze but he kept his train on you.

“No,” he responds, suddenly very interested in this topic. You haven't been dating for long enough to disclose kinks yet. The farthest you've both done is establish safe words. Every facet of your relationship was gleaming under the veneers of unexplored territory.

He didn't think you liked being scared.

He didn't think he'd be happy to know this. He keeps his face stoic though, giving nothing away.

"That's why horror movies exist, right?"

A short breath came from Sunghoon's mouth as he finally broke eye contact, seating back against the bench, "That's why horror movies exist. I thought-" He turned his head to look at your hand before meeting your eyes again, his face as blank as a canvas.

"You thought what?" He asks, willing you to carry on talking. Sunghoon has tunnel vision. Whenever you spoke, the only thing he was physically and cognitively able to focus on is you.

"I thought horror movies were like-” you kick a dead leaf on the ground “-Like edgier comfort shows. Like, Gilmore Girls or something-" That sentence completely knocked him out.

"You just compared horror movies to Gilmore Girls-"

Sunghoon wiped his sweaty hands on his shorts "Interesting, well- we should play a game to test this theory,"

Your eyebrows crinkled. "What kinda game?"

"Relax-" Sunghoon said as he waved a hand before his face. "No one would get hurt, not unless you wanted to-" there were a great many things Sunghoon said that completely threw you for a loop. This was one such statement.

You were used to it by now. The backhanded airy, fairy comments Sunghoon made under his breath.

You wouldn't be surprised if he had whole other conversations with just himself. Like he was in constant conversation with a voice in his own head

The sun had completely set and a jogger passed by the two of you in that moment, the final jogger you would see tonight.

"Hide and seek. You hide." he continued as if unaware that he was giving you a very visceral sense of whiplash. "Don't stray too far and keep your eye on the trail so you don't get lost, okay?"

"What-"

"I wanna make it 30 seconds, but I'll be nice and make it 60-"

"Wait Sunghoon, I'm wearing a dress-"

"You'll manage." He pushes you away slightly.

"Hoon-"

A chuckle as he says, "Baby, you better start hiding. Don't you know how to play-"

"Sunghoon, I don't wanna play,"

"One."

You were backing away as you stared at him and he stared at you. Sunghoon leant forward, planting his elbows on his knees as his hands swung between his open legs. "Two."

“ i don't wanna-"

"Three-"

A rock jabs into your calf as you stumble up the incline. Sunghoon nods. "That's it-" and before he closes his eyes, he shoots you one last charming smile. Only this time it's veneered with something much darker, something that has you turning and lunging uphill.

"Run," he said.

He volunteered to be a seeker. That should've been your one and only warning. The hungry look that had begun brimming in his eyes should've been the second warning.

Your thigh begins to ache as Sunghoon concludes his counting with an airy and bright, "Ready or not!" You can hear him snickering to himself, "You know the rest," before the sound of his heavy footfalls crunches over fallen leaves.

It was a warm and humid autumn night.

Your heart was thumping to the beat of your heavy footsteps beating down on the short grass. There was an eerie sense of solidity that sunk over the park during late nights like these, and the moon is your only spectator.

What ought to have been a harmless game of hide and seek quickly turned into a slightly disturbing rendition of the thing. As soon as you ran out into the woods, away from where Sunghoon was counting, a sense of dread had quickly began pooling in the bottom of your stomach especially when you looked around and realised you were quite literally standing in the middle of a hiking trail, at night with you boyfriend who is far too eager to play this game.

"I'm going to get you too soon," you can hear his voice, but you can't see anything beyond the crooked silhouette of tree branches. The woods seem to whisper through to your paranoia. Sunghoon sounds like he's everywhere, like he couldn't come from one single direction.

“H-Hoonie- wait-"

The wind picks up, blowing against your exposed knees. You shuffle against the closest treet, clinging towards it like it was the only pillar of safety you could confide in.

"You're making this too easy, baby-"

You crouch into a ball close to the floor, suddenly feeling wholly and completely alone with nothing but the darkness for company. The darkness and whatever hid inside it. A sinking feeling makes the pits of your stomach grow with vehement warmth as you nuzzles your nose Into Sunghoon's jacket

You had arrived.

Fear was clutching so terribly at your throat you felt you might suffocate.

You were a little kid again, terrified of the dark and everything that was inside it. Only now, you had a boyfriend and somehow, he was hiding in the dark too.

“Shit-” you place a hand on your heart, feeling it racing to ungodly heights. This was not only fear but panic. And bubbling just beneath that, was a strange sort of excitement that twinkled in the darkness.

You were in the dark for far too long. What if you forget your way home?

The panic was pulling at your insides, making them twist and turn and react to every sound in the dark, wondering when he'll find you, thinking he probably already did.

The truth is Sunghoon watched your shadow trek uphill from the moment he finished counting. He stalked behind you with his hands in his jacket pocket, keeping a safe enough distance away to give you confidence. He made sounds of watching your silhouette jump intentionally.

You weren't very good at hide and seek. You peered over your shoulder far too often.

At some point you looked directly at him, your eyes meeting his in the darkness but its like recognition didn't register and your fear was all that drove you further uphill.

He was watching from a distance as you squirm now. You had crouched down onto the uneven forest floor, pulling his varsity jacket around you like a cloak that might make you invisible. You were shaking like a leaf. And Sunghoon realizes, with grave finality that he's really fucking hard.

As he stalks closer and closer towards you, his sneakers break the backs of the autumn leaves. He's not sure what he's going to do when he catches you, he just knows he needs you, really badly.

“Shit, shit, shit” The panic in your voice becomes starkly clear, the closer Sunghoon walks towards you and the little tree you've made your hiding place.

You can hear him approaching because he allows you to. You shake and cover your ears with your trembling hands and Sunghoon's face is stoic and emotionless as he lunges towards you.

Your eyes open just in time to swerve out of the way until you're sliding across the forest floor. You try to make a break for it- for what, you're not exactly sure- but he pokes his tongue through his cheek, slightly impressed before he grabs at you again, this time succeeding.

He pulls at your ankle, before securing your shoulders in between his palms. you're wrestling to free yourself from his oppressive hold. You kick and writhe but he wraps his arms around your waist, dragging your frame up off the forest floor.

You're an absolute mess. the side of your sundress is caught underneath his arm, exposing your left thigh to the cool autumn air.

“found you, Dove-” his voice is hoarse as he presses his face to the back of your head. Without thinking, perhaps without using anything except his innate instincts, Sunghoon pushes your front against the tree- the tree that you had used to hide from him.

‘I win-” he whispers, as his other arm snakes across your chest, squeezing and pawing at your breast while you continue to writhe wildly for him to let you go.

“Green or red?” You shiver when his warm breath snakes against the back of your neck, your cheek colliding with tree bark. “Answer me.”

Against your better judgement, you mutter, “Green,” allaying his concern with the simple act of pushing your ass against his bulge. You realise you're not wanting to get away from him. You want him to think you want to get away from him.

“Take this off-” he spins you around as he furiously unbuttons his varisty jacket that had kept you safe and sound from the big bad cold. Your shoulders are exposed and immediately hounded by Sunghoon's lips as soon as he discards the jacket on the forest floor.

“F-Fuck, Hoonie-” you really like being scared. You liked it so much your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he sucks bruises into the crook of your neck. You are hurtling into subspace like you've never quite experienced before.

Everything feels brighter. More vivid. Like you can feel the inner workings of mother earth, even under your sneaker clad feet.

You delve your fingers into his hair and you keep him there.

“F-Fuck-” you don't hardly swear but Sunghoon is sinking his teeth into your flesh while his other hand delves down between your open legs.

Instead of immediately making contact with your soaked core, Sunghoon breaks apart to watch you writhe and squirm underneath him. Your dress is completely hiked up now and he can see your hips canting up into the air. “You're so desperate I bet you could cum just like this, huh?”

His words have you moaning into the night air as your hips buck senselessly, searching for any bit of friction. “You were such a scared little baby just a second ago, weren't you?” His words cause the first round of tears to slip down your face. A gust of wind picks up then and you worry you really might just cum untouched, but then Sunghoon spares you and presses his thumb against your clit and you come almost immediately.

Stars cloud your vision as Sunghoon rubs at your clit, all while muttering harsh and unwarranted curse words.

Your hips are still bucking, even when the orgasm passes. You're so overstimulated, by Sunghoon, by the environment, by all the sounds you're being bombarded with from every angle.

“You're such a little slut you know that?” He brings his hand up to your face, speaking slowly and making grave, grave eye contact as if he was telling you a very very serious facet about your personality.

“Such a fucking slut-”

You're trembling as you look back in his eyes nodding firmly along and shuddering when he gives you that toothy grin.

“Show me,” Sunghoon says, “Show me you're my slut-” without even thinking about it for a second more, your hand finds his other hand, the one that had been rubbing at your clit through your soaked panties.

You hold eye contact as you bring his finger to your mouth, letting your tongue roll out before you place his middle and index finger directly onto it.

He swallows thickly.

Sunghoon forces his fingers slowly along your tongue, with the guidance of your small, trembling hands. He makes frantic work of unbuckling his pants with his other hand.

“You're such a fucking slut for me, you know that?” You nod, and a pained expression falls on his face as his fingers press down on your tongue.

“Fuck, I need to cum in you-” before you're able to think, Sunghoon pulls his hand out and brings you towards him with a string grip on the back of your neck he spits directly onto your tongue and forces your lips shut again.

“I'm gonna cum so hard inside you, baby-”

Your head hurts when he pushes you back against the tree a little too rough. Everything he does right now is a little too rough. It's like he forgets himself when he's on the verge of cumming in his pants.

He doesn't ease you into it.

Only forces the blunt tip of his cock through your opening, expecting you to take it like the good little slut you claimed to be.

“Sung-hoon, its sore- wait-”

He clasps both your wrists in his hand, placing it abve your head as he attempts to fuck his cock into you, “Shh, It'll get better soon-” he's slurring his words, pushing his hips against yours to force his cock even deeper in.

“Sunghoon promises-” he cradles your head towards him, “Hoonie promises- he needs to cum, yeah? Hoonie just needs you to be a good little cumslut for him- Fuck-"

“I think I'm gonna cum again-” you squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth and the sudden pressure invites another unexpected orgasm. He's fucking into you with reckless abandon now, letting go of your wrist, positive that you won't run away from him anymore.

“Youre fucking squeezing me-” his hips speed up in pace and his palm finds the base of your throat. He watches you with heavy lidded eyes and pink stained cheeks. “I'm about to cum so hard inside you-”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and tears pool in your eyes because you're far too overstimulated. Your tongue lolls out and just then, Sunghoon's cock twitches inside you.

“Fuck, you're so good, Princess-” he lowers his head into crook of your neck as his cum floods your insides “Such a good cumslut for me- Fuck!” It's the loudest he's ever been during sex, the loudest you've ever been too. So loud that the silence that follows is absolutely deafening. Neither Of you can bring each other to derange your limbs, Feeling absolutely rattled from the animalistic sex that had just occurred. Neither of you thought you had it in you.

And yet here you were.

You don't speak because you're not a couple that uses too many words To communicate. All you do is rest your head against the tree bark, as Sunghoon languidly continues to stroke his softening cock inside you.

[hart269]

Slithering Hearts

Chapter 5

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem! Reader

Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother.

Note : Seek the stars.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

The first quidditch match of the year was gonna start soon, even though you had not such interest in the game, you were still sitting on the bleachers, immersed in your book. Learning everything and more was a motto of yours, you had Fliwick and Slughorn impressed and ready to teach you the advanced stuff. Professor Mcgonagoll was clever yet kind. But it was in defense against the dark arts, you had to strive, cause just as the rumors stated, the teacher changed every single year.

The horn blew and the players entered the field, their green robes flicking beneath their feet as they moved forward. Your eyes swiftly shifted to the newest addition to the Slytherin team, who stood with nothing but a expression etched in stone. That's how it has mostly been since the start of 2nd year, you could only imagine all what happens in the grimmauld place.

Not that you didn't know, you had been exchanging letters most of the system, it was a well established system. After Walburga almost catched your letter, Regulus had sent you a panicked one to not send him one in such a time that his mother might see. Since then, he received your letters at twillight, while you received his at midnight.                                                                                        

The horn blew again, indicating the beginning of the match, all players mounted their brooms and took off soaring. Amelia jumped next to you, "I'm so excited, who do you think will win?"

"Whoever gets the snitch" you remarked, looking at the seekers. It was a Slytherin vs Ravenclaw match, although Regulus was good, the Ravenclaw was a 4th year, so naturally nothing definite could be concluded. Not like you had hopes on any particular one.

Your eyes shifted between the game and the book, until it became too intense and you were solely watching the game. The players flew wildly, with little understanding and Amelia explaining most of it, you were able to conclude some things. The game was in full motion when Regulus stopped mid air, causing the other seeker to stop too and look around in confusion. Regulus raised his hands and in his palm was the golden snitch. The whole side of Slytherin students stood, and jumped in excitement. The match was won.

The after party was held in the common room, filled with people dancing and cheering, you were sitting at the corner, having a rapid discussion with a drunk 6th year, though it did end quickly leaving you bored.

Your eyes wandered until they landed on a tuft of raven hair, who was sneaking out. Considering you had nothing better to do, you sneaked out after him, until you reached the top most floor of Hogwarts, the astronomy tower. Regulus sat on the floor infront of the big balcony, "Aren't you coming?" you jumped at the unexpected noise, he hadn't even turn around, damn him.

You sat beside him, marveling at the stars scattered shining across the plane, the view up here was breathtaking.

"Why are you not at the party" he asked.

"It was boring, besides I saw the star seeker leaving, thought it'd be more interesting" your cheeky reply earned a quiet chuckle, "Star seeker is a bit too snobbish, don't you think".

You shrugged, "I think it's perfectly fitting". You laughed at his groan but then you turned somber,  "Reg"

"Huh" 

"Everything's okay?" you looked at him pointedly, not letting him avoid the topic.

"Why won't it be" he replied avoiding your gaze, "It's the usual, just a bit more" his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"You know you can talk to me right" you said meeting his eyes.

"I do know so" he replied meeting your gaze.

"Also I forgot, Congratulations on your first match" you said patting his shoulders.  

     

He paused for a moment before grinning, "Give me your hand.

You lilted your hand curiously, extending it, he place the small golden ball on it. "The Snitch" you whispered excitedly, examining it, it was your first time seeing the hogwarts one up close.

Regulus watched your face scrunch in wonder, "You can keep it, if you want".

You  grinned "Really".

Regulus looked with a smug expression, "Yeah, I'm just gonna get more, star seeker remember"

And so he did, Regulus was one of the reasons Slytherin's performance in quidditch improved and went hand in hand or broom in broom with the Gryffindors who had been previously dominating most of the matches.

However nothing changed for good in the house of black, The black brothers looked plauged everytime they returned from may it be for Christmas or summer break. They refused to acknowledge each other, it was as if a force was pulling them apart. Regulus had not tried to talk to Sirius anymore, claiming it would be worthless anyway. It felt wrong for you to meddle inbetween them, so you decided to just be there for him.

Whenever he returned, it would take you days to get back a genuine smile from him, opening him up little by little. If it were up to you you would have taken him out of there, long time ago. But all you could do, and did do was to be there with him, the astronomy tower became yours hangout place. However it may be, you were glad to be friends.  

@shycreationdreamland @mp-littlebit @girlbooklover555 @godofstory @misacc08 @starchaser-lily

[needsmoreresearch]

One of the most immediately and directly vulnerable populations in the US right now is and will be immigrants without citizenship. Undocumented people in particular, but also anyone in the asylum process or with any kind of fragility to their legal status. We don't know yet how far that "fragility" will extend once Trump takes office: a green card should protect people from deportation but it wouldn't surprise me to see challenges.

The asylum process is one of the very few legal pathways to enter the US or to remain in the US if you are in danger of deportation. However, asylum seekers are not automatically appointed a legal representative. There's no public defender system for this. And without a lawyer people are more likely to face family separation, unnecessary detention, and deportation. This is...a pit of human suffering, frankly, that no one deserves.

If you are looking for ways to help, search around a bit for organizations near you that provide free immigration legal assistance. Here's an example near me: The Legal Project. They also provide free legal assistance with domestic violence, affordable housing, elder abuse, human trafficking, and many other situations where people are trapped for lack of free legal aid.

Even small amounts of money help! They may have clinic days when volunteers without any legal knowledge can still make a big difference. Heck, if you don't know how to find and contact an organization like this near you, I will help you. Contact me and I can at least get you started on the preliminary footwork.

You can also consider helping--with money or volunteer time--organizations that work at the US border. Currently many people approaching the border are summarily turned away without being permitted to apply for asylum. People who are deported may be dropped off without any help finding shelter. My boss is currently volunteering at the border as he does every year, and the reports he sends are pretty rough. (I didn't sign on for out-of-hours texts about moms and little kids being rough-handled and chucked out at the border with nowhere to go! Seriously, dude, I'm going to bed now, there's a time zone difference! But...I also kind of did sign on for this.) I know less about these organizations, but here is an example. They provide life-saving supplies of food and water, they help migrants and deportees find emergency shelter, they provide an on-the-ground witness to what border patrols are doing.

[eljeebee]

“Woah…”

Lavender was brought by the Seekers and Kashvi to a place called the Omiscan Royal Baths. It doesn’t look like royal anymore, as it is in ruin. It now looks like just a pool, with a pathway in the middle leading to a smaller pool. Was it a fountain before? She doesn’t know. The pool accumulated algae and had grown lily pads.

Are they seriously going to let her swim in there? It looks dirty, and Watcher forgive her, full of bacteria. Won’t it stain the robes they gave her that she’s now wearing?

Iris let out a huff, Mata chuckled.

Ah yes. They could hear her thoughts.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to let you swim in the larger parts of the pool,” Mata said.

Iris gestured at the smaller pool in the middle. Lavender hummed. Alright…

“What exactly are we here for?” Lavender asked.

“A rite of passage,” Mata explained. “Every Watcher-touched person had held a ceremony–big or small–here in the Omiscan Royal Baths.”

Iris nodded. “Mata and I were given a ceremony by Kashvi’s family.”

“And I was given a ceremony too,” Kashvi said, smiling. “A big one – a royal one. I was a princess and was selected to be the Babaylan. I, too, was given the rites here.”

Mata nodded at the memory. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

Iris agreed, “Indeed it is.”

Lavender stared at the mini pool below her. She imagined Kashvi in royal robes, probably a more extravagant one than what the ancient vampire is currently wearing, with an equally extravagant headdress, surrounded by her people, watching her get baptized in the royal baths. She imagined Kashvi stepping in the pool, with priests and priestesses surrounding her, singing and reciting their chants or something.

She, too, would listen to these chants, recited by Kashvi and the Seekers. She would be baptized in the white robes that the Seekers had lent her, symbolizing that she is now touched by the Watcher.

“As preparation for the Gift, it is natural that you will be given a rite of passage,” Iris said, “We are here to witness it all.”

Kashvi held out a hand, “Come.”

“Goddess Omisca, our true Watcher…”

“Here stands Lavender Lee, daughter of the Magic Realm, bearer of your plumbob mark…”

“Who awaits your blessed touch of your gracious sacred hand.”

Lavender imitated them, hands together, looking up at the starry sky.

“You gave her the magic…”

“You gave her the connection to your Seekers…”

“And now you will be giving her a portion of your power.”

Kashvi then said, “O Goddess, we ask for your hand…”

“Your kindhearted holy hand,” Mata continued.

“Your touch to give her the strength to bear the weight of your Gift,” Iris finished.

In unison, the three said, “Guide her, O Goddess.”

Lavender shivered. It got cold. Like real cold. Chilly, even. And it never gets chilly at night in the jungle. Just cool. Cool air to cool the humid skin.

She looked at her companions. They stood there, eyes closed, and so she did.

She felt a warm hand touch the top of her head.

[tsvwords]

Upon The Birthing Of Gods. Professor Elaine Trask, revised edition.

First Instruction. Faith may be practiced in solitude.

God-birthing, however, is a communal activity. Please do not kid yourself. You will need others.

Second Instruction. Ensure that you have a simple and communicable concept in mind.

Once you have settled on your god’s concept, immediately take the time to cross-reference said concept against an up-to-date register of licenced faiths.

Remember that international law prohibits religious plagiarism, and your national authorities are legally bound to seek out and nullify any attempted breach of copyright.

N.B. If you are defining your god as a committee, ensure everyone is on the same page from the beginning. Schisms during the planning stages benefit no-one.

Third Instruction. Know your history. 

Even if your chosen concept does not infringe upon the intellectual property of other licenced faiths, it is absolutely inevitable that someone has had exactly the same notion before you. You’re not an unprecedented genius, stupid.

Search the archives for abandoned or stray faiths.  If you can find any record of why a faith was abandoned, make a note of this information for future reference, as it may impact your licencing, claim.

Also make a note of any known prayer-marks. These will be your first retraced steps towards building a shared language, a way to speak and a way to be heard.

Fourth Instruction. Test your communication method. Establish a connection.

You should begin this process by deciding on a conduit, or conduits; some manner of hierophant, seeker, prophet, who can relate particularly strongly to the concept at hand.

If you are not the conduit in question, share the following steps with your chosen candidate, and then retreat to a safe distance.

You will need:

a variety of psychotropic smokes and commercial-grade teas (see the next chapter for a suggested list to get you started) 

some limited but meaningful form of sacrifice (a god must feed, and until you’ve established the exact ritual of sacrifice, blood and life remain the most effective general standbys)

patience, a great deal of it

Fifth Instruction. Focus on your god, to the exclusion of all other thoughts. Devote mind and body to drawing it forth.

Let your mind open up new pathways through the sullen waters of reality. Obsession is the winding road that will lead you to your god.

Again, you will need resilience...and still more patience.

Ninety-one percent of god-birthing efforts fall at this first hurdle. If you have access to a substantial labour force, this author advises you to make use of them and speed the process up. 

Dramatically increase the psychotropic dosage, deal with any casualties as necessary, and arrive at your destination sooner. Whatever method you choose, the crucial thing is to ensure that your chosen conduit does not lose focus.

You’ll know when you’ve arrived. It’ll feel as if a piece has fallen into place. A satisfaction so absolute that it terrifies you.

Like the world was incomplete until now.

[propheticeve]

"Holiness Hoodoo: Rediscovering Ancestral Roots Without Jesus"

The term "Holiness Hoodoo" may leave some people puzzled, so allow me to clarify its meaning. In my view, Holiness Hoodoo represents a return to the traditional practices of my ancestral lineage, a way to decipher who I am and what my purpose entails. Many of our forebears were devout Christians, and this undeniable fact forms the backdrop of my spiritual journey. Despite the complex relationship that many Black Americans have with the Bible due to the scars of slavery, it's essential to remember that it wasn't the Bible itself that caused harm, but the people wielding it as a tool of oppression.

As I delved deeper into the realms of ancestral magic, I began to notice striking parallels with church practices. To some, I seemed too "churchy" for hoodoo, and to others, too "hoodoo" for the church—there appeared to be no middle ground. However, I've come to understand that my connection to my ancestors is the cornerstone of my spiritual practice. I've realized that perhaps the reason some individuals struggle to communicate with their spirits is that they try to venerate them through African traditions, tarot, or other methods their ancestors might not recognize.

The Bible, as a potent tool in hoodoo, is not revered because we live by its teachings but because it contains powerful scriptures. My mother, for instance, believed in Jesus, yet she was a practitioner of hoodoo—a tongue-speaking, spirit-conjuring woman. Her approach, which I now embrace, is what I refer to as "Holiness Hoodoo."

So, what does Holiness Hoodoo look like for me?

1. Setting the Atmosphere:

I play inspirational or gospel music that resonates with my specific needs, allowing it to fill my home as I clean, pray, or perform spiritual work. Gospel music serves as a direct conduit to my ancestral spirits, and sometimes, when I hear a song I haven't listened to in a while, an ancestor's presence is assured.

2. Keeping a Bible on the Altar:

While I don't read the Bible frequently, I keep it open to the Psalms as an offering to my spirits. The Bible also serves as a powerful tool of protection, and specific verses and pages can function as talismans and petitions.

3. Baptisms:

Baptism, in my lineage, is a ritual practice to wash ourselves of sins and start anew. It's not just for babies; it can also cleanse generational curses and traumas passed down from parents.

4. Shouting:

Listening to gospel music, I engage in the practice of shouting, a form of ecstatic dance that connects me with my spirits. This practice fills me with light and often results in downloads of ancestral wisdom.

5. Laying of Hands:

I perform the laying of hands, a practice I'll discuss in more detail in the future. It's distinct from Reiki and is a significant part of my spiritual tradition.

6. Fasting:

Fasting is a part of my spiritual practice, serving as a means of both elevating my spiritual consciousness and cleansing my body. I firmly believe that one's health plays a pivotal role in their spiritual journey.

Holiness Hoodoo is about preserving the traditions of our ancestors and finding connections with them. It doesn't rely on dogma or strict religious doctrine; instead, it is a pathway to tap into the wisdom and spirituality that has been passed down through generations. In this practice, there is no room for being "too churchy" or "too hoodoo"—it's about embracing the rich tapestry of our heritage and harnessing it for a profound and authentic spiritual experience.

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[talonabraxas]

VISUAL NARRATIVES

In the realm of religious symbolism, Hindu and Chaldeo-Jewish diagrams stand as captivating landmarks, offering profound insights into their respective cosmologies and philosophical underpinnings. These visual narratives, far from mere aesthetic flourishes, serve as intricate maps guiding the seeker towards understanding the divine tapestry of existence.

Hindu diagrams, like the mandala, explode with vibrancy. Concentric circles cradle dancing figures and blooming lotus blossoms, each element resonating with symbolic depth. The mandala becomes a microcosm of the universe, reflecting the interconnectedness of all beings and the cyclical nature of samsara, the endless dance of life, death, and rebirth. Another emblematic diagram, the samsara wheel, charts the celestial journey of the soul, acting as a poignant reminder of the impermanence of earthly existence.

In stark contrast, Chaldeo-Jewish diagrams unfold with geometric precision. The Kabbalistic Tree of Life, resplendent with ten luminous Sephiroth, meticulously maps the emanation of God's divine attributes into the manifest world. Each meticulously arranged geometric form speaks of cosmic order and structure, inviting the seeker to contemplate the grand mechanisms of creation. The Merkabah, a fiery chariot ablaze with mystical symbolism, transcends its literal depiction to represent the soul's arduous ascent towards divine union.

Though their visual languages diverge, both Hindu and Chaldeo-Jewish diagrams converge in their pursuit of ultimate understanding and liberation. The cyclical dance of samsara and the Kabbalistic ascent of the soul, despite their contrasting styles, resonate with a shared yearning for the ultimate union with the divine. By navigating the intricate pathways of these sacred symbols, the seeker embarks on a transformative journey, striving to align with the cosmic order and achieve liberation, whether through samsara's cyclical dance or the Merkabah's mystical ascent.

Ultimately, venturing into the realm of these diagrams transcends mere academic inquiry. It is a comparative pilgrimage, enriching our understanding of diverse spiritual traditions while revealing the unifying tapestry woven from our collective human yearning for knowledge, self-realization, and connection with the divine. So, let us cast aside the shackles of rigid categorization and embrace the beauty of these ancient symbols. Within their swirling lines and luminous forms lies a hidden language, waiting to be deciphered and whispered to the soul.

Finally, Hindu mandalas' vibrant dance and the Kabbalistic Tree's luminous wisdom whisper across vast chasms of time and culture, finding surprising echoes in early Christian art and mystical thought. Clearly, these fascinating parallels suggest a shared history woven from universal questions about the divine. Let's embrace the whispers, appreciating the beauty of interwoven threads as we explore the boundless canvas of human spirituality. --Rethinking our connection with the Divine Creator

[mariacallous]

As Election Day approaches, many city leaders across the United States are wondering what a second presidential term for Donald Trump might mean for their residents and communities. Over the past several months, they have watched as Trump described Milwaukee as “horrible,” New York as a “city in decline,” and Philadelphia as “ravaged by bloodshed and crime.” Trump recently warned (at the Detroit Economic Club, of all places) that “the whole country will be like Detroit” if Vice President Kamala Harris wins the election, and that “you’re going to have a mess on your hands.” City leaders recall conflicts with the previous Trump administration over issues such as administering the decennial census, ensuring public safety, and providing adequate funding. 

Immigration policy, however, should top their concerns. Candidate Trump signaled numerous ways in which he and his cabinet would seek to reduce the presence and impact of immigrants of nearly all kinds in American life. Recent Brookings analysis quantified the potential national economic impact of this agenda. And as the analysis below shows, these proposed policies would be especially harmful to cities, which have long relied upon immigration for critical demographic, economic, and cultural fuel. 

The GOP wants fewer immigrants—of almost all kinds—in the United States 

While Trump and running mate JD Vance’s recent spotlight on Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio grabbed headlines, the GOP’s agenda on immigration reaches much more broadly. Based on Trump’s speeches, statements from campaign officials, and Project 2025’s “Mandate for Leadership,” this agenda includes: 

Rounding up, detaining, and deporting an estimated 11 million unauthorized migrants 

Further restricting the entry of refugees and asylum seekers 

Repealing the diversity immigrant visa, which offers pathways to permanent U.S. residency for migrants from countries with historically low numbers of immigrants 

Limiting family-based admissions of immigrants (to nuclear family members only) 

Scaling back the use of H-1B (high-skilled immigrant) and H-2B (seasonal immigrant worker) visas 

Repealing temporary protected status (TPS) for immigrants fleeing unsafe situations in their home countries (including 450,000 recent arrivals from Venezuela) 

Ending Deferred Action for Childhood Arrival (DACA) protections for minor children whose parents brought them to the U.S. illegally 

Reinstituting the “Muslim ban,” effectively barring the entry of individuals from a range of Muslim-majority countries 

Such policies would reflect Trump’s warning that immigrants are “poisoning the blood” of America, and fulfill promises from policy adviser Stephen Miller that a second Trump presidency “will unleash the vast arsenal of federal powers to implement the most spectacular migration crackdown.” As was true in the previous Trump administration, many (if not all) of these policies would face legal challenges, funding challenges, or both. But such a multipronged policy assault on immigration—likely coupled with continued anti-immigration rhetoric—would undoubtedly have both direct and indirect effects on immigrants’ presence and contributions to America’s economy and society. 

[mychlapci]

seekers are really communal frame types. it's actually part of the reason why they trine together; they're like rats or pigeons. a single seeker left alone to their own devices will often slip into depression without companionship. it's actually a big idea i have for my fan continuity.

i've seen people saying that vosians are prideful assholes and while i think that's true to some extent, i also think that they're just generally very focused on their communities. within my fan continuity, certain areas of cybertron lended themselves better to certain frame types. the areas that eventually became the region of vos were pitted by steep mountains and deep canyons so only those who could fly were able to properly settle there.

due to this, vos is a very flight oriented region. most cities there are built high into the atmosphere and rarely accommodate other frame types which has led to the stereotype that all vosians are vain and only care about themselves which is very much not true!

vos, in my fan continuity, isn't a single city. it's a name given to describe a specific region of cybertron that has similar topography, and language families (similar to how we call the middle east, the middle east even though there's a ton of different countries and cultures there)

vosians are generally some of the most outwardly friendly cybertronians due to the wingspeak that the region developed as their main form of communication. this language is allows for far more nuance but it's not something taught across cybertron so when vosian's speak common, their tones often come across as intensely snooty because they tend to be very blunt with their words.

seekers in particular are distinguished from other flight frames by their specific wing forms and general likeness to each other in terms of kibble placement and other such looks, are very community based, often forming massive neighborhoods and colonies of up to 120 seekers.

these colonies function just by the sheer feeling of community that shows up between those who are part of it. members often share, sleeping, cooking, bathing, and living spaces and it's not uncommon for multiple different trines to form massive poly relationships with each other just because of close proximity

this is also my explanation behind why the only air force we see in the decepticons are seekers. because they're so communal, it only made sense for them all to join the cons. not doing so would mean that one left behind might become extremely isolated and depressed from lack of contact.

seeker colonies are highly complex and often feature a single trine as the main leaders (in this case it would be the elite trine) but it can often vary from colony to colony. smaller ones might only have one trine in charge, but the bigger ones might have up to five which create a council of sorts to make decisions regarding the community

going back to the city structures of vos. it varies highly on the area but generally cities that are built high in the mountains tend to build outward around the mountain and then upward. so you'd see a lot of scaffolding around the lowest layers, just general structural support dug directly into the rock, while the upper most layers are connected by a series of bridges and pathways.

cities that built into the canyons of the region tend to be a lot more spread out, with chunkier buildings that better accommodate cybertronians of other frames. however it is consistent that vosian cities are built at high altitudes, feature heavy use of spiraling skyscrapers, and generally focused on flight frames and their specific needs. so lots of perches to land on, runways to take off from, and open aired buildings to allow for better weather predictions since some cities might be so high up that the upper layers stretch above the cloudline.

i have thoughts about the winglord thing in fandom. i think it's really interesting but i don't think it's a seeker specific thing.

so in terms of the winglord for this version of cybertron, i think it's a ceremonial term used to describe the winner of a ritual that determines who will lead the vosian region for the coming millennium regarding religious leadership. it's kinda like if the pope position got chosen by a fistfight. so like the winglord doesn't have any actual political power, but they do have a lot of religious influence

starscream in my continuity never actually becomes the winglord because of that reason. he's not particularly religious and because he specifically wants to join politics to get vos more focused on unifying with other cybertronian regions, he never participates in the winglord fights. however, sunstorm does

skywarp is a cartographer and his teleporting abilities allow him to get into unmapped spaces without too much trouble. which is very useful since vos' topography does not lend itself well to scanning devices because of the unpredictability of the weather. the area is prone to sudden and very random tornadoes because of it's mountainous landscape and it's actually part of the reason why vosian cities are designed the way they are. they're built most commonly in the areas that avoid the paths of the tornadoes

once again this ask is getting out of hand so i'm going to cap it off on that

aaaaaa i can't believe it took me so long to get to this ask, this is literally the coolest thing ever. Though i might be biased because I have... well, not exactly a continuity, more like... it's flashes and, uh, images, in my head, barely headcanons, and they're not always nearly as pregnancy-based as i led everyone to believe. And in these barely-headcanons, i am a sucker for, first of all, the cybertronian "cities" being more akin to areas or states with more cities within, and second of all your idea of seeker communal society kind of reminds me of the way that the roman kingdom operated, and i looove to get inspired by rome for my cybertronian worldbuilding. mostly because rome was very fucked up and cybertron needs to be as well.

and yeah, the winglord thing, i do feel like it's possible that every city/state on cybertron would have a high ranking official that is technically "in charge" and vosnians simply call it a winglord, but it's not exclusive to them. sorry just the political arrangement of cybertron is so interesting to me, no.1 favourite thing to think about. it probably depends on the "area" but the official can be only religious in nature or fully tyrannical or anywhere in between. again, sorry, i have to stop thinking about this.

in love with your mind, i love communal fliers. i know people can get weird about seekers and trines but i love it when it's simply a cultural difference.

[st0ne-wasps]

Regards

Not the most creative title but eh. Tim's pov, he goes back to Benedict Hall to search for his friends body's to bury them. I'm not sure if tumblr is going to let me post this as one thing or not but we'll see. I'll accept polite criticism but keep in mind I mostly just did this for fun/as an experiment and to make my partner sad lol.

(TW: body burying, murder flashbacks, angst, blood, death, swearing)

I yanked the key out of the ignition with a huff. I felt bad leaving Jessica so suddenly with so little explanation— I know what it’s like to deal with this alone— but I can’t stay anywhere near this town anymore. Or anywhere in Alabama. I couldn’t wait to get my sorry ass out of this place, but there’s something I have to do before I can even attempt to leave this all behind. 

I stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind me with a thunk and a beep of the car locking that were louder than they should have been. Fucking Benedict Hall, I hoped the place would burn down as I stepped onto the well-kempt grass. The parking lot behind me was empty, lit up with oranges and purples from the setting sun, the harsh streetlights that just recently turned themselves on automatically seeming out of place in the softer light. 

I stalked down the paved pathways, carrying a duffle bag over my shoulder and trying to use its size to block my face, in case any overtime workers stayed past their shift, or any security cameras were pointed my way. My footsteps echoed painfully loudly off the brick walls of the college buildings, threatening to give me away to someone that probably wasn’t even there. 

I reached for the door, my hand shaking until I squeezed the handle to keep it steady. I opened the door slowly, scared it was going to creak and groan in protest— but it must have been well-oiled, because it didn’t make a sound. 

Being back in these hallways got my heart pounding, and I shook my head to quiet my ringing ears. I had to do this, I can’t back out now. For them. 

I searched the halls, not remembering the exact locations of… what I was looking for. I passed a room filled with pews, and paused as something caught my eye— a white mug, just sitting abandoned on top of one of the long benches. It was odd, but it wasn’t important, and I kept walking. I flinched at every shadow, every shifting of the old building, but I didn't stop again.

I started to pass by another hall, but just as quickly I stopped. The stairwell was familiar. I could clearly imagine my old college friend, standing there and holding a gun towards that over-curious man. It wasn’t hard to imagine— it was more like remembering the murder I had second-handedly witnessed, posted on fucking Youtube for horror fanatics and thrill seekers to watch with ignorant eyes. They may have witnessed the worst moment of my life, but they were not permitted to see anything I was about to do. This is between me and my old classmates.

I stormed down the hall with a renewed vigor, turning the halls I had practically memorized after watching the video a million fucking times. I turned into the room, almost expecting to see that spindly creature that had ruined my life— but the room was empty. I stepped through the door, switching my bag to the other shoulder as I glanced around.

There he was.

Jay Merrick. The amiteur detective, really just a nostalgic, curious kid. He didn’t deserve to be sitting here like this. Slumped against the wall, camera that had run out of battery hours ago in hand, blood that had once seeped through his soft green jacket now dried and firm. His eyes were closed, almost as if he could have been resting after a long day of snooping and stalking old acquaintances. 

I wanted to throw up just looking at him. If he had just left me alone, he would be alive. If I had just been a normal person and told him to fuck off, he would be alive. If I had just…. I shook my head as my ears started ringing again. I can’t focus on this right now. I have to do this. I can’t leave him like this, for my own sake, but mostly for him. He’d deserve the peace of mind. 

I knelt beside him, setting down my bag behind me. I gently grabbed his face and tilted it towards my own. I tried to memorize his face, but tears blurred my vision. I absentmindedly stroked his cold cheek with my thumb as I gently removed his hat with my other hand. I… I don’t want to take from him, but I can’t… I can’t let my only keepsake be the damned 670k Youtube channel. I hooked the sweatband of the hat to my belt loop and let it hang there, lifeless as my friend before me. Friend. I never got to tell him I saw him as my friend. 

I let go of his face, careful to make sure it rests gently, before I unzipped the bag and pulled out one of four large trash bags. It was far from what he deserved, but it was only temporary. I opened the bag as wide as it would go, and tried to push Jay inside as gently as possible. 

It wasn’t as delicate as I would have hoped. It was awkward, and his limbs were at odd angles, and I shuddered as I accidentally touched the crusty blood on his shirt. I closed up the bag and paused. I had to leave him somewhere while I got the others. It was too risky to put him near the entrance, but I couldn’t just leave him here… 

I sighed as I resigned myself to carrying them one at a time. I slung the duffle bag over my shoulder, and lifted the trash bag over my other. I heaved both of them back through the door and to my car, laying the hefty trash bag into my trunk as gently as possible, before heading back into the building for a second time tonight.

I started where I’d left off, but turned down a different hallway this time. The tiles and lockers were sickeningly familiar as I saw myself hacking and coughing onto the floor, shouting as I chased to the end of the hall and up against the balcony. 

Now, in the present time, I slowly shuffled down the corridor, feeling something disgustingly akin to simple embarrassment as I approached the banister and looked down.

Where was he?

I paused. He should be there. Brian should be there. I raced down the stairs as fast as my body would allow, and I almost fell, but I caught myself on the railing and sprinted to the spot right under where I had just been standing.

No no no no, fuck. Where was he? He was right here. He couldn’t have gone anywhere— he was dead. I heard his skull crack onto the floor. I saw him lay there, still as a board while I rummaged through his pockets. At the time, I thought he was just some sick fuck who liked tormenting me and my hat-wearing companion, but Brian… It was him. It had been him. The whole time.

And he had been right. Fucking. There. I would have been standing on him now. But he was nowhere to be seen. Fuck this, I had to find him. I bet the pale twig fucker had moved him. That shithead, he’d ruined my whole life, but messing with Brian’s corpse was about to be the last straw.

I sprinted down each hall, only stopping when my bag of supplies got caught on something or I thought I saw something that could be Brian. But he wasn’t anywhere. Or at least, not anywhere in this building. I leaned against a doorway, panting and trying to catch my breath again, feeling a tickle in my throat that threatened to lead to a coughing fit before I saw it.

Something faded and yellow looking, in the room with the pews and the odd mug. It couldn’t be. I ran into the room as fast as my slowly tiring legs would allow, and I fell to my knees when I reached my destination.

It wasn’t Brian. But it was his hoodie. Laying strewn across one of the pews and looking terribly empty and lifeless without the smiley man inside of it. I grabbed the fabric, feeling the familiar texture and tears begging to spill from my eyes. It felt so wrong to be holding it without my old friend as its occupant. I held the hoodie to my chest, wiping my face with my own sleeve to avoid getting my tears on it. I inhaled shakily, looking around the area once more— where I had just taken the hoodie from, some sort of black fabric had been laying beneath it. I grabbed it, and instinctively recoiled when I saw what it was, dropping it to the floor and standing up to put space between me and it. 

It was a fucking T-shirt. But not a plain one, or a band-branded one, or even one with a sucky pun on it. Instead, it had that damn frowny face, sewed onto the front and mocking me. Look at me, I’m so sad it seemed to say to me, and I kicked it further away from me with my shoe. Fucking disgusting. But I needed to take something with me, something of Brian’s that I could let go of, leave behind to rot. I stuck his faded hoodie under my arm and pulled out another trash bag from my fabric one. I shoved the makeshift mask in with little delicacy. At least I wouldn’t have to make another trip right at this moment.

Fuck that, who thinks like that? There’s no bright side to this… but if there was, Brian could’ve found it, I remembered bitterly. Always such a ray of sunshine for others, even when he was struggling himself. I felt guilty for how many times I must have burdened him while he needed help himself, before I had realized how much he had going on in his own life. I can only hope that he would have forgiven me. Scratch that, I knew that he would have forgiven me without a second thought— the real debate was whether I deserved his forgiveness. 

I knew that I didn’t. I’d killed him. Really, I’d killed them all.

But I continued my search. Just one more estranged friend to go. I left the stacked-pews room, and glanced down each hallway, trying to ignore the texture of my old best friend's hoodie under my arm. I could reminisce later. I listened to my own breathing as I continued down the hallway. And the sound of my footsteps. And the sound of a pipe leaking, somewhere in the building. It was eerily quiet, in the building and in my own mind. I didn’t know what to think, what to expect. So I didn’t think about anything as I searched the empty campus for the rageful director. 

He probably would have liked a college like this. It wasn’t too different from the one the two of us had gone to together, though the focus on the Arts would have made him happy, and the catholic part would have pleased his parents, though I don’t think it would have been his first pick. 

I continued down the hallways, my mind bouncing from one pointless topic to the other, trying to momentarily avoid the weight of the situation. Of my actions. I would’ve liked to slow my steps, drag out the moments for just a while longer. While I knew what would be before me when I find what I’m searching for, I didn’t really know what I was going to have to face. But I couldn't keep stalling, the soft sunset had already turned into cool moonlight, shining in pools on the slightly dusty tile floors. I didn’t want to be here any longer than I had to be.

I headed up a stairwell, one that I’d been up before but only really recognized through film— the moments before I had been here were blurry, almost lost to me. But I didn’t need video proof to remember what I had done as I saw the speckles of dried blood at the top of the stairs. I inhaled shakily as I pushed myself up the final step, and my eyes followed the trail of increasing blood splatter around a sharp corner. 

Hesitantly, I turned the corner. And he was just as I’d left him.

Alex Kralie, aspiring film director, hardass, and my old semi-friend. I was never that close with him, but he had seemed like a good guy. He had been a good guy— quick tempered, sure, stubborn as all hell but… he’d had a dream. And could anyone really blame him for doing whatever he could to achieve it? He’d had a fire about him, an undeniable spark that would have taken him to great places.

If he wasn’t lying dead on the hard flooring, blood clotted and dried long ago. And man, there was a lot of blood. It covered his shirt, splattered across his face, even smeared across the lenses of his glasses— which had been knocked to the other end of the hall, likely broken in some way. I stared at the roughed-up corpse, frozen to the spot. My ears were ringing loud as shit. My vision was blurry, but I wasn’t sure if it was from tears, or something else.

I could still remember the feeling. Of the adrenaline when he held that gun towards me, of the desperation in his and my own voice, trying to urge each other to different things— and even though I may have “won”, how could I know I was “right?’ —and of my dull knife digging into his flesh, and the blood covering my hand and forearm, dripping onto the floor by the stairs and still yet to be found and cleaned. 

I tried to calm my breathing, closing my eyes as I inhaled, and exhaled. When I opened them again, I walked unsteadily to Alex’s forgotten glasses. I picked them up— or, most of them. One of the arms of the frame had snapped off, and was still on the floor. I picked that up too. Both pieces were spotted with blood. I didn’t walk back over to Alex yet, but I set my bag down and pulled a rag and some bleach out of it. I wet the rag with the bleach and wiped off his glasses, before putting them in my bag, and I went ahead and put my old friend's yellow hoodie in there with them as well.

Applying more bleach to the rag, and grabbing another garbage bag before carefully heading over to Alex’s body and crouching before him.

For years, if I had stood before him, I would’ve felt rage. Annoyance. Playful exasperation at best. But seeing him like this, splayed across the floor, defeated, I could only feel pity. Pity for dragging him into this— even unknowingly. Pity for ruining his dream, his life. Pity for myself, because even as he lies, cold and stiff before me, I see myself in him. We are both cowards. The only difference between us being that he can finally stop and rest. But I will keep living as a coward. I am going to keep running. Even now, I run from the consequences of actions I could never explain, nor justify. 

I set the rag and trash bag beside me, and sigh— I should really have thought to bring gloves or something. I grab Alex by the shoulders and try to maneuver him into the bag. I try to be as careful as I was for the cameraman, but the feeling of the dried blood on my fingers makes me rush, and I’m not quite as gentle as I would have liked to have been, not quite as gentle as he deserves me to be with him.

Once he was in and sealed up the bag, I put him to the side and pulled out more rags from my bag. It wouldn’t be my first time playing janitor, but it would definitely be the least pleasant. I covered the rags in bleach, trying to inhale as little of the fumes as possible— I should have thought to bring a mask, too— and I cleaned the floor of the crusty red splatters as meticulously as possible. 

Even though the proof of what I’d done was all over the internet, if there was no physical proof, no one could prove it was anything more than a stupid art project— that’s what everyone thought it was anyways. An “ARG” or a “found footage horror” or an “urban legend brought to life.” They all thought it was a game, a show, made for their sick entertainment. But as infuriated as it makes me, it’s best for everyone that that’s what they believe, not just me and the consequences I’d face.

It took a few excruciating hours, but at least I could be certain I had removed every speck of Alex’s blood from the hallway. Honestly, I shouldn’t have waited so long to do this, it would have been way easier if the blood hadn’t been dried… but I’d needed to be prepared. And now that I had finished everything I’d needed to do at Benedict Hall, I could begin working on the main reason I’d come here. Yes, I’d have to remove the evidence… but… this next part was more important to me.

I shoved my ruined cleaning supplies into the last trash bag I’d packed, and slung my duffle over my shoulder, and heaved Alex up into my arms. I wish I could have found my old best friend's body, but just as a selfish thought, I’m glad I’d only have to make this trip twice, instead of three times.

When I finally got to my car, and put everything into the trunk, I was tired. Really tired. The moon was already in the middle of the sky, and I still had so much to do. I couldn’t stop, the risk of what I’m doing being discovered was too much. And they deserved this small sacrifice from me. It was the least I could do.

I hopped into my car, listening to it start up before pulling out of the parking lot as fast as I could without being a danger. I tried to let the sound of the road calm me, trying even harder to ignore what I had in the back of my car. It wouldn’t be too far, but it couldn’t be close enough to here to be suspicious. As much as I’d like to have gone somewhere sentimental for this, I couldn’t risk doing it anywhere that had been shown on the hat-wearing kid’s little documentary. 

Eventually I found a good enough spot, and pulled myself off-road as far as my car would allow, before hitting the treeline. Hopefully no one spotted it and came to check on me, but the road was completely empty, so I tried not to worry about it too much. 

I got out and pulled my duffle bag and the two plastic trash bags out of my trunk. They were all heavy as fuck, but I could manage. I hauled them into the woods, an ironic location, but it was the safest place. For them, at least. I kept sending glances behind my shoulder, as seemingly-casually as possible. 

Once I thought I was in far enough, and then some, I finally set everything down. I sat down as well, giving myself a moment to regain my breath before more inevitable physical labor. 

Eventually, I stood up and pulled the long shovel out of my bag. I sighed internally at the effort this was going to take, but I knew that it would be worth it as I pierced the fresh earth with the tip of the tool. I yanked out the first clump of dirt. Only a lot more to go.

I dug out another small divot, hoping I wouldn’t run into too many roots or large stones. 

I pressed the shovel into the dirt again, willing the body’s of my friends behind me to know that I was doing this for them. 

I heard the scrunching sound of dirt being scraped from the ground and realized I should have brought some sort of measuring tape to be able to know when I got to six feet down.

Eventually I lost count, and fell into a rhythm. A solemn rhythm, but one nonetheless. Still, my arms were burning from the effort by the time I thought I got far enough. I climbed out of the hole and opened up one of the trash bags.

It was Alex. I guess it’s only fair for him to be buried first, considering he may have been the first that I infected, and the last that I killed. I pulled him unceremoniously from the plastic, kicking the bag to the side and lifting Alex over to the grave. I looked from him in my arms, to the hole in the ground. He felt so heavy, and cold. Not like carrying a body. It felt like carrying, I don’t know… An empty box. A forgotten toy. Something left behind, empty, beyond use. I didn’t feel like crying because I didn’t feel like I was holding Alex kralie’s corpse. If I had been carrying his corpse, I would have felt the fire. He would have left behind some of his determination. Some hint of existence. Alex Kralie doesn’t leave the world stiff and cold. There’s just no way it would have happened like this.

Regardless, I set him down as carefully as possible into the grave. Once he was laying there, I looked at him again. Despite the blood still caked on his skin, he looked almost peaceful now, like he was sleeping. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alex look so calm. I hoped that meant he was at peace, and not that I was over sentimental. 

I felt like I should say something. I had to say something, some sort of grand send off, something to show the lifeless thing before me that, even though we were never close, I had wanted him to have a successful life. And that I never wanted it to be this way. And the anger I felt towards him for his own hand in this mess. And that if i could have ended things differently, I would have without a second thought.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything that would convey what I needed him to understand, and yet, I felt like I had nothing to say to him.

“Regards.” Was all I could choke out. My eyes blurred. I picked up the shovel again, and started shoveling dirt over him. I watched every bit of it pour over him until he was completely out of sight, and then I started shoveling a little faster. He deserved my time, but there was still a lot to do, and the night was already getting old. 

Once the grave was fully covered, I pressed down the dirt as firmly as I could. I knew that if I really wanted these graves to be hard to find, I should be burying dead animals over their bodies— it’d be harder for police dogs to sniff them out that way— but I couldn’t do that to them. They deserved better than that— they deserve better than this— but it’s all I can do, and I was confident enough that no one would find them. At least not until I was long gone— either in another state or dead. 

I moved a few feet to the side, and started digging again.

It didn’t feel like it took as long this time, but it felt just as achingly tiring, if not more. I wasn’t sure I was going to have the energy to drive myself out of here by the time I was done with this. But I’d have too.

I opened up the second bag, and tried to pull Jay out without jostling him around too much— but it was just as awkward and ungraceful as it was with the director. Either way, I got Jay out of the bag and kicked the plastic to the side, just as I had before. 

I lifted him up and held him before the grave. Just as the first corpse had, Jay felt empty and cold. But different from the man before him, Jay felt young. Despite the fact that I wasn’t much older than Jay, once I really got to know him, he’d started to feel like a younger brother to me. Naive, curious, too good at snooping for his own good. I had begun to feel like I was somewhat responsible for him, his well being and his actions. I wanted him to make it out of this safe, better than I had or would, but here I am. Holding an empty impression of the endearing man I once knew. I couldn’t protect him. I couldn’t get him out of it. I couldn’t deter him from his search, and by the time I had made an impression on him, he was too deep in to pull himself out— even with my help and advice. 

I needed to have something to say to him. I tried to come up with something as I set him into the grave, and when I stood back up, I took a deep breath.

“I… hope you don’t mind if I keep your hat,” I said softly, staring at him, both our faces worryingly blank. “Don’t get too mad, but I can’t keep your cameras. Or the tapes. There’s… too much on there. It’s not just for my sake, but Jessica’s too.” I looked at him. He didn’t look at me, his eyes were closed. This wasn’t good enough for him. For any of them. “Sleep well.”

I began covering him with dirt too. But I couldn’t look at him. I finished as quickly as possible and turned to the final spot.

At least this could be a much smaller grave. I dug up only a few feet of earth, and pulled the horrid frowny mask out of my bag. I scowled at it, but it made my chest ache as I did.

I tossed it gently into the “grave,” and as I thought about how I had failed to find my closest friend to bury him here, I finally felt myself start truly crying. The fabric just lay in the hole, mimicking my expression and almost begging for the bitter glare I sent at it. 

“Brian, if you can hear me… I’ll see you at Lemon.” I said with a wavering chuckle, referencing an old inside joke we’d had. It brought more bittersweet tears to my eyes, remembering the last time I’d said that joke out loud. It had to have been years ago, now. “I’ll never forget you.” I said, with a weak grin. 

Then I scowled at the mask again. “And whatever the hell you are… The Operator, ‘Hoodie,’ whoever— you better leave him the fuck alone. Forever.” I said as I kicked dirt over the mask, until it was out of my sight, hopefully for the rest of my life. I wanted to remember Brian by his real face. Not whatever this mockery was.

Finally done, I looked over the freshly finished graves. I wanted to stick around. Sit down and have a break. Think of something more meaningful to say to these people, my friends whose lives I ruined by just being around them. I needed more time with them. I couldn’t leave them so soon. 

But the light shining through the trees told me the moon would be setting soon, and without the grueling task to focus on, I was beginning to become paranoid with all these trees surrounding me. I couldn’t stay here with them. I couldn’t see them, ever again. Not until I joined them. Which wouldn’t be for a long fucking time if I had anything to say about it. I couldn’t let The Operator win like that. Not after everything it took from me. From them.

I patted Jay's hat hooked to my belt loop. I pulled Alex's glasses from my duffle bag and slipped them in my pocket. I grabbed Brian's hoodie and carried it over my shoulder. When I got home, where that would be now, I'd put these somewhere safe. Somewhere I'd remember, so I would never forget everything that had happened. Everyone that I had lost. 

I put all the grave digging supplies and trash bags back into my duffle bag, fully prepared to dispose of it as soon as physically possible. I carried it all back to my car, and though I wasn’t carrying as much as I was on the way in, my back still ached from all I had done tonight. When I reached my car, I shoved the bag into my trunk for the final time, and walked around the vehicle to reach the driver's side door. I opened it with a cachunk, and peered behind me into the woods one final time.

“Goodbye.” 

I got in my car and drove away.

[feral-babe]

Ace of Horns / Lanternfly (Pyrops whiteheadii)

Upright keywords: Breakthroughs, Concentration, New Ideas, Truth

Reverse keywords: Argument, Confusion, Hostility, Miscommunication

In nature, horns serve as tools of both defense and assertion. Each card within this suit exude sharpness of thought and piercing truth. The Ace of Horns betokens the pursuit of absolute clarity amid the swirling mists of confusion, unveiling truths obscured by uncertainty. Symbolizing the raw unyielding might of the mind, this card indicates a moment of revelation that guides us towards the light of understanding. As with all of the Aces, this card indicates a momentous step forward.

Lanternflies are known for their distinctive and elongated 'horn', which is actually an extension of their head. Sheathed within this hollow structure is a proboscis they use to pierce plants and feed on sap. Mirroring such precision, this card emphasizes the crucial role of mental acumen and astute decision making - championing reason as the pathway to triumphant breakthroughs.  

 Suggesting the seeker is on the cusp of a new understanding or a significant mental shift, the appearance of this card demands we slice through doubt, see things as they truly are, and approach situations with a clear and focused mind. Knowledge is the key to unlocking the shackles of ignorance and fear.

The Lesson Of This Card: "Clarity and truth illuminate the path I choose to follow."

The Big Bug Gospel Tarot is Live on Kickstarter!

[paintedscales]

Sightseeing Log entry #62 :: Minotaur Malm

"There lies a pathway called the Minotaur Malm just a small ways from the Forgotten Springs that the Seeker tribe of U calls home. Last I was here, there were those who used the area for training. It's a bit...small for any kind of training I'd be interested in. The day that Estinien and I happened to walk through it, it was empty. It was rather nice to have the place to ourselves."

Extras:

[beardedmrbean]

Migrants making their way through Mexico en route to the southern United States border say they want to cross by November, in case legal routes are closed off to them if Donald Trump wins the presidential election.

Hundreds of people from around a dozen countries left Mexico's southern border on Sunday, heading north on the 1,800-plus mile journey to one of the border crossings with the U.S.

Some told the Associated Press that they were hard-working people who just wanted to reach a better life in America, but they feared a second Trump term would put a stop to that.

"We are running the risk that permits (to cross the border) might be blocked," Miguel Salazar, a migrant from El Salvador, told the AP.

Trump has promised tougher border controls and mass deportations as part of his 2024 campaign.

The permits that Salazar mentioned would come from U.S. Customs and Borer Protection's app, CBP One, which allows asylum seekers to make appointments at border crossings, but only once migrants reach Mexico City or northern parts of the country.

In June 2024, around 41,800 appointments were made through the app, but more than double that number made the crossing illegally.

While there are just under four months until the presidential election and six before the next president takes office, the path through Mexico has become harder and more time consuming for migrants in recent months.

Authorities there have been trying to ease the pressure on the U.S.-Mexico border, with President Andrés Manuel López Obrador arguing in June that his policy protected migrants from a "risky" crossing to the north.

His successor and mentee, President-Elect Claudia Sheinbaum, is widely expected to hew closely to his policies when she assumes office in October.

Some of those joining this latest caravan in Ciudad Hidalgo, close to the border with Guatemala, found out about it on social media, including Cuban Oswaldo Reyna, 55.

Reyna spoke out against Trump's claims that migrants were invading the U.S.

"We are not delinquents," he told the AP. "We are hard-working people who have left our country to get ahead in life, because in our homeland we are suffering from many needs."

New arrivals from South America, who have often already hiked hundreds of miles across difficult terrain, gather in southern cities waiting for permits to travel further into Mexico, some seeking asylum there, while others want to make it to the U.S.

The International Rescue Committee said in June that many struggled with misinformation about legal pathways to asylum or immigrant visas, either in the U.S. or Mexico, while many women and children suffer abuse on their journeys.

At the U.S. border, crossings were sharply limited by President Biden in June, when he introduced a cap on asylum seeker allowances.