#aether's diary ☆

[aetherthewitch]

my arrival~☆

So, you may be just a tad bit curious how I arrived in the Devildom. It really is one hell of a story to tell. One evening I was just minding my own business, sitting at my desk and drawing away like I always do. Well, it must have gotten pretty late that night, before the last thing I remember was leaning back in my chair and resting my eyes for a few. And next thing I knew, I was falling. You know those weird dreams where you feel like you're falling, about to hit the ground, and you jolt awake? Yeah, well, this wasn't a dream, and when I jolted awake, I had the surprise of a lifetime. Where do I even begin?

Do I start with the room full of gorgeous demons eyeing me down? Or the insane surge of magical energy that I felt suddenly coursing through my veins? Of course, both were extremely overwhelming. My senses were always a bit sensitive, but this was on a whole other level. It's like energy was pouring into every single nerve ending, while every one of my senses were dialed up to 100 simultaneously. It almost felt as though I was going to spontaneously combust, and catch the room on fire - like the energy within me was too much for the mortal container that is my body. I'll never forget that moment. And while I'm trying to get my bearings, and figure out how to get this 'feeling' under control, some dark-haired dude tried to start lecturing me about something or other - I now know that was Lucifer himself.

Well, apparently whatever happened on my journey here was unexpected for all of us, because the King cut off his lecture to have a small sidebar with his council. After that, they kind of told me a bit of what was going on - that I'm a witch, and the energy I have is actual magic. That I will not only go to my regular classes, but have extensive training with the other human at the school - the Sorcerer named Solomon. Huh, how funny is that? This dude has been around here for thousands of years, and has to access his power through spell books and talismans. And I just drop my silly non-binary ass into Hell and get imbued with raw power. Life really is funny, sometimes. But he has been very kind with his teachings, and quite helpful as well. He's currently helping me with my quest for knowledge on shape-shifting magic and it's been a wild experience so far, to say the least.

Anyways, they also told me that in addition to daily sessions with Solomon, I will also be studying regularly with Satan. Despite everyone trying to make me scared of him, I have always been kind of intrigued by him. I feel like there is so much that can be learned from the actual Personification of Wrath - especially since most people's rumors and assumptions about him are just flat out incorrect. Still, he knows a ton about the dark arts - and I, for one, am interested in learning all I can. I don't plan to do anything crazy, but it never hurts to learn what you're up against. Plus, I'm not opposed to a blood ritual every now and then.

On the other hand, I've been told that I will also have a few lessons with this angel named Simeon, starting in the next few days. I've yet to meet him in my couple of weeks here - apparently he had some emergency business he had to attend to back in his home realm. Or so I've been told, at least. I've gotten a few weird looks around here when I ask too much about the angels. Maybe it's because I'm mostly around demons? I dunno. Either way, I am to study light magic with him when he returns this week.

And to top it all off, I have Mammon - the demon who has been charged with the task of 'human sitter.' I'm still getting used to having to have him escorting me everywhere - and especially getting used to his constant complaining. Although he is kinda cute, and I don't think he means half the idiotic things he says. Hanging out with him is usually pretty fun and random, although I've already seen him get in trouble a few times. I've made it my mission to not get strung up alongside him, but I'm not sure how long that will last. I'd take bets but Mammon would want a huge cut of it.

They haven't really decided where I am to live yet permanently - there has been quite a bit of back and forth about it, apparently. I was supposed to live with the Demon Brothers originally, yet with the developments of my little unexpected gift (and their concerns over my ability to control it), both Solomon and Lord Diavolo have given reasons for why I should reside with them instead. The King says it's so he can keep it under control, should anything happen, while still being able to protect me. The Sorcerer's argument was simply that I should live with my mentor, and be able to receive teachings around the clock. And Lucifer, the ever-prideful demon that he is, scoffs at them both - over confident in his ability to be able to do all of the above. Barbatos always interrupts with a sly remark - that such a powerful council should be able to figure out where to keep one magical human. And so they always end up back at square one - or at least, it has the three times they have had this meeting so far. And so, for now at least, we have this strange magical door situation. Barbatos really has some astounding powers, for he was able to connect everyone's bedroom doors into a single hallway, as if we all live together. I don't even know what my address technically is at this point.

It's only been a few weeks, but I can already tell this is going to be one hell of a journey.

☆ aetherthewitch 2024 ☆ do not copy, repost or modify ☆

[tales-from-the-aether-ttrpg]

I have an idea for a pre-written Adventure that revolves around a casino where instead of money, you bet years of your life. When you enter, you are given coins that represent the years left of your natural life span and you can spend them in games of chance to either earn more years or lose those years permanently.

It would be a noncombat adventure with far more of a focus on social elements and mini games of chance. Potentially something you can drop into any campaign for a brief relief from the main plot. The players could come out dead, nearly immortal, or the same if they are lucky.

[harushururu]

Finished playing Navia's quest today!!

I liked the part where we took photos with her. SHES SO COOL AND STRONG WE ARE BLONDE BESTIES. PARTNER FOR LIFE.

[imjustagayfish]

Oh my fucking god. THE GIRL WHO VOICES LYNETTE ALSO VOICED LUCINDA FROM FUCKING APHMAU HOLY SHIT.

Oh. My. God. AETHER’S VOICE ACTOR ALSO VOICED FOR APHMAU HOLY SHIT.

It wasn’t in Mystreet though it was one of Jess’s side series, Meteora valley, he voiced zero.

[elizabethaethertownusa]

From diary last night

When I try to write in a straightforward discursive way, making explicit all my travel points, I always seem to leave my own mind and reasoning almost immediately. Even here, when I am alone. I combine and recombine, with my real thoughts manipulatively concealed, apparent in flashes and only if you are looking.

It is because one of my fundamental beliefs, one of my concept-shaping beliefs, is that I cannot make myself understood. I am driven almost completely by my need to speak, and I am maybe to a crazy degree certain that I ought to be listened to, and I am also certain that by no means can I ever make myself understood or understandable.

I am only really honest when I am able to leave much of my process elided—as I am in fiction and poetry. I can be accurate there because my concern is almost never "how can I say this in a way which will be understood" and always "how can I say this as accurately as possible". It seems like maybe I need liberation from the effort to be understood in order to accurately describe my own thoughts. This seems, emotionally, to require that I leave steps out.

I don't think it is intrinsically required. And my need to be liberated from the anxiety I associate with making myself understood—my fundamental despair of being understood—is different from a need to leave reason, or accuracy, or coherence, or reality. My anxiety does not have to do with what is understandable or expressible: I am anxious that I will not be followed. When I begin, as soon as I begin, to make an effort to be followed, I begin to alter what I mean to say. Only when I move without any concern about whether or not I will be followed, as I move in fiction and poetry, do I write with any depth.

For me, for now, the emotional mechanism by which I access this confidence is elision. It might not be necessary forever. I think it is necessary aesthetically maybe. It is sacred for sure.

[blushingtendertiel]

Im so sorry baby snapper the fr fanbase has betrayed you

[apollo-zero-one]

Hey squad I just spent literally 3 hours writing out a post and when I finally hit send Tumblr said "Whoops! Try again?" And did Not save it as a draft, so, um, I'm just going to go to bed now.

[i-eat-cars-and-berriesss]

Am I in love with a green stoner wolf who told me to go on a diet? Yes.

[ashplaysfr]

MY AETHER BABIES HATCHED!! LOOK AT THEM THEY ARE SO CUTE!!

[napoftustar]

not my planner matching with deja vu studio choom thumbnail.. heh

[aetherthewitch]

So, I guess it's official - I'm a full time resident of the House of Lamentation. Apparently my room was technically always here, but everything is just so damn overwhelming - all the lectures and arguments, on top of being in school again...ugh. But I think I'm starting to settle into this place. At least, a little bit.

I am wholeheartedly convinced that Lucifer absolutely loathes me. It always feels like he's looking at me with such contempt, and now I know for sure - he only fought so hard to keep me in his House out of his twisted sense of Pride. He clearly thinks I'm just some weak human, a burden - then why didn't he just turn me over to my mentor? He's even casually threatened my life a couple of times! Over silly shit too, like wanting to go to the damn House library at night. He could have let me live anywhere else but here. Purgatory, the Castle. But nope. These demons and their damn sins.

Whatever. I can usually go most of the day without having to deal with his icy personality. Mammon and I are starting to fall into a groove - that adorable idiot. We have quite a bit of fun together - we're like two ADHD peas in a pod. That is, at least, when he isn't getting us into trouble. I love having him as my pact mate but he sure does drag me into a lot of his shenanigans! Which probably contributes to Lucifer's contempt of me. Whatever, I always try to stop him if the plan sounds truly idiotic. But sometimes he has some good ideas! Or at least some fun ones. This last Friday he took me out to the club, and let's just say we made a killing scamming bets from unsuspecting demons. Guess there is an upside to Demonus having no effect on me - just wish it also tasted a bit better. Although there was this one random that tried to get a bit handsy and weird with me, but Mammon cleared his ass so quickly that no one saw a thing. He can be such an amazing guy sometimes...anyways! We made enough money to get a private room that night. And things did get awfully spicy. Mammon will never admit it though! I tried bringing it up a few times and he just kept stammering about how he was drunk, and how he'd never fuck a human. HAHA. Sure, bro. I think he's trying to convince himself.

OH! I almost forgot. Tomorrow is the TSL challenge I have with Leviathan. Hopefully this can bring us a bit closer together because that demon really does assume A LOT about me. If he gave me the chance he'd see that I'm actually a lot like him, in a plethora of ways. Very autistic ways, haha. But I guess I have to meet him where he's at on this one. Which is fine because I'm actually quite invested in TSL and I've been able to spend more time with Beelzebub as a result of it! That dude really is just a giant, demonic teddy bear. Very intimidating (and I'd never be caught dead trying to steal his food) but he really is quite possibly the sweetest demon I've met here yet. And he gives the best hugs!

Anyways, we're watching the series finale tonight, in preparation for the big battle tomorrow. I have a few tricks up my sleeve thanks to Satan and Simeon, so it all should go quite well. I've heard the Prince is going to be there, which I'm quite excited about (I could write a whole other post about him, but let's not). He's so gorgeous and dreamy, and I never get to spend enough time with him. But that's normal, I guess. He is the King Regent after all. Hopefully nothing embarrassing happens at this silly little event - leave it to me to do something stupid in front of the Demon Prince I'm crushing on. Asmo is gonna come over early to make sure I look perfect for the event. Hopefully everything goes according to plan!

[tales-from-the-aether-ttrpg]

Little update:

Tales from the Aether Beta V2 is very close to completion!

All I’ve got left on the to do list is to finish updating the Abjuration and Alteration spell lists, revamp the Archetypes to account for new feats and spells, and thats it!

Once its ready for release, I’m going to be opening the discord for more play testers so if that would interest you, send me a message or ask!

To learn more about tales from the aether, check out my pinned post!

[pokedolls-mizuki-43ds]

ahhh ha ha ha ha.... it;s about time you learned what i learned today.

i just found out that my girlfriend's mom has her own multi-level marketing skincare brand called aurelia cosmrtics.

[duckprintspress]

18 Recommendations for National Science Fiction Day!

Today, January 2nd, is National Science Fiction Day. To celebrate, we asked DPP contributors what their favorite queer sci-fi reads are and we ended up with a list 18 awesome books! Recommendations made by Sebastian Marie, Shadaras, Mikki Madison, Sanne, Nina Waters, Shannon, Alex, Dei Walker, and an anonymous contributor.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Aether Beyond the Binary Anthology

A Memory Called Empire (Teixcalaan series) by Arkady Martine

Unconquerable Sun (The Sun Chronicles series) by Kate Elliott

Firebreak by Nicole Kornher-Stace

The Genesis of Misery by Neon Yang

Empress of Forever by Max Gladstone

All Systems Red (The Murderbot Diaries series) by Martha Wells

A Closed and Common Orbit (Wayfarers series) by Becky Chambers

The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

Little Mushroom by Yi Shi Si Zhou

Project Nought by Chelsey Furedi

On a Sunbeam by Tillie Walden

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone

Ocean’s Echo (Winter’s Orbit series) by Everina Maxwell

Seven of Infinities by Aliette de Bodard

The Archive Undying (The Downworld Sequence series) by Emma Mieko Candon

What are your favorite queer sci-fi books?

This is the third time we’ve done a rec list for National Sci-Fi Day! You can check out the 2023 list here and the 2024 list here!

You can find these and more queer sci-fi book we love on our Goodreads sci-fi book shelf.

See anything you like? Buy it through the Duck Prints Press Bookshop.org affiliate shop.

Need a place to chat about your favorite books? Join us in our Book Lover’s Discord server!

[elizabethaethertownusa]

There has been surgery stuff in my life lately (not me). So please enjoy some sections from the diaries I kept just before a pretty low-key surgery in '21.

Thursday March 4th, ’21

Ate all of 2 Kind bars today then went to get my blood taken. My memory of last time—at Quest, first with pseudocovid then a few weeks later—was so neutral that I hadn’t really thought about this so much. Building under construction, yellow light moving in gap between big BEAR WITH US, GROWING HEALTH NEEDS OF THE VALLEY posters covering windows, seated at angles from others waiting—in [Place name] Hospital, not Quest. Memories of dad's accident. Thought it’d be quick.

The cubicles I’d forgotten about entirely from last time. An intake nurse who called an old man Honey and talked to him like a child. He told her how he’d been doing. I thought that maybe when you are old and ill the intensity of your involvement in your own illness changes the way you hear their condescension—maybe all you hear is their asking what seems to you to be natural questions about how much you’ve eaten etc. This nurse did not like me. Now I think of so many women in so many offices in school. “She’s so cute,” she said to a nurse about an old lady 2 feet away. This is the type of woman with somebody’s head in her fridge.

She asked if I needed a “companion” to walk me to the lab. Really that was an adorable way to put it and thinking of it now I soften toward her. I just don’t like it when people condescend to old folks.

Through the miserable halls just like dad's accident. Gray-green and practically tick-hum tick-hum lights like in a movie. Following the ELEVATORS LOBBY stickers on the ground. Everyone looking at me curiously. No other patients walking. As she asked if I wanted a companion a group of construction workers went past, orange, and one turned his rhino head and looked at my thighs up like that trucker of old. I found it delightful. When I passed them again I looked down with my eyes like that “American girl in Italy” because it seemed charming and also simple.

A person in a knit beanie with many many red spots on their face, hands on legs in wheelchair, not doing well but also rather more neutral than urgent, like a passenger in a sidecar, a minor clamor among nurses, this person is from the addiction center, blue square fronts of nurses and this passing, but really I am passing, awkwardly trying not to march in time with a nurse later nor to overtake her but when somebody looked at me as if I were robbing her I just sped up for the elevators.

Two windows facing each other radiology and lab like a prison in a movie. Like they’ll take my belt and wallet. Tiny room. Disney channel shouting. Raven’s House. I thought about how short and united the line of time had been from That’s So Raven to whatever this was. Has life always been so short? To children now it must be impossibly far away. But it is very close to me. Really scary dialogue. Put all those Disney producers in jail. It is scary because of its perfection, like Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney, and its bizarre, McNugget material of adult comedy, that is, comedy which is popular with adults, made perfect and miniature.

The old man from before was wheeled in. “Do you want me to leave him facing the window or do you want him on the side?” Oh that’s fine. So he stayed facing the window, close enough to me in my chair to touch. I sense he was ashamed but I may have been projecting that. Maybe there was a red-purple dot on his jaw or maybe not. Not shaven well. But I tried not to look. I thought about asking where HE would like to sit but I erred on my Chicagoan default of It would shame him to be acknowledged.

Nurse long blonde-white hair Swarovski glasses which we talked about. Weird little back area, PLEASE DO NOT PUT SAMPLES HERE, spare gurney maybe—not a clear sense of what surrounded me. Little folding arms chair. I remembered suddenly that they can’t get a vein if you’re dehydrated. On the counter vials with pretty caps, pink and yellow and blue, and was there orange? Like a pumpkin candy corn? She said “Let me guess … you absolutely love needles,” and for some reason I made a Trainspotting joke. Long thin goodlooking woman, yoga type, nor young nor old.

I didn’t look because I remembered that one funny time when the cheerful young nurse showed me my vial and the world warped like one of those sheets you wobble to make thunder noises. Blood was coming slowly. “You’re so teeny tiny,” she remarked earlier while trying to get a vein. I began to feel off and said something about it. She said we were more than halfway done. "They asked for a lot of tests." That we were more than halfway done was good to me but also bad, and I asked if I would need a second shot. The first going in had really hurt. She said no and then looking at the caps I made a joke about how it wasn’t really a shot. She laughed in recognition but yes it’s the same needle. Same species I said. Only nothing’s going in only coming out she said. I began to feel that ominous jack frost lace ice crawl up my cheekbones and temples.

Mister Pickwick voice appeared. I wonder if I might pass out, I said. Nearly there. I was better and then worse. And now it gets legitimately interesting. Interesting to experience and to think about again. Oh dear oh dear I may genuinely pass out. Fever ripple and suddenly my cheekbones frigid and sweating. I got all I need, cheerful and comforting me. I’ll stay with you as long as you need. Absolute nausea pluge and blackening eyes. “Oh dear oh dear,” I said. “I’m so sorry. This has never happened before.” I couldn’t see. I actually made the ehue ehue sound you make to pretend to cry. It was like the gravity in dreams but located in my intestines rather than the kind of erotic—though awful—dream-falling. And the same rushing as though you’re above your own falling form.

She was asking a nurse for a wet cold washcloth for my head or neck. I explained that I hadn’t eaten enough. Each time she said “She hasn’t eaten anything today,” to another nurse I corrected her, like lobbing a basketball up at an impossibly tall net: “I only ate a little. I didn’t eat enough.” I was thinking with scorn and pain of the good movie I’d watched last night, “Murder, My Sweet”, where Marlowe kept getting clubbed and drugged and the camera fills up with black from the sides like a Canadian Film Board animation—I was thinking how weak I was, watching a guy in a movie like that and identifying with him as you do and here one blood sugar drop was poignant torture, real pointed torture. So nauseous. I thought of nausea after anesthesia. I thought “I can’t do this”. Washcloth back of my neck did improve me, maybe because I willed it to. A young man nurse asking if we needed a wheel chair, there was one free. I think this was after I said “I’m afraid I’ll need someone to accompany me out.”

Take your mask off, take your mask off, early in the drop. Doublemasked per hospital law, through which I had already been having trouble breathing. Brought me ice cold water which I sipped. The young nurse had yellow points on his short braids, eyebrows up, very nice face. Do you have a history of passing out when your blood is taken? “No, no, this is the first time. I’m so sorry, guys.”

“Can you chug the water?” said the woman nurse. I had been sipping. Can I put my head down. Sure. She went to get more water. Head on the blue, airplane-blue (American Airlines) armrest, hand on my own forehead, wet and cold, dim surroundings. [I said] Thank you for your patience, etc. Came back with water, I sipped it and passed my hand over the grease mark my forehead had made really for show. Could you chug it, please. I did and asked if there was juice or something. Sugar. She asked if there was, but no, Covid or something. There’s really nothing better than chugging water! she said brightly. She was smilng and kind. Can you do a third? And I was all right after that. Guy nurse sitting on the gurney, hands between his legs like a kid on a wall. “Don’t worry, it happens all the time!” Woman nurse said, “I can’t even talk to my husband about needles. He goes ‘bleghhh!’” Hands in her blue belly, making a scrubs rumple.

I went to the bathroom, peed in the cup, surprised as always by its heat. Gratified at least that all that chugging made it easy to pee. Unsure where to put the cup. Balanced it on the trash can lid while rinsing my hands. And outside when I opened the door, close as before, the old man, me with my hot-sided sample cup of urine right there by his head. He looked at it and me. I was turning, friendly saying Where shall I put this? I had heard his voice from outside the bathroom and it was clear and strong. I wondered while turning if this would be sexually gratifying for him, the way your desires and interests get weird when you’re confined. Young woman with her breasts on display with a cup of her own recent urine—like a complete nudity; this will be porn in the future; simultaneity of all concealed body—better than Baudrillard, because I see that the organs themselves, still inside and functioning but somehow seen, will become objects of sexual interest. “Just set it there,” said the young man, and the woman said “I can take it.” I gave it to her and I thanked again, earnestly, for her kindness and patience.

While it happened I felt helpless and pathetic, but almost immediately after, I was glad at how strange and interesting it was.