#if i need to tag anything else just lmk!

[800db-cloud]

spare some spy hcs? 👀

OKAY. ok. so i have been putting off answering this ask because i’m admittedly very shy and very afraid of sharing my headcanons. and also because i have A LOT OF THEM.. but here we are!

here are my headcanon spies :) René works for RED and Jacques works for BLU!

where to start, where to start… i have a LOT of headcanons for them, i’ll be talking for FOREVER here. i’ll just start with story because why not! xP

René’s parents were also agents/spies, so he was always destined to be one as well. And he lives up to his parents’ legacies! He’s most notorious for destroying gangs and mobs and the like from the outside in. He was brought to America years ago to take out a dangerous mob boss, but unfortunately found himself infatuated (and involved) with the boss’ daughter. Luckily for him, the boss’ daughter wanted the guy dead, too.

René’s story is honestly a lot more fleshed out than Jacques’, but here goes anyway:

Jacques’ father was a very rich and powerful man in politics. Jacques himself was the result of an affair, and to keep it hush-hush, his father decided to raise him. Raise is a strong word, though— but he did help his father gain intelligence and blackmail on opposing political parties. Jacques proved to be a promising spy since childhood.

If anyone has any suggestions/ideas for Jacques’ story, let me know haha x) he didn’t have the greatest upbringing per se…

last thing on this section i wanna talk about is the Scouts. René is related to both of the Scouts; he’s RED Scout (Jeremy)’s biological father, and he’s BLU Scout (James)’ adoptive/step-father. Jacques has no relation to either scout, but acts as a guardian figure to BLU Scout.

anyway, this is the part where i continue talking about other miscellaneous headcanons! and these come with doodles :)

You couldn’t catch René DEAD without his mask, or his suit! He’d neeever take them off around other people (‘other people’ is mainly just Scout. For obvious reasons.) Meanwhile, Jacques is pretty lenient in letting his teammates see his face! Everyone on BLU’s seen his face at least once.

A big part of why René refuses to strip down is also due to the fact he has a LOT of tattoos. No doodle for this one because I’ve yet to decide on what tattoos to put on him (ideas are very welcome!!), but yeah! Most of the tattoos were ‘forced’ onto him/he had to get for jobs and ‘fitting in’ with bad crowds, but a good few of them were of his own accord, too.

Jacques doesn’t have tattoos, but he has a myriad of another thing: scars! Lots and lots of scars on this guy. Faded and old, sure, but they’re there. Most prominent ones are the one around his neck (from when the RED Medic beheaded him) and the ones on his forearms (those are from the LAST time he was imprisoned— looong story…)

René doesn’t cook very often for his team, but when he does, everyone’s always BLOWN AWAY by this guy’s cooking! René’s really bad at taking compliments, though— (“Cooking food that’s remotely edible isn’t a compliment, it’s basic survival.”) —but rest assured he’ll be thinking about it for the next month. Jacques, however… Do NOT let this guy into the kitchen. Ever. The BLU base has a special fire extinguisher “In Case Spy Decides To Turn On The Stove”

oooh, this one is an hc and a HALF to me. René much prefers working alone. It’s just in his nature, being isolated and whatnot. He likes to deal with things by himself– maybe he doesn’t want to burden others? On the contrary, Jacques NEVER works alone. It’s a trait he’s had even before being hired to BLU. You never know when things could go wrong, so it’s best to have someone else to fall back to… or someone else you can blame!

these hcs both have something to do with how René and Jacques show their trust in other people :) it’s a bit convoluted but it gets there:

René is, amusingly, very bad at remembering names. Almost laughably bad. There have been many-a-story of his days before RED where he’d get a target’s name wrong, even after he’d repeated it in his head dozens of times over. Names are difficult for him, so if he remembers yours, it means you mean a lot to him! He prefers using his teammates’ names rather than their titles. René is unaware of how charming this specifc trait is to his coworkers (they saw how much work and effort it took for him to memorize their names, they’re just happy with how far he’s come!)

Jacques has a… to put simply, very complicated relationship with food. But the one thing he’ll never turn down is sweets. His favorites especially being chocolate bonbons. Jacques has a hard time eating in front of others, let alone sharing his food! But if he genuinely likes and trusts you enough, he’d have half the mind to share with you. Admittedly, he hasn’t brought himself to share with most of the members of his team yet, except for a select few. Mostly BLU Medic and BLU Sniper.

—

and of course, eventually, EVENTUALLY, these two also become friends! it took a little bit but believe me, they both respect each other’s skill in their job :)

AHHg i could go sooo much longer about them— from things like their physical traits (how much teeth they have? it’s a pressing question) or different periods of their life (why did rené have to leave his family? why was jacques imprisoned for the last time?) BUT this post is so… so, so long. My fingers hurt from typing

If you’ve managed to read through this Beast, THANK YOU RAAHH!!! thanks so much for asking this, too. i hope to spare more hcs someday. hehe ^_^

[prism-empurress]

Hello! I got an idea, ran with it, got it beta'd by @circusfable, and now here it is! I don't have a witty title for this one, it's just called... Out in the Field. Hope you enjoy! ---

They couldn’t breathe. Their already poor vision was blurring. Siffrin’s heart hammered in his chest as he took off running. He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t remember what he was doing, he just...knew he had to escape. Even though he tripped a few times, dirtying his pants and cloak, he kept getting up and ran further.

Finally, he collapsed on his hands and knees out into an open field, taking shaky, ragged breaths. But all he could feel was ice. Ice in his veins, his blood, his fingers. His brain screamed for him to get away, but his body screamed for mercy. Burning hot tears fell into the soft soil. Siffrin choked on his own spit as he gripped the grass. Begging the Universe to not send him back to the accursed loops. “Please,” he begged. “Please don’t send me back. I can’t do it again.” Footsteps approached. Siffrin whipped their head around, and saw Isabeau calmly approaching.

“Sif…” Isabeau sighed, sitting next to him. “Siffrin. What happened?” Siffrin hugged their sides, trying to wrangle the words out of their throat. All that came out was foolish stumbling and nonsensical noises. Suddenly, there was warmth. Isabeau gently placed a hand on Siffrin’s back, just below the shoulder blades. Siffrin took a breath, in and out. “I don’t know.” Siffrin gnawed at his lip. “I don’t know.” “Was it...a certain smell?” Isabeau asked. Siffrin shook his head. “Did someone repeat something?”

...Siffrin nodded, but didn’t want to repeat what he had heard. Hesitantly, he scooted closer to Isabeau, but he felt incredibly selfish. Selfishness corroded his insides. They squeezed their sides tighter to try and quell it. Isabeau then wrapped his arms around them, holding them close. “You’re out of the loops, Sif,” he said softly. “...B…” Siffrin winced, trying to make at least one word come out. One name. “Bonnie…?” “Bonnie?” Isabeau repeated. “Bonnie’s okay.” Siffrin released his grip on himself just a tiny bit, “Odile?” “Odile’s okay, too.” “M-Mira…?” “She’s good.”

Siffrin sighed with relief, hesitantly taking one of Isabeau’s hands into their own. And finally looked him in the eye.

His eyes showed deep concern, but reflected in them was the light of the stars. Siffrin clutched their head, tearing away from Isabeau’s gaze. “Hey. Hey hey,” Isabeau said softly. “I...I can’t…” Siffrin choked out. “Can’t...what?” He asked, tilting a brow at them. “I can’t look at them right now.” “Huh?” Isabeau looked around, then finally up. Oh. “The stars?” “I can’t look at them right now,” Siffrin repeated, fighting back more tears. “It’s okay, Sif. Do you want to come inside?” He offered.

Siffrin shook his head, gripping Isabeau’s large hand tighter. “We can stay out here; it’s fine with me.” He smiled.

They struggled again, why couldn’t they make normal words come out of their mouth? Sighing, they gave up, and pointed to their own chest. “Hurts,” they said. “Hurts…? Oh. Your heart?”

Siffrin nodded. “What’s making it hurt, Sif?” Isabeau ran his thumb across the back of Siffrin’s hand. Siffrin merely pointed upwards, sighing heavily. He then drew in the dirt, without taking his glove off. He drew himself, broken into multiple pieces, surrounded by stars. Isabeau examined the dirt picture intently, trying to decode it. “You feel...broken?” He asked. Siffrin nodded.

“It’s okay to feel broken, Sif.” Isabeau smiled. “What matters is you pick up the pieces and make something new out of them. Rebuild yourself, one step at a time.” Stars. He was crying again. Silently at first, then full on weeping. The dam fully burst, nothing was holding the onslaught of water back, now.

But Isabeau just held him tightly, rubbing his back. “You’re safe, Sif,” he whispered. “And...if you want, I can hug your pieces back together.” Siffrin clung to Isabeau, weeping. Even though Isabeau’s turtleneck was getting soaked, Isabeau kept holding onto him. Finally. Siffrin could speak again.

“Thank you,” they croaked,, wiping their face on their sleeve. “I...I don’t know what got into me.”

“It happens.” Isabeau shrugged. “Now...how about a nice hot meal?”

“I’d like that.” Siffrin smiled.

They both got up, Siffrin dusting himself off, and Isabeau still holding onto his hand. Isabeau glanced at the stars, wondering what about them exactly put Siffrin in so much anguish. But right now, Siffrin’s family was waiting for him. Tomorrow morning, they planned to go fishing. Siffrin and Bonnie would actually be the ones fishing, as Isabeau hates touching worms. Mirabelle and Odile would be there, too, and all of them would make many more memories. Memories that would replace the forgotten ones that cannot be retrieved. Out with the old, in with the new.

[dinoserious]

ichor, and the fated end

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

looking for fics be so fine like yes. premise is interesting. word count is lengthy. vibing with the prose on the blurb. and then you spot the glaring doc/marty tag on the top and it's like oh never mind. abort mission ig.

[mercless]

i would like to know more about hn talon's feathery ailment ... is it their demonic nature clashing with the angelic blood that is resulting in their worsening condition ? is there a reason why it is specifically feathers / bird-likeness as opposed to anything else ( i.e. would other demons undergo similar transformations if they also got contaminated with angel blood ) ? can you share more about how you envision the progression and prognosis ? will it kill them or will there be some sort of final stage of their transformation ( whether that's a bad thing because it only gets worse and worse , or a good thing because maybe now that it is complete , they won't be in as much pain and discomfort 🥺 ) ? is it at all affected by whatever they're doing / thinking / feeling / experiencing ( tamagotchi talon ... ) ? what do they do to manage their condition ? does it make them self-conscious or feel badly about their physical appearance ?

"-But it looks like the angels ain't done with you."

I don't recommend that anyone ingests angel blood (good thing that's a difficult thing to do these days) but I wouldn't want to definitively say how it works for anyone else either. and I think it makes sense if talon isn't too sure either, with not meeting anyone else in a similar predicament as they (yet... will get to this later) but say if it were another angel Talon had attacked and drank the blood of, I believe they would still be having similar symptoms, as angels are quite feathery beings (varus with his arm of feathers, irelia with her wings and other choicely placed feathers.) But the particular angel they stole from has had a specific impact on just how the blood has changed them.

The reason for their worsening condition is because the blood has a powerful influence, like an undiluted acid. And it is so dramatic of an change because this influence is the polar opposite to their demonic existence. The more that Talon fights against the changes, the less symbiotic the blood and their demonic nature melds, the more violent and painful the experience is for them. And without any interference either with understanding or other experiences, I see it as a bitter, drawn-out struggle. Just wallowing in fatalism until Talon is nothing more than an unrecognisable pile of bile, blood, and feathers that tore itself apart...

Fortunately for them, the more Talon interacts with their rotting world and the people (and creatures) also struggling in it, the more they will come to terms with their own potential, and reflect on how they can be something more than what they once were. Learning that they don't have to let their worst action define their existence. More than just accepting what they did, and putting in the effort to understand emotions and how to be an active part of life, will mean they are not stubbornly fighting against their affliction. This will increase the speed of it's progression, but also be far less painful of an experience since they won't be actively fighting against it. When Talon is unable to call upon any of their demonic abilities anymore, the physical changes of the affliction will be complete, but they will continue to learn and better themself in an attempt to make up for all the wrong and pain they have caused in their existence. I can picture this happening in two or three decades time, in which there is no longer any hellfire, brimstone or summoned weapons. Talon is no longer a demon, but maybe by then they'll also know if the powers that be would accept a malformed, inexperienced, makeshift samaritan as a stand-in. But that's a hopeful thought, thinking they'll live that long.

Going back to the symptoms of the affliction. Previously, Talon's form was one of shadow and brimstone, and they were able to phase in and out of being corporeal at will. Over time, this ability has been weakened - only able to vanish as a shadow for a moment at a time. Brimstone skin was made brittle until it fell away to soft flesh, hollow bone, and hair. Feathers have begun sprouting through this softer skin too, mostly across their left shoulder, arm and chest, but are beginning to sprout along their throat too. Talon used to pull them out by hand, but has forfeited the fight. Back to the left arm, a sort of carapace has begun to form over their left hand, along the thumb's metacarpal and back of the hand in layers of grey ash and weathered gold. This and the growth of the feathers is very similar to Varus' - the angel in which Talon killed and drunk the blood of - own feathers and angelic arm. But without any of the matching powers, it is a far less grand sight.

Although still considerably hot to the touch, Talon's core temperature has drastically lowered compared to the past. Whatever organs of malice and bile a demon has have made way for a growth in their chest, helping pump the foul angelic blood and pesky emotions around their body routinely, and push out more of their demonic essence every day, little by little. With this, it has already made their demonic powers incredibly weakened. Previously Talon also used to be able to disintegrate bodies with a slice of their hellish blades, but they just do not run hot enough anymore. The final physical symptom are their eyes. Once filled with hellfire, it is far more likely nowadays to see their extinguished, golden-brown irises instead. It is slightly controllable with their emotional state, or when using their powers though.

In other ways, the blood has made Talon far more empathetic, given them a conscience. Troubled with how their actions will effect others now, the suffering and cruelty of the world has become a pain all it's own. Dulling the delight in spreading fear and even disturbing the once simple exchange of souls, Talon is often contemplating their next course of action instead of only giving thought to their best interests. And how their previous, often violent actions, have caused so much.

The agony and illness of coughing up feathers and demonic bile leaves talon haggard and frail. Getting sleep and relaxation would help the most, but with their paranoia it is difficult for them to find places to fully lower their guard and properly rest. Talon's tried to get a room in the crossroad saloon before, but it's... never really worked out (Gragas doesn't let them). Hating and damning the ailment only makes it worse, since it's basically like trying to separate themself from something that has already been mixed in. Feathers get stuck in their many teeth, skin itches from keratin growing in. Fatigue and sensitivity to their own heartbeat. Talon tries their best to hide the majority of their symptoms. Their coughs and exhaustion are the most obvious.

For how the changed made by the affliction is making talon feel... I'm going to paraphrase from a previous message;

I say its dysmorphic but the more I think about it, it's also… having your health decline and your body changing along with it, at least with talons perspective right now since they're losing their demonic powers. dysphoric in the way that they're still holding on to the thought that this isn't what they're supposed to be, they're Supposed to be a being of shadow and hellfire not flesh and bone, let alone feathers and sympathy. so I want it to be much more about accepting that this is their body now moreso than finding a way to reverse the changes. That it's okay to change with age and wisdom as you open yourself up more to the world.

At this time, Talon misses being completely monstrous, of being frightening and having that implicit respect. They feel weaker than they really are because they continue to compare themself to the long-gone height of their power, and because their new physical changes make them feel vulnerable. Being constantly exhausted also doesn't help with any of this. Beyond this though, the only other thing they don't like about these changes is just that; it's different. The uncanny features still don't feel like that that's who they are, and there is this disconnect when others react to them, or comment on their looks.

poses I don't know, maybe Talon just needs some sort of big motivation to no longer see this affliction as a curse, but as an opportunity to be more than a demon that skulks in the shadows. And some encouragement that yes, that is in fact a good thing. Maybe like an ultimatum of some sorts.

[probablyok1]

This flowey guy is pretty cool I hope he doesn't becoming a being of unimaginable power

(Alts under the cut)

[onryousagi]

i wanna talk about maxwell in sisyphean men and its kinda suggestive and has sexual implications so im putting it under a read more. there is nothing explicit or graphic mentioned, its just more suggestive.

in sisyphean men, pre-constant, maxwell became a tom cat when he garnered enough esteem and charisma. he invited a lot of women to his place after shows or while out mingling. it was always so passionless and more performative on his end, never wanting to even kiss or face any of the women while they bumped uglies (if you catch my cold). didnt want to cuddle after, didnt want to even have the women over longer than he needed them there for.

maxwell was trying so hard to convince himself that he was straight and that he liked women. he would have sex with women, over and over again, trying to MAKE himself enjoy it. every time, after it was all said and done and the woman had left, he would bunch up into himself and feel disgusting. he didnt like what he had done. he didnt blame the women, he knew it was no ones fault but his own; he was born wrong, in his mind. he would growl in the throes of the deed whenever the image of some sweet man came to his mind and he felt actual excitement. a growl not of pleasure but of distress.

eventually, as his esteem grew and he could afford to hire an assistant, charlie made friends with a stagehand and by proxy, maxwell became acquainted with the man. maxwell fancied him, he thought he was spry and beautiful, kind and witty. the two men became closer and closer, until one night the stagehand was in maxwells bed. it was the first kiss maxwell had where his heart flutter with joy.

they didnt stop until the morning.

eventually, they began a sexual relationship, and the stagehand would often ask for them to be more. maxwell wanted more too, he was in love with this man and wanted to be with him in more ways beyond sex. but as his fame grew further, more was on the line and his ambitions outweighed his ability to sacrifice. he began to revert to internalized homophobia again, seeing this man less and less; and when they did meet, it was only in maxwells dressing room, the man facing away from him. in a dress.

the stagehand grew tired of this, he confronted maxwell and threw the dress at him, hissing, "you can dress me in whatever you fancy, but it is whats beneath that you desire!" they argue, things get heated, and maxwell declares himself to be of "sound mind" after being lured to such "depravity" by the mans womanly charm. he goes further to say that they are to never meet again and that this was over.

this obviously causes the other man to begin to cry, and maxwell feels the urge to comfort him and apologize and beg for forgiveness; but theyre interrupted by the venue owners knocking. maxwell hurriedly fixes himself and the man does the same, but as maxwell comes to whisper to him, the stagehand quietly growls, "you will die alone, maxwell carter...but not because no one didnt love you" before he sees himself out.

maxwells tried to be scorned by the stagehand cutting all contact with him, he tried to get angry and blame the other man. everything failed. there was no one to blame but his own selfishness and cowardice. he didnt want to lose his dream, but it was at the cost of his love. the stagehand left town and never wrote. maxwell broke his own heart. began to drink more and became colder inside, turning his nose at the word love.

so when maxwell begins to realize that hes falling in love with wilson in the constant, he is paralyzed. so much is running through his head. how could he love someone hes done so much wrong to, how could he be that cruel. why couldnt wilson have been born a woman, then being in love with him wouldnt be so abhorrent. why was his heart so stupid and evil, why did it allow him to fall in love again. why was he born so incorrectly, why a man. why wilson.

[coriander-candlesticks]

Introductions ✨✨

Hey! I'm Coriander. It's not what I go by in my other blogs on here but I want to keep things a bit more separate, at least at first. This is gonna be a long one (sorry) so I'm adding a cut.

I'm exploring Hellenic polytheism, and have only recently started, but it's something I've been considering, in a way, for over a year. I don't have a big, intense story that marks the beginning for me; I didn't necessarily feel a personal, spiritual connection to any of the deities from the time I was a young child in the way others describe, and I haven't had an intense experience that marked the beginning of my path.

I've always felt drawn to Greek mythology, though. I have a distinct memory of laying on my stomach on the floor of the school library in 3rd or 4th grade, reading a picture book about Hades and Persephone. It kept my attention the way others - even Egyptian mythology, another major interest - didn't. I, of course, had the classic queer kid experience of being super into the Percy Jackson series for a while, but my interest in it predated that. The specific deities I've been drawn to have changed somewhat as I've grown up, and they definitely shaped some of my interests. But delving into them again has helped me see connections that weren't explicitly connected to Greek mythology. I felt drawn to Athena growing up, for example, and my love of owls was definitely shaped by that. Even though that has settled into the background somewhat, that connection has persisted in things like my knitting and desires to dye yarn and learn how to weave (side note: I associate crochet more with Apollo, actually, despite it also being a fiber art). I felt connected to Artemis and Persephone as a kid, but that waned as I got older, discovered I was trans, and began my transition. I've felt connected to Hestia and her quiet hearth-keeping since I learned about her: I've always strived to make myself & my space safe and welcoming for others, and being told I succeeded in that is one of the best compliments I've received. But my interests in the morbid (ex Pompeii & the Paris catacombs), psychopomps, rocks & minerals, and keys weren't explicitly related to Hades. Some of the connections didn't click until I started to look into him more seriously about a year ago. I was an artist and had interests in writing, poetry, singing, and playing instruments long before it actually clicked that all of those fell into Apollo's domain, as I associated Athena far more with visual arts as a kid. I also didn't realize that he & Artemis cover diseases (another long-running interest) until very recently. The concept of xenia, too, was something I grew up with to some extent, even though no one called it that. My father modelled it to my siblings and I; I even learned about it within the context of ancient Greece at some point growing up and it stuck with me, despite not knowing the name.

I grew up Mormon, and was incredibly devout until college, when the pandemic forcibly separated me from that environment and I not only discovered that I was queer in several ways, but realized that the Church 1) wasn't safe to stay in and 2) wasn't actually true (which came later, when I started to get over my fear of reading "anti-Mormon literature"). During that period between those two realizations I got into tarot and using plants and crystals for their correspondences (two other interests growing up), as well as using rocks to ground myself. At that time, I considered myself a "liminal Mormon", and was reaching out to Heavenly Mother specifically via tarot. But as it set in that Mormonism specifically, and Christianity generally, wasn't for me, I got more and more interested in modern witchcraft separated from the belief system I was raised in.

It never quite felt right, though. The constant need for protections and doing something "the right way" lest things backfire and you invite the wrong thing into your home, or hurt yourself, or others, or or or, made my anxious & scrupulous brain go into overdrive. I wasn't even sure I believed in it spiritually, or if I was just interested in it from a mindfulness standpoint, and staring down the barrel of comically high piles of research without knowing where to start was exhausting. The concept of dual deities, the Divine Masculine and Divine Feminine, put a bad taste in my mouth (which bled over into Persephone for a while because she and Hades are often used to symbolize those archetypes- sorry Persephone). But, not wanting to listen too much to my discomfort (since part of it may have been, and probably was, prior conditioning), I pushed ahead and actually completed one ritual that had all of the steps - cleansing, representations of the four elements and directions, etc. - and was very carefully designed to leave room for growth and change. It represented the start of my path. I still have the jar I made during the ritual, though I'm still trying to figure out what to do with it.

Around that time, I was considering whether or not to work with deities- specifically Hades, as that was who I felt the most drawn to at the time. The idea interested me, but I wasn't sure if it was from an academic or spiritual angle. I'd really only seen deity work from a modern witchcraft/neo-pagan perspective which, again, didn't sit right with me. On top of that, I wasn't quite ready to let go of Christianity even though I already functionally had, and was terrified of doing something "wrong" and getting, for lack of a better term, sent to (figurative) hell. I decided to do a simple "yes/no" tarot pull and got about the clearest "no" you can get: a reversed Ace of Swords. So I decided to let it rest and that, if I ever felt drawn to it again, I could re-approach the topic.

So, for over a year, I didn't touch it. Continuing with witchcraft after the ritual didn't feel right, either, so my altar collected dust while I tried to sort out my spirituality (or lack thereof). I settled on "I don't know and that's okay" and left it at that, trusting that when the time came, and I had more energy and mental space, that I would be able to start looking into things again.

I never truly stopped thinking about the idea of deity work/worship, though. It was always in the back of my mind. I figured it was because of the way I was raised and tried to sever my idea of spirituality from how I was conditioned while I worked through my religious trauma, got on anxiety medication, and learned more about myself and how I interacted with the world (including that I have both ADHD and autism, something that surprised no one).

Recently I talked with a witchy friend about my thoughts on divinity and what is or isn't out there (neither of us were sure but we both felt like there was something), and that conversation gave me the button I needed to start looking into paganism again. I realized at work a week or two later that I could just look up the different paths of paganism (a term I'd recently heard that hadn't clicked before then) and see if there was one that did fit. The first site I found not only had a clear, concise explanation for belief systems I hadn't knowingly come across before, but it touched on Hellenic polytheism and gave a recommendation for someone to watch to learn more about it. And unlike the sharp knot in my chest that warned me away from attending BYU, and going on a mission, and delving further into modern witchcraft as I'd been introduced to it, learning about Hellenic polytheism felt right. It was heavy and grounding and like home. Many of the issues I'd had with other neo-pagan systems - the constant vigilance & protections & concerns over trickster spirits, for example - simply didn't exist there, or were approached very differently. I still had a mental block about it, though, and realized it was because of that tarot pull a year prior. So I did another one, and got a clear "Yes, jump right in. We're waiting for you". And that's where I've been since which, granted, hasn't been for very long. I've felt especially connected to Apollo and Aphrodite recently, who I believe reached out in a different tarot pull recently - using the same card, actually - which is interesting because while I've appreciated different ways Aphrodite has been depicted, I haven't felt very connected to her in a way I realized was her until recently. It makes sense, though- I got into my first relationship around the same time I did that ritual, and not only are we still together a year later, but a trinket I used to ground myself during those first few months is also pretty directly associated with her. I'm planning on adding it to her altar/shrine area as soon as I find it (it's also still amongst the moving wreckage).

But anyway, hi! If you read this far thank you for taking the time out of your day to do so. If anyone has recommendations for books or other educational resources, or discord servers/other online forum-esque communities, please feel free to share. I've been enjoying looking through the tags and getting a feel for the community here, too; hopefully I'm here to stay.

[incensuous]

antis: ew incest, pro shitters can go die, anyone who ships or even thinks about that stuff is a pedophile

antis: omg this hades and persephone retelling is so Cute!

[moonlightandromache]

okay like i want to preface that i do not have anything against the storylines that they are doing, i’m straight vibing with this season, having fun. i just want to say it’s a little frustrating to me that 911 keeps tacking on these buck and/or eddie centric “surprise” scenes at the end of an episode because then it becomes the big talking point of the episode after the fact and a lot of the other stuff that happened in it falls away to the sides a bit

[queerstudiesnatural]

people my brain has offed in a nightmare to make me grieve for no reason:

- two of my former professors whom i grew up with and who are now some of my closest friends/parent figures

- my brother

- my uncle

- my grandfather

- my grandmother

- my dad

- a few online friends

- a lot of random people that i felt responsible for somehow

the thing about having hyper realistic nightmares every night is i get to have so much trauma that's not even real but is also very real because i lived it (and keep reliving it) in dreams :)

[you-are-constance]

we love completely smashing your finger (until it bleeds) mere minutes before a rehearsal. good thing my lesson was cancelled but i do still have to practice for a couple hours...

[endersdead]

i wish my friends got to grow up with me… :/

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

scam when the mold in its water bottle is affecting him negatively :((

[deepfriedseagullfeet]

the actor having a cocaine addiction since 1922 and literally doing it off of silver platters vs jack making henrik shoot him up with morphine stolen from the hospital every single night. and somehow both these guys are still alive despite this

[alltimewhat]

trick or treat :o!

happy halloween!!!

you get:

coral polyps!