#it was more so to do with my obsession of the occult than anything else

[ryan-is-a-god]

Wow I actually maxed the tags 💀 I've never done that. I would remove some but, now I feel accomplished.

Anyways short answer: Bleeding Roses.

As in like what was the default thing you would draw on the margins when you were in class and had no creative ideas? Personally I was a wings and eyes kid. Usually wings though.

Please reblog to increase the sample size!

[adelarsims]

OC QUESTIONNAIRE: IVO

thank you @simarcana for the tag :)

if any of you wanted to know ivo a little better, here's your chance.

hello, my dear. i believe we never met... i'm the spellweaver here at the Academia, and a substitute librarian for the time being, until they find someone else for the job. so... in which capacity i may be of help?

NAME: that would depend on who you see in front of you right now, me or the... oh. then just Ivo is more than enough, there is no need to stand on ceremony ~

NICKNAME: with such a simple name as mine, no one really called me anything else. if you don’t count common words of endearment, but i don't think that counts.

GENDER: ...hmm. that made me think. i’m used to think of myself as a man, but when i imagine being offered a different opinion, it doesn’t feel alien or make me uncomfortable either... there's always something yet to be discovered about ourselves, isn't it.

STAR SIGN: Pisces, but you might not find it very fitting anymore, now that i... oh, apologies, i got a little distracted for a moment.

HEIGHT: i never bothered measuring my own height exactly. probably about 185 barefoot, a little over 190 on heels... why, does height difference bother you? i assure you, 171-cm-on-heels worth of the Grand Sage in a bad mood can be much more intimidating. ah, you want me to get you this book from the upper shelf? in that case, my dear, how about i teach you a little beckoning spell, if you have some free time on your hands? it will come in handy when i’m not around to help. ~

ORIENTATION: there was a time when i preferred one gender over all others. now i prefer not to prefer either. that is just for the best for everyone. i’m truly sorry if you asked out of... personal interest, my dear.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: i’m afraid even i don't have the answer. i was here for as long as i can recall, but my childhood memories are rather... hazy. it was definitely warmer than here though, that much i remember.

FAVORITE FRUIT: peach, the juicier the better. even imagining it in my hand, its fuzzy skin still warm from the sun, juice streaming down my fingers and palm and staining my sleeve... ah, it almost makes me feel the taste in my mouth.

FAVORITE SEASON: summer. cold and damp weather can be very hard to endure, it takes a huge toll on my mind and body alike.

FAVORITE FLOWER: a whole field of forget-me-nots. and the apple tree blossoming in the warmest month of spring. it’s not something you could pluck for your amusement and put in a vase... you can only appreciate it and step away, carrying this moment of peace in your heart.

FAVORITE SCENT: oh, you know these thick, spicy scents that are an essential part of every tiny store that sells all kinds of fake occult knick-knacks impressionable young humans are so obsessed with? yeah, this scent. it’s just... so nostalgic for some reason.

COFFEE, TEA, or HOT CHOCOLATE: i much prefer pomegranate wine, my dear, but alas, now that i’m not allowed to drink alcohol anymore... it would be linden and melissa herbal tea. aside from its mild taste and soothing qualities, another great thing about it is that it never becomes tart even if you forget about it for a long time... however, i would also never say no to a cup of hot chocolate in a pleasant company ~

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: more than nine, preferably. sadly, i’m rarely given that luxury. everyone always needs something here, and you can't really say no when it's the Grand Sage who's asking, now can you?

DOGS or CATS: neither, my... guest doesn’t like animals. or, rather, they do not like to be in my presence anymore. why are you looking at me like that? i thought professor Ember warned you about... i see. apologies for confusing you then. at any rate, if i have to choose, then cats. a cat sleeps for twenty hours a day and wouldn't give me any trouble, while having a dog demands too much physical activity for my taste.

DREAM TRIP: anywhere warm, my dear. (...where i really want to go is to go back in time and make a different decision, one i won’t be regretting for the rest of my days, but...) oh, i look sad? these cold stones just aren’t good for my morale. winter this year was awfully long.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: indefinite. nothing better for the night than making a warm cozy nest out of thick fluffy blankets. the flip side is that the warmer and cozier your blanket nest is, the more heartbreaking it is to leave it in the morning.

RANDOM FACT: there’s a belief among academia students that if you jump across the hall all the way to the statue of the First Sage on just one leg the day before the exam, and throw the note with your request, and the note stays in the statue’s hands, you will get an A+ without trying. no, no, not lazy, most of them prepare for exams anyway... it’s more of a tradition now. sometimes they write completely unrelated things. poems, love confessions to each other... someone even begged the statue to make professor Ember have a crush on them, poor soul. at least three poor souls a year, to be precise. how do i know all that? well... whose responsibility it is to retrieve all these notes from the statue, you think?

--

tagging @kisica-plays, @pralinesims for OC you didn't answer this for, @agena87, @adoringsentiment, @kri-babe, @puppycheesecake and anyone who sees this and suddenly wants to hop on that train

[deer-hearted]

Apparently, it's Gravity Falls Obsession Era 2.0 these days and I suddenly remembered I had a story to share

Question: What colour are Stanford's eyes are in-canon?

Answer: Gee, dunno, let's ask Alex Hirsch!

In 2016 me and my partner were tangled into the MOST EPIC fight over a fictional character we ever had. For artistic purposes we had to decide what colour are Ford's eyes, and - oh boy, that was tough.

Colours of choice were:

Maroon

Stanley wax figurine, which looked pretty accurate, has that maroon-ish brown-ish hue to its eyes, thus - Stanley has eyes of approximately the same colour, and so does Stanford, cause, y'know, twins

It's the most common eye color on Earth and is often paired with darker hair colours, so it's not unnatural to assume the most common option if it's not mentioned explicitly anywhere

Blue

In the episode where Ford meets Bill in a dream there's a sequence of random pictures with slightly occult characteristics that weren't given a context to later - but if the dream WAS Ford's, they have to do something with him, right? So, whose blue eye was that? Obviously, his

Okay, so Stan and Ford are twins indeed, but they don't neseccarily have to have the same eye colour - Ford already has a unique mutation, which proves their development wasn't identical and they can still have slightly different appearance traits

Yeah, Bill mistook Stan for Ford, so what? He didn't notice sixth finger suddenly went missing, what else could he overlook?

Other colours

Eh, would be interesting (green would suit him so well), but we didn't have anything else to theoritise over

After some time of heated discussions I decided to put an end to it and simply ask. I suppose, it was 11.28.2016 charity stream, because Jason and Kristen were also there, and I was really desperate cause it was 4 to 5 am already and I had to go to colledge early that day. And I indeed succeeded to get an answer, though, not the one I was looking for. It was better.

He said that since the design of the characters includes drawing their eyes as circles with tiny dots ow pupils inside and no retina at all, it doesn't even matter. It's up to OUR own interpretation. We, as fans, may decide that for ourself, and each opinion would be perfectly correct. Because being creative is more important than sticking to the Only Truth.

That morning I woke my partner up and said: "You know what? Though I still disagree, I respect your choice. You want them to be blue? Blue it is". And then there was lots of love.

This story might not have a huge piece of previously unknown lore, but it happen to taught me a very valuable lesson. Hope it would change something for someone else too

[thebazilly]

Gonna shout into the void about my Blades in the Dark game some more. We are gearing up for the last session in this story arc and a bunch of cool shit has happened.

Session before last, the Whisper overindulged his Vice of "obsession with the occult" and went missing. He was also working on a ritual that would let him enter the ghost field, so there's really only one conclusion on where he went.

The other two PC's, a Slide and Leech, decided they wanted to go after their companion and rescue him. No man left behind! You love to see it. Having no magical powers themselves, they ask their ally Lord Scurlock for help.

Hilariously, I had a clock running for Lord Scurlock just so happening to be making a homonculus copy of the Slide, using the blood presented to him as a gift. This opportunity was too good to pass up and I offered the Slide's clone to the Whisper player as a temporary PC for last session. Everyone *loved* this. Turned out so funny and great. The Whisper's player did a fantastic job impersonating the Slide and they played off each other so well.

Scurlock sets two conditions for his assistance. First, bringing the clone with them. Second, find the means to kill a Sea Demon. Scurlock has been working on his project, he is going to free all the sea demons in the harbor as a means to lure Setarra into the open, and he needs to make sure the party can kill her.

The group has a spooky time in the ghost field, stalked by an entity known only as "the psychopomp," meeting ghosts, monsters, and, worst of all, metaphorical representations of the city. Until eventually they find their lost companion, staring out at the crystal clear sea that's normally dark, where a horde of hundreds of demons is visible.

(Then the players rolled a 6 on getting back to the portal, dammit!)

Once they returned, Lord Scurlock dumped his whole backstory, thinking it is too late for the party to stop him. He is the son of the Immortal Emperor, the person that the Emperor broke death itself to save, and he *hates* it. Scurlock has been living a cursed existence tied to Setarra for centuries while the world suffers and withers. He never asked to be brought back. He wants to be free. Anything else is your problem. The demons will destroy Doskvol, but the world is already destroyed.

However, Setarra made a counter-offer. Side with her and imprison Scurlock, and she will make the party rulers of the city. Nevermind that it will be a demon-haunted hellscape where she can harvest souls like fish in a barrel. You wanted power, right? You've done terrible things already for it. What’s looking away one more time?

Of course, there's always a third option... Maybe the players can stop the ritual. The world has been doomed long ago by people vastly more powerful than they. Do they think it's worth saving? Only time will tell. So excited to play again!

[6leggedhorse]

Blood Magick: What is it? Why is it so dangerous?

Trigger warning: mentions of blood and Lancing

So my university had shit box Internet connection during my lecture. I wanted to write sooner, but I had a psych exam that needed to be done before 2:15 PM anyways tonight we are going to have a short discussion about blood magick. You may have heard of magic before and you may have heard of some people attempt to do blood magic only to end up with horrendous and terrifying results. let’s dive into this conversation about and why it’s incredibly dangerous; unless you know what it is you’re doing. Get comfy, grab your favorite snack and drink, and grab your pet to cuddle up with and let’s dive into this topic.

What is blood magick?

Blood magic by definition is any sort of magic based practice, usually rooted in the occult and witchcraft that utilizes blood as either an offering or an ingredient or taglock of your choice. Magic is easily one of the strongest and most potent witchcraft practices that anyone can utilize. Can be utilized in all sorts of spells, hexes, curses, rituals. However, blood magick isn’t for the faint of heart or for any sort of beginner witch in their practice. Blood is usually practiced by advanced and highly knowledgeable witches who have studied the craft for years and have done so safely. When you think about it, blood is liquid essence, somebody’s life force this is one of the strongest ties anyone can use either in a good or bad way. Usually, when one needs blood, they will usually lens themselves safely with sterilized tools, and first aid. These practitioners do not need copious amounts of blood. They only need a couple drops to perhaps maybe a small vile of this liquid life force. Practicing blood magick requires a lot of protection that needs to be involved, as anything from negative spirits or perhaps malevolent entities will notice this and will want to be involved. To use blood magic, whether it’s your own blood or someone else’s is to harness incredible amounts of power and for beginner practitioners this is something that they cannot easily control. Blood magick can be easily out of control and chaotic, in all seriousness this sort of practice isn’t a game and should not be taken lightly this can bring you really good results or backfire tenfold and ruin what it is you’re asking for.

Why is it so dangerous?

Blood magic is incredibly dangerous because this is one of the most powerful practices anyone can harness. With great power comes great responsibility, if you are a big beginner considering on how to do blood magic, I highly strongly recommend you study protection, healing, and whatever path it is, you want to go on Before attempting anything utilizing blood. Blood magic can wheeled really good results, in fact, I recall hearing that some women would use their menstrual blood in the spell working to attempt to get the man that they are interested in romantically to have that man fall in love with them. I do not recall where I heard this, so please take this with a grain of salt do not consider it can be proven otherwise. This form of magic can easily be used in love spells, however, the chances of anything going right for you are slim. The reason is that you Lifeforce whether it’s from you or someone else, and you’re creating energetic ties to this person. This person is going to feel more intensely rather than you not use any sort of blood.

Things might go great at first until they get controlling, obsessive, and perhaps violent. I recall, listening and watching to a TikTok I do not remember who so again please take this as a grain of salt and do not consider it a fact it can be proven otherwise. I recall hearing one talk about how she used blood magic to see her boyfriend when her mom wasn’t home. When this was attempted, she was able to see her boyfriend I think, but it created all sorts of issues for her between her and I think her mom, I recall there was a car that was a car accident. Again, this was years ago, so don’t quote me on it. Because that saying that this sort of energetic practice is intense and powerful so much so in fact, it can change your life either in a positive or negative way. If you are still considering practicing magic, please do so safely, I highly recommend doing copious amounts of research and undergoing first aid classes to understand the seriousness of this sort of practice. Down below, I will be attaching a video from The Norse Witch where she discusses blood magic. They are more knowledgeable in this topic than I am, as I am only knowledgeable in this sort of practice to a limited extent. In the video she teaches you how to harness it, and she does discuss it in greater detail than I can.. remember to, and if this is something you were interested in and want to do, no one can judge you, not even me.

Epilogue

I know tonight was very short and brief. But if the university had better Wi-Fi connection, then maybe just maybe, I would be able to have gotten this done several hours ago when they were still sunlight Alas that is the case, I know it was short, but I still wanted to put something up for you guys even if my knowledge was limited in the topic. I still wanted to share what I knew about a topic. I am open to learning new things so if you have more knowledge about this sort of practice, please comment down below, and I will be sure to add that information into this blog to give it more depth and accurate information. I only know this sort of practice is dangerous for beginner witches. I hope you guys have a good evening, remember to stay hydrated take your medication and follow through self-care. I will see y’all on Wednesday.

[donnerpartyofone]

This morning I went over to the church to see my favorite guy, who is so often surprising and challenging. He seemed a little out of sorts today, stammering and losing his place; I sometimes worry about this old guy, and I was paying attention. Then at the end of the mass he said that they're having air quality problems in the rectory and the EPA is involved. I hope he's not getting brain damage!

It was sort of funny, though, because the homily was about having trouble focusing--not being able to concentrate, and having anxiety about the future. That was pretty relevant to me, medically and otherwise. I'm writing this on the morning of the new moon, just to be extra flaky, about how much trouble I have forming goals.

Pursuing goals is also hard, but step one should be having a vision, and that's the really impossible part. When I was a little kid I had two ambitions: to be a writer, and to be dead. The latter thing represents one of the main motivating forces in my life, which is pain avoidance. I think this is the chief motivator of many people without them even realizing it; comfort-seeking itself can be a form of pain avoidance. Pain avoidance is not a legitimate goal, it's more of a reflex, and it can become a preoccupying distraction from any kind of actual ambition (especially as fulfilling ambitions often involves some amount of discomfort). Focusing on what you do not want is not equivalent to focusing on what you do want.

I never had a very good idea of what I want. I found this out when I went into therapy as an adult; I couldn't formulate any notion of what I wanted out of life. I couldn't even come up with any masturbatory, pie in the sky fantasies. I might vaguely be able to say something like "a bigger, nicer apartment", but I can't come up with any compelling ideas about what that would even look like. I try, but I know I'm faking it. Certainly part of my interest in religion and occultism is the idea that I could train myself to really clearly conceptualize any kind of goals or desires. In the case of occultism specifically (and, let's be honest, many forms of self-help), visualization is always a key element. In recent years I learned that I am abnormally incapable of forming mental images, and I have come to believe that this is intimately connected to my inability to figure out what I want or how to get it.

Nearly all of my thinking is verbal. I found out what aphantasia was while talking to my dad, who is extremely visual with an excellent grasp of spacial relations (something I have almost no concept of). He was shocked when I said I can't really picture anything, asking me "Then how do you do anything?" He said when he decides to make a sandwich, for instance, he automatically sees himself performing the actions of sandwich-making, and sees the aspirational sandwich in his mind's eye. Visualizing is essential to his entire executive process. It so happens that I am aphantasic and I have a lot of executive dysfunction. I no longer think this is coincidental.

(I'm also very faceblind, and I think this is connected; something to do with the ability to reconstitute a visual memory and relate it to something that is presently in front of me. But anyway...)

Perhaps oddly, I am an artist, or at least I have been. But I've never been able to draw from my imagination, like at all. The best work I've ever done is all swipes; I am a great believer in swipes, it can reveal a lot about your personal style and obsessions and when you re-draw someone else's art. But I can't just sit and think up something fun to draw, even when I try to just doodle I'm usually responding more to the lines I see emerging on the paper than anything I'm thinking or feeling. I think this is related to the fact that I'm an obsessive scopophile; I take in a lot of detail from my environment, and I watch movies with the same attitude and frequency with which most people listen to music. Recently I started to joke that I have an image deficiency and that's why I have to consume huge amounts of visual media, I need the external infusion. But like, it's not that much of a joke, maybe.

In my 30s I randomly developed this condition where scar tissue grows over your corneas, and I had to have a series of freaky eye surgeries. My doctors always asked if I grew up somewhere warm and sunny and windy, if I do a lot of outdoor sports (sometimes this condition is called "surfer's eye"); I thought this was pretty funny since I couldn't be more of an indoor kid, although maybe cycling is somewhat at fault. Still, my preferred diagnosis is that I watch so much trashy and violent crap that it literally scars my eyes. It's as good an explanation as any! And it does have this weird synergy with my other visual problems.

Anyway, it's not as if I've done absolutely nothing with my life. Quite a few personal achievements piled up in just the last couple of years; certainly I've benefited a lot from luck and the good will of others, but nothing would have happened without my own creativity and commitment. I just wish I had more, you know. Vision. I spend too much of my life "taking one day at a time" and waiting for things to happen to me, assuming I don't have much control over my experiences. I'd rather be able to imagine something that I want to happen and act on it; regardless of whether the thing is going to happen, I'd like to be able to formulate a goal other than paying the rent, or like, not waking up and going to sleep in a state of stark terror. I'm not sure how to get myself to that place, but maybe saying that that's what I want can count for something.

Anyway here are some photos of the thoughtfully planted shrubbery from the church. I missed the full bloom of the weeping cherries, but as soon as they die off the shrubs below turn bright red, pink, yellow, and white. It's pretty inviting I must say.

[azuramarigold]

A story focused on a young Yuji already harboring Sukuna as a vessel and it's up to teenage sorcerers of Tokyo Jujutsu High School to go and help him! Involves a parental Kento Nanami and Gojo with his usual antics.

Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End

Wasuke Itadori didn’t know how it came to this.

            One day he tried to visit his son, Jin Itadori, and his grandson Yuji to find that the home was completely decimated. Furniture was overturned and ripped, tables were cracked in half, the kitchen sink was running and overflowing with water, and there was the lifeless body of his son in the middle of it all.

            Wasuke knew that Jin’s wife, Kaori, was not right. His senses with Cursed Energy told him so. The woman had an abundance of it, and it felt tainted. Jin unfortunately didn’t have the same ability of Cursed Energy like Wasuke, so he was blinded by the “woman” that was before him.

            Yuji… Where is Yuji…?

            There was faint crying over the sound of the water in the kitchen. The old man rushed up the stairs so he could get to the small nursery that housed his grandson. Upstairs was just as wrecked - the master bedroom overturned, and sheets ripped to shreds. The guest bedroom looked as though a bomb had gone off.

            Yet the nursery was untouched, the walls still a lovely shade of yellow with pictures of trains and animals plastered instead of scarlet splatters of blood. The radio played a soft piano melody to help soothe the child to slumber.

            Yuji was lying in his crib, barely a year old, screaming at the top of his lungs. Wasuke darted for the crib and desperately grabbed for his only family left. He could tell that the boy was in distress, the Cursed Energy was light in the boy, but it fluctuated more like an object than person.

            As soon as Yuji felt his grandfather’s presence, the crying seized, his red, chubby face is distress and his wide, brown eyes filled with tears.

            “I got ya, Yuji…” Wasuke hugged Yuji close to his chest just as sirens were heard from outside, the ambulance and police arriving. Maybe one of the neighbors called?

            Pictures were taken of the scene and Jin’s corpse was wheeled out on a stretcher. Wasuke’s chest painfully ached seeing his son in that state. All that man wanted was to be an amazing father to his own son… and someone, something, took it from him.

            Wasuke was questioned as he arrived at the scene before anyone else. He explained his intentions - he hadn’t heard from his son in a few days, and he was concerned. He wanted to also check on his grandson.

            “Do you know the location of Kaori Itadori?” a man asked, who was tall and broad shouldered. He wore sunglasses and had a goatee, his brown hair spiked up. Wasuke recognized the button that was on the man’s collar, the symbol from the Jujutsu world.

            Shit… haven’t thought of them bastards in years.

            “I do not,” Wasuke replied evenly. “I never liked that woman, she was always… off”

            The man raised a brow. “‘Off’?” he repeated. “How so?”

            Wasuke rather not get into full details on how he suspected she was a Jujutsu Sorcerer herself, despite talking to one in front of him. He didn’t want to reveal his cards that he could see curses and was once a student himself so many years ago.

            “Call it an ‘Old Man’s Intuition’,” Wasuke informed. “I always felt like she was using my son and was obsessive of some kind of occult thing.”

            There… that can tip them off about her while showing I don’t know anything about curses.

            “I see,” the large man replied, writing in a small notepad.

            “Mr. Yaga, we found some residuals!” a young woman called out to him.

            “Excuse me,” Yaga excused himself with a bow.

            They suspect a Cursed Spirit did this… and I do too… I just know that bitch has something to do with it as well.

            The police informed Wasuke that as he was the next of kin to Yuji, he would be the first one available to take the baby in. Wasuke hadn’t raised a baby in over twenty years, and he had his wife still at that time as well. However, his grandson needed him, and he wasn’t going to refuse.

            Yuji was placed back into Wasuke’s arms after someone in the ambulance looked him over, the baby as calm as a clam. His brown eyes were identical to Jin’s from when he was a baby, his cheeks chubby as well. Yuji cooed gently as Wasuke bounced him. The boy was wrapped in a blue blanket with a cartoon image of a tiger embroidered largely in the center.

            The Cursed Energy from him… it shouldn’t be like this in an infant…

            He was allowed to go home after another hour, and he was glad. Energy was drained from him. Not only did he have to plan his son’s funeral service, but he had to get everything for Yuji as well; Wasuke didn’t want any of the items in the home as he knew they were tainted with Cursed Energy, so now he had to buy new baby essentials, formula, and clothes for his grandson.

            The night was long as Yuji cried, going through what little formula Wasuke had in the home from when Jin visited and brought the baby. The kid ate a lot – a lot more than a normal baby, and according to his pediatrician he couldn't find anything wrong, just that he ate more than normal; he wasn't overweight, and he had the right amount of baby fat on his face and body.

            In the morning Yuji was crying as though he was being stabbed, his small eyes wide with terror. Wasuke had in him in a small bassinet next to him in his room, and he noticed that there was a Curse looming over the infant. The Curse looked almost human in shape, large bloodshot eyes, but it had multiple appendages with multiple mouths agape with sharp teeth.

            “Miiiiiinnnnnneeeeeee….” The creature moaned.

            Wasuke may not have exorcised a Curse in over thirty years, but he still had the basics. He knew this Curse that was terrifying his grandson was a lower grade – maybe a Grade 3 at best. He infused a defense knife he kept on his nightstand with Cursed Energy before he lunged across the bed, stabbing the creature at its side.

            “GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” the Curse hissed, its mouths widened in pain and surprise before it crumpled to the ground, fizzling away like carbonation gas.

            Yuji continued to cry, his face streaming with tears. Wasuke thought the kid was going to pop his head off at this point.

            He lifted the baby out of his bassinet and held him close, feeling the Cursed Energy radiate from the boy.

            Did he… attract that Curse…? Did he attract the one at the house too?

            There was no way an infant should have this amount of Cursed Energy… If a person had the ability to become a Jujutsu Sorcerer, the ability to see Curses developed at around the age of five. Genetic Cursed Techniques developed around the same time as well.

            The city always had so many Curses, as Curses were born from humans. Large cities tend to have larger and more dangerous ones due to high levels of stress from the population. Wasuke decided to keep Yuji safe they would relocate to a village area where the Curses would be milder to handle.

            Within a week Jin’s cremation was done and his small funeral service was done at the local cemetery. There were very few people as Jin wasn’t close to many work colleagues, and Wasuke along with Yuji were the only family. Yuji was none the wiser as he was asleep in a stroller, wearing a black onesie, soft snores coming from him.

            Wasuke managed to arrange things at his current job to relocate to a town that was near Kyoto, a town called Ide. It was small and village-like, yet close enough to Kyoto within a couple hours where their Jujutsu Sorcerers could still be contacted in case anything goes wrong.

            Yuji seemed to enjoy the new atmosphere, well, as much as an infant could notice. He babbled and took his first steps without a hitch. It tugged at Wasuke’s heart to see his grandson already growing up so fast and without his father.

            The small-town life seemed to help them adjust very well, the Curses were very sparce, and Yuji barely noticed them. He would comment once or twice, saying something that looked odd, but he quickly thought they were some sort of imaginary friends. Wasuke exorcised them quickly without the boy noticing.

            It seemed each year that Yuji grew older, the Cursed Energy that emitted from him grew too - and it was chaotic. A calamity that grew and begged to be let out.

            When Yuji turned five years old, that was when the screaming started. He would wake up in the middle of the night screaming at the top of his lungs saying, “how much it hurt” and to “please make it stop”.

            Wasuke when the first time it happened, he nearly pulled out his Cursed Energy infused knife against his own grandson as he was sitting in the bed, crying and screaming his eyes out, no longer had the face of the little boy he was raising…

            But he had the cursed marks, black and precise, against his face, his brown eyes now red, his canine teeth sharper than normal…

            The King of Curses, Ryōmen Sukuna.

[invinciblerodent]

I know this is a hardish question bc probably depends on game factors, but as it is rn you the brain sauce

Do you think Emmerich notices right away that Tristan isn’t alive in the same sense as pm everyone else? Or is he like quicker than others to notice? I assume Tristan isn’t quick to explain the full truth of his… condition.

(Sorry if I seem obsessed, bc I kinda am. I blame my adhd for the hyperfixation. Love the whole idea! )

Oh absolutely no worries babe lol, I'm just happy that you find the big fellow interesting! ❤️❤️

Have a song I've been listening to a lot over the past few days and have kinda started associating it with him-

(this, as well as "Ghost" by the same guy, very Tristan-coded to me, only this one also has that soft, deep-voiced crooning in "Orlesian" in the middle there that's. Very A+.)

I honestly feel a bit more "free" headcanoning and rambling on about this guy and this story than about anyone else, specifically because the base idea is kind of on the sillier side? Like, I feel fairly confident ~~hazarding a guess~~ that there's not going to be a subplot in the actual game about the main character needing to hide that actually, they're kind of, sort of a zombie, lol.

So while I'm intentionally keeping my girls vague (beyond "very autistic bisexual elf rights activist", "viking pirate lesbian(?) dwarf", and "tiny dommy mommy"), I'm like, fairly sure that I was gonna need to do extensive rewrites and annotations to the game to make this one work anyway, so I'm not super concerned if I end up needing to "retcon" something I think about now.

What I was thinking so far is that Tristan, as of the beginning, could count on one hand the number of people he's told about his "condition" over the past two decades, and of those people, he's not sure if there's even one still left alive. (Maybe a fellow Warden healer, someone who's patched him up enough times to catch on that something is fishy? Maybe the longest and most serious relationship of his adult life that ended tragically one way or another? I'll have to brainstorm that one)

So as a Grey Warden, Tristan spends a lot of his life traveling alone (which suits him just fine), and quite often, the preternatural survivability and even the unusually thick blood can be reasoned away with "it's a Warden thing, don't worry about it, we're all like this". Most people will believe it, and aren't very quick to jump to conclusions that shouldn't be possible.

Except maybe those who are intimately familiar with death, spirits, and the undead. And are, yknow, actual professors of the occult.

So I think it's not exactly a closely guarded secret, but one Tristan wouldn't reveal unless absolutely necessary- and for as long as possible, none of the companions would know, but Emmrich would absolutely suss him out on his own.

Regardless of whether there's been any light flirting before then, I like to kind of imagine there being a singular moment --perhaps after a hit taken too close, maybe in defense of him, when the odd, stale, almost slightly mildewy scent of Tristan's blood hits Emmrich's nose the first time-- when their eyes meet, and there's this Moment of mutual recognition. This "oh shit, I know what you are."- "oh shit, he knows what I am.".

I of course don't know, like, the particulars of his character, but from his tone in the blurbs and the short stories, I assume that if pulled aside afterwards and asked sincerely, Emmrich would be willing to keep it a secret- and that he would immediately feel intense scholarly interest.

I mean, Tristan is an anomaly: by all means, he should not exist. The undead of Thedas are created via possession, and his body has not been possessed by any spirit, and isn't being controlled by anything. He seems whole, hale, and himself (not a darkspawn, either), he breathes, eats, sleeps, heals and bleeds pretty much as normal, and the things that aren't quite normal, are still not outside of the realm of possibility: many completely normal people breathe and blink slower than average, many people prefer their meat on the rarer side, many people have troubles falling and staying asleep. Nothing about him on its own is indicative of anything strange, and yet he is intelligent undead! Just the fact that he can speak in a way that is convincingly human is incredible!

I want to believe that Emmrich (like many of us are about our blorbos) would immediately kind of be like "I want to study you under a microscope." (paraphrased ofc) (Is he the playful kind? Would he jokingly paint studying Tristan as repayment for his silence? Who knows! It's fun either way!)

And at first, Tristan would be hesitant (it's awkward, to be under such scrutiny, and to have his whole Situation upended and dissected like that, especially by someone he probably already considers somewhat intimidating, in a handsome, charming sort of way), but even if it's not suggested, he'd consider it repayment for keeping it a secret, and agree. And if I can make it work, I'd really enjoy for there to be an opportunity for a moment between the two of them that has Emmrich kind of like... "I have been around enough bodies, both dead and alive, naked and clothed, to not be affected by anything corporeal. I know flesh well, I know what lies under it, and my interest in this particular body is purely clinical, scholarly, and in no way romantic or sexual. This dimly lit office/surgery is not in any way romantic, nor does any sight of his body arouse anything in me. .......... oh, his nipples are pierced. That's not a good thing for me."

("oh, strong muscles shifting enticingly under inked skin." "oh, the big man is large in every way." etc.)

Something something hearing an otherwise abnormally sluggish heart suddenly beat faster at a touch, something something intense examination of all bodily reactions making them both feel both flayed and more naked than it should be possible, intense eye contact, oh in this kind of light his eyes do look reddish and eerie but I can't look away, and from there on I think it can kinda progress however it's going to progress in the game.

I am havign SUCH a normal time of it, man!!!!!!!

[pochapal]

I've been following your Umineko readthrough and been interested in a lot of the ways of reading you're employing - I think you've had a lot of insight relatively early into the story. I'm also very drawn to the fannish taxonomic Mode Of Engagement that is classpecting, and wanted to question a little of your classpecting of George - one of the things about him that jumped out from very early on was the ways in which his superficial presentation as a Nice Guy belies the strongest inheritance of Ushiromiya Family Values among the cousins - he looks up to Hideyoshi and Kinzo as businessmen, he defends Rosa's parental rights over Maria, he has dynastic aspirations of his own through homemaking and going out to make his fortune. Given the western fascistic overtones of Kinzo's occult fascination, obsession with the image of western beauty in Beatrice, and the prioritisation of a regimented, patriarchal power structure maintained through violence and fear, this has implications for George's character - and the aspect most closely associated with the charismatic cult of personality in business and empire through homestuck strikes me as Life, not Space - see the condesce, see Jane-as-white-suburbanite in homestuck and of course see anything to do with Jane in postcanon.

that's interesting! i do think there are a lot of george/jane overlaps and i did entertain life!george for a while since a lot of his character shtick is Emulation Of Kinzo's Ideals (kinzo himself is definitely Life by every measurable metric) but the thing that gave me pause is that this version of george clearly isn't real and is a version of himself he struggles to maintain convincingly enough to give himself any real benefits. George The Adult, to use the frameworks from my writeups, is almost certainly a Life player but George The Adult is a paper-thin mask that has no connection to his inner self.

behind the mask we have George The Kid who is much more concerned with establishing his own selfhood/"empire" rather than merely inheriting the ushiromiya system. his primary interest when not playing the cringe heir part is in wooing shannon and a strange jealousy towards the idea that battler is more successful at establishing and forming relationships with he is. i think this bitterness and loneliness extends beyond the Life framework and has more in common with jade harley's Space-esque desperate isolation. in homestuck postcanon we see jade throw herself into forming unhealthy doomed relationships and families with both the davekat and yiffy situations. both george and jade want something that is truly and unconditionally their own more than anything else, even if this desire is expressed in radically different ways. that said, i can very easily see george ending up with a yiffy of his own if shannon had survived lol (failchild with a poor imitation of the ushiromiya ideal supplanted on them abandoned by george when it becomes apparent a lot of his relationship with shannon is an illusory farce).

so much of homestuck's classpect stuff is rooted in the conflict of people emulating the aspects of those they look up to even when they shouldn't (rose's void-esque affinity motivated in part by her relationship with roxy, dirk acting knight-like to emulate his bro, the Rage influence over all the trolls and their aspirations) and i think you can apply that framework to george. the Life stuff is there and is shaping him but less in the sense that this is speaking to Who He Is than it actually is speaking to Who He Thinks He Should Be. my current reading of george is Space (also works as a fun contrast to my read of battler as a Time player) but even if that's not true i do think he's something else wrapped up in a Life player's clothing.

[hydrolunamens]

Aim for My Mouth

The implicit shenanigans of S2E4 of Good Omens

The first viewing of The Hitchhiker (Nazi Zombie Flesheaters) confused me. I didn’t understand why the events of 1941 were unfolding the way they were - surely Crowley could find more whiskey to peddle? surely Mrs. H wouldn’t accept an understudy magician as a replacement for bootleg booze?? surely Aziraphale could have helped Crowley in some useful way rather than this silly stage performance??? (Also, zombies, really?)

But after viewing it several more times (yes I know I’m obsessed) this has become my favorite episode. It has a whole lot of what my nasty little heart desires from the Aziraphale/Crowley relationship, by which I mean a whole lot of implicit sexiness. I love the juxtaposition of this adorable story about our favorite ethereal/occult partners against the ridiculous zombie element - the zombies balance the tone so this does not feel exactly like a Richard Curtis film. Because if not for the exploits of hell and the undead, this episode would be more obviously the point in the romantic comedy where the main characters show the audience how good their chemistry is, making you itch to see them get together in the end.

The first thing to realize is that after Crowley rescues Aziraphale from the Nazis in the church, everything else that happens has been expressly planned out by Crowley in order to take Aziraphale on an amazing date, bespoke entirely to the angel’s whims and desires. One imagines Aziraphale has expressed disappointment at not being enough of a conjurer to visit the professional magic shop, so Crowley plots out this whole scenario to give the Angel the chance to actually perform, presenting the opportunity through a thin layer of “coincidence.” Sucks to be the magician who gets arrested for desertion, but the humans were probably going to do that sooner or later anyway, right? Why not simply fix it so it happens on the night Crowley knows he will meet up with Aziraphale? Chalk another one up for hell with that move too… which is another thing Crowley has to layer over this evening.

So at the theater the Angel is offered another temptation he simply can’t resist (and it’s not selfish at all! he’s helping his friend, not indulging in a fantasy, dontcha know) and now our beings are really dancing. This is where the sexiness ramps up… if you don’t count that moment in the car where Aziraphale asks Crowley if there’s anything he can do to return his favor, a line which is delivered like the flimsy setup of a scene in an adult film after the repairman fixes the housewife’s washing machine.

They go back to the shop, where they get to engage in a bit of roleplay and Crowley especially gets to live out a voyeur scenario while he watches Aziraphale perform. This voyeurism is humorously echoed by the zombies watching them too… again, if it weren’t for these zombies, we might go into insulin shock from how sweetly sexy this plot is. While Aziraphale shows off to Crowley, we learn another motive for why Crowley chose this particular activity for their big date night - he’s going to make Aziraphale forget all about this loser Professor Hoffman. Who got you on the west end stage, Angel? That’s right, your demon husband, not the mortal you were spending too much time with a decade ago.

Crowley starts letting his guard down in the shop scene, though he still has to put on a performance of his own as a “lonely American G.I.” to stay comfortable while he praises Aziraphale’s tricks. At least he can take off his glasses. He is really lavishing Aziraphale with words of affirmation (if Crowley’s love language is acts of service, Aziraphale’s is words of affirmation), and then he finally gets to suggest the big treat - visiting the exclusive magic shop, which he absolutely knows is just over the road as he sniffs and glances out the window. Like he’s asking his partner if he’s sure there’s nothing more in a box of chocolates in which he’s hidden a ring - which now as I’m writing it out, there’s definitely a point being made about a ring being used against them in this story.

Anyway, we get to the magic shop, and Aziraphale is absolutely giddy, to the point where he’s making sexy sounds over sets of rings (more rings!) and Crowley is basking in it. Throughout the whole scene, a snake statuette is sitting on the display case… forgive my absolutely filthy mind, but is this rising snake statue not a perfect symbol of the attraction Crowley is feeling right now?

Then Aziraphale finds the gun trick. Not only is shooting a gun a metaphor for dangerous sex, but we get a glimpse into Aziraphale’s hedonistic desires to try everything this world has to offer and Crowley’s lack of experience with explicit violence. This mutual surprise lights up their chemistry even brighter - Aziraphale couldn’t let himself be attracted to Crowley if Crowley actually hurt people (though he’s hanging onto that idea until Crowley finally tells him he’s never shot a gun) and Crowley wouldn’t be so interested in Aziraphale if he wasn’t just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. (This also really screams to me that Aziraphale has probably had sex but Crowley has not, another dynamic I especially adore, but anyway)

Crowley did not expect the involvement of firearms in this grand gesture date, but he cannot resist Aziraphale’s enthusiasm, and agrees to do it as long as they stay safe. Which of course, they won’t. Though Crowley had taken some care to make sure this looks above board to both heaven and hell, this entire night is a wildly risky display of the partnership between him and Aziraphale.

When they actually get to the stage, the dramatic tension builds and builds - you can hear it especially in the music. Is it because they’re about to get caught? Yes, but damn if it doesn’t also feel a bit like the tension that builds before… release. I feel like there are a few lines that highlight the idea that this stage performance is a sex analogue. “Aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear” is both an innocent instruction and utterly debauched, and Crowley asking “I squeeze this bit here, do I not?” has the same double entendre feeling. Mrs. H shouting “Get on with it already!” feels like the Greek chorus of Good Omens fandom crying-screaming-throwing up over our desire to see these two smash. They are also the most human we’ve ever seen them in this scene, because their miracles have been blocked - and you know what humans get up to, right?

So Crowley aims, shows a lot of hesitation, they mouth things to each other, Aziraphale encourages him, and boom! Crowley shoots perfectly somehow (just good luck or proof of the special mojo he and Aziraphale have when they work together? Unclear) and everyone is elated, especially Crowley and Aziraphale. They did it! No paperwork! They can shoot at each other til kingdom come! Send out the sexy girls so these soldiers don’t notice they just watched two man-shaped beings smash!

Alas, we only get the briefest of afterglows as they’re hanging out (snuggling) backstage. Hell tramples in and spoils their moment, reminds them there are severe consequences to sexy little stage performances together, and Crowley is nearly ripped apart from Aziraphale forever - something Aziraphale is constantly anxious about anyway. Hell doesn’t send rude notes, you know. He’s always afraid of what hell will do to Crowley. Aziraphale perfectly performs the sleight of hand that saves them somehow (again, is it luck? Or is it their special powerful love magic?) and they get to retreat back to the safety of the bookshop.

Crowley has a bit of a jealous boyfriend moment where he tells Aziraphale to cut the magic act he learned from Prof Hoff (it still feels a little overly mean to me, but jealous boyfriends do be saying shit like that) and they talk to each other more intimately and directly than we usually see them talk. Of course, because it’s pillow talk. These two just had sex and got away with it. Let Aziraphale do his apology dance in the morning. They’ll always have this night.

[tribow]

I beat Urban Legend in Limbo! I don't know why I skipped this by accident. Maybe I was just too gung-ho about trying out Legacy of Lunatic Kingdom.

I have somehow avoided learning about how the plot plays out. All I knew before hand is that Sumireko shows up in Gensokyo with the Occult Balls and causes problems and well...that's not necessarily how the story goes.

Feels good to have context for a lot of stuff now. ESPECIALLY fanon stuff. I legit had no idea why Sumireko and Mokou were paired up so much and it's just cause they bonded a bit during the whole fiasco.

I also never knew just how many characters end up in the outside world during the incident. A LOT of characters do. It's kinda crazy how much happened. This incident was easily one of the most dangerous ones to happen to Gensokyo. Thanks Lunar Capital! (You'd think Yukari would be all over this incident. Was she sleep? lmao)

I didn't talk much about my thoughts on Legacy of Lunatic Kingdom after beating that too so I'll talk about it a bit here. Unlike ULiL, I actually knew basically everything that happened in LoLK. I was mostly just unaware of most of the spellcard patterns. I never want to fight Clownpiece ever again lmao.

I do wonder though, is the idea that Junko's spellcards break the rules misinfo? Forgot where I heard this, but apparently Junko's spellcards were built to actually kill instead of being non-fatal.

She does say some pretty intimidating stuff, but Junko is far from the only character to threaten killing their opponent. Mokou does it a bunch, pretty sure several bosses do it, heck Reimu does it too right? At the end of the day though, danmaku is for play. Junko seemed more than happy to play along with the playable cast. Yeah, her danmaku isn't very "pretty" and often aims at you directly, but if she was actually trying to kill you'd think the game would reflect that a bit better. Her anger has nothing to do with the player anyway. She's very casual with everyone she interacts with even if she's a little crazy and intimidating about it.

I'm kinda rambling lol. More importantly, fanon Junko has super different vibes to canon Junko. They're both intimidating sure, but canon Junko is just really melodramatic about everything she does. Fanon Junko is more obsessive than anything else.

Well those thoughts aside, I'll be doing Antinomy of Common Flowers next. I know there's still a community playing this game fairly regularly. I wonder how solid its mechanics are for the end of this trilogy. I know I love Hisoutensoku so I'm excited for this one.

[computercreature]

ehmmmmm. papyrus undertale for character ask game?

you didn’t specify a question. so i’m answering all 30 of them >:D nyeheheheh!!

first impression: super silly skeleton! love him!

when i started to like him: it’s hard to remember but probably from the very beginning. specifically? umm probably the lamp scene haha he’s so <3

song that reminds me of him: this is such a copout answer i know but i always think of papyrus makes a mixtape. such a formative song to my childhood

how many people i ship him with: 0! i hc him as aro!

my fav ship: again probably none… i’m not a huge fan but i feel like the most ok in my book is papyton

least fav ship: literally anything else all of his friends are either children or his brother or a lesbian

a quote i remember: if you see a shop, you should stop… drop, and roll… into some great deals!! because we’re having a fire sale!! at my imaginary store, which sells flames.

fav outfit: AHHH i love the battle body for the comfort fit swag but. my heart belongs to the cool dude fit <3

least fav outfit: NEITHER they both fit him so well!!!

describe him in one sentence: he’s funny and silly BUT i swear he’s so much more mysterious than people realize!

first thing i think of when i think of him: the papyrus knight theory, and how excited i am for him to be in deltarune >:3

sexuality hc: mm i think gay aro

fav friendship: FLOWEY!!!!! they are besties ok i’m so glad more people are realizing this

best storyline: ahhh hmm. again i think his friendship with flowey! they’re characters that are perfect for each other and their dynamic has a lot of crazy implications. without the post-canon content and some of the harder to find dialog it’s easy to assume flowey’s messing with him but they really are friends!

worst storyline: i’ll be honest the date 💔 i do like it from the perspective of an aro guy forcing attraction but i still prefer the hangout way more for. obvious reasons

childhood hc: i think he’ll be a child/teen deltarune! and i think he was a lonely (bonely) kid, which is why he wants to be popular so much

what i think his first word was: sans :]

what i think he was like as a child: i already kinda answered this but also. i’m an otherworld sans truther and i really have no idea what ut papyrus’s deal is. if the skeletons just showed up one day i really don’t know what that means for papyrus

most random ship i’ve seen: well other than the obvious. i would say papyton is pretty random since they’ve never met? but he does canonically have a celebrity crush on mettaton so i guess i get it haha

weird hc: cat person (or at least says he is) because of the annoying dog lol

when he was at his happiest: obviously post pacifist when he can feel the sun on his skin and wind in his hair 🩵

when he was at his lowest: tbh before meeting frisk he was really lonely. in deltarune it’s probably worse since he doesn’t have undyne or. any other friends

future hc: i love the hc that he designs escape rooms on the surface!!!!! i think he (and a lot of other monsters) start taking anthropology classes

a secret he’s never told anyone: he actually loves the annoying dog 🩵

when he acted most ooc: ohh i don’t know. hrm. i don’t think there is one off the top of my head!

when he was himself the most: before and after saving him in the asriel fight! copout answer for all the characters but i stand by it!

most fun character for him to meet: ohhh i have to think about this. maybe tome of mob psycho fame. monster obsessed with humans + human obsessed with the occult would be the perfect autism duo

most unnecessary thing he did: when he turned the puzzle into his face and couldn’t figure out the solution. when he summoned a billion bones for his attack and let you fly right over them. when he kept asking about your outfit and kept giving the wrong answers to undyne. when he jumped out undyne’s window. he’s so <3

how would he be as a parent: carlyraejepsans has a great post about this but i think he’d be the fun uncle who loves kids!! also all the monsters are communally raising frisk anyway <3

funniest scene: OH THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE TO CHOOSE. umm i love the lamp scene, when he first sees frisk, the mettaton tile maze, umm a lot of his phonecalls especially the fire one, and the winter newsletter. he’s just so!

[literary-illuminati]

Books I Read In June

24. The Chosen and the Beautiful, by Nghi Vo

Really, I should have read this one last year when it was getting all the buzz – it actually really mostly lived up to it!

But then, I’m the weirdo who actually enjoyed The Great Gatsby in the first place. If you didn’t at least kind of enjoy all the references and narrative fuckery with the source text. It’s, well, it’s not quite fanfic imo (at least, no more than Ten Things I Hate About You is. Which I mean if you want to argue the point you’d probably win, but), and if you come into it blind you’re going to miss like a third of what’s going on.

The whole urban fantasy aesthetic doesn’t really add much beyond, like, aesthetics and vibes and making the incredibly obvious metaphor wholly and completely literal re: Gatsby’s selling his soul. But, like, the book has so much fun with all the magical ‘20s decadence and literally occulted speakeasies and gay bars and similar.

25. Capital Without Borders, by Brooke Harrington

On a fundamental level the basic conceit of ‘anthropologist spends years learning the customs and folkways of a privacy obsessed community who feel reviled by the wider world – the private wealth managers of the ultrawealthy’ is just, like, incredibly funny to me.

But despite being incredibly dry and very, like, academic, this was actually shockingly readable. Actually pretty interesting, too.

I mean, in a ‘filled with despair and loathing’ sort of way, but still. Interesting sort of dialectic where the officials who actually serve the various world powers’ state apparatuses absolutely loathe the whole deal with tax havens and matryoshka dolls of trusts and charitable foundations and everything else, but despite ostensibly having basically unlimited coercive force at their fingertips they’re more or less helpless to do anything about it. Always fascinating to get a look at the people who the world works on behalf of.

And I admit I sort of have an aesthetic fascination with the sort of elite professional who ends up being a de facto social worker and relationship councilor for the much MORE elite family they work for.

26. Plague Birds, by Jason Sanford

I…thought this was a Hugo nominee? But apparently not? So, okay, zero idea how I ended up reading it.

Possibly my new top contender for ‘non-visual media which are still, spiritually, anime”. You know, post-post-apocalyptic setting of scattered villages watched over by benign village Ais and clans of dangerous hunters in the wilderness and wandering superpowered paladins who wear red leather and have bright red hair who are bonded to a super-powerful AI in their blood, and also the only character who isn’t at least kind of a furry is the apparently 16-year-old girl whose actually a myriad old alien spy.

Anyway! Decent romp, but honestly kind of fell apart in the third act, imo. Spent too long luxuriating in the (honestly very fun) worldbuilding, so all the actual plot and revelations had to be crammed together without having nay space to breath or feel natural.

Also the protagonist turns out to be, like, the most special child to ever exist Chosen-One-but-sci-fi, which I just generally despise.

Kinda a bit less than the sum of its parts, imo.

27. Across the Green Grass Fields, by Seanan Mcguire

Hugo novella nominee number 3!

This was fun! Not really much more than fun, but still – pleasantly tropey read, in a self-consciously fairytale-like sort of way.

I’m informed that it’s part of some wider setting/universe, but honestly you really couldn’t tell reading it.

Kind of amused at the apparent coincidence that this came out at (IIRC) basically the same time as a children’s tv show called Centaurworld, which I know absolutely nothing about except a friend stole the surprisingly terrifying villain to use in D&D.

Anyway, like, 3/5? The last thing I read by the author was Middlegame, and this is just honestly a pretty big let down by comparison. Doesn’t help that the general vibe kept me mentally comparing it with The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland In A Ship Of Her Own Making, either (not a flattering comparison for it).

28. A Master of Djinn, by P. Djèlí Clark

Hugo novel nominee number 4!

As a fan of pulpy weird alternate 20th centuries, this really was catnip to me. Buddy cop antics in a Djinn-haunted steampunk Cairo at the turn of the 20th century! A heroine who insists on wearing perfectly tailored English suits at all times despite living in early 20th century Cairo! A climax involving a giant robot and an evil wizard trying to restore the British Empire!

The vibes were sublime.

Beyond the amazing aesthetics there isn’t much to write home about, honestly – the setting is largely set dressing over a fairly conventional plot. Fun set dressing! The bit where the Brits and Americans are basically losing at imperialism because they went hard on the whole witch hunting things while everyone else went digging for local spirits to try allying with doesn’t necessarily make much sense, but is very funny to me.

29. Project Hail Mary, by Andy Weir

And Hugo Novel Nominee Number 5!

So I think I mentioned but – I did not know this was by the The Martian guy until I started reading it, but oh my fuck can you tell.

The tone is very..specific. I found it pretty grating, honestly, but not nearly enough to outweigh all the things the book has going for it.

So, it’s hard sci fi. Like, ‘extended asides to explain the scientific processes and technological breakthroughs as they happen for the education of the reader, most of the acknowledgements section is thanking different scientists for their help making it accurate’ hard sci fi. Honestly it’s to the books credit that the writing is just kind of twee and self satisfied, and not soul-witheringly dry.

The decision to have the protagonist wake up with amnesia and then slowly fill out the backstory as he makes do on the spaceship orbiting Tau Ceti he woke up from a medically induced coma in next to two dead crew mates was frankly an incredibly good decision, because the earth chapters are a) clearly just an excuse/justification to get him to Tau Ceti and b) just incredibly boring.

But, like, I really cannot overemphasize how much I just adore first contact scenarios where both parties are awkwardly trying to understand each other and work out some sort of mutually intelligible way to get information across and solve some desperate problem together. The aliens were so lovingly amazingly weird, too – both the astrophage and whatever Rocky’s species are called.

I literally read it travelling halfway across the continent, so can confirm that it’s a great airport read.

If Hollywood isn’t a bunch of cowards they’ll spend $100 million to make this one a movie too.

30. The Past Is Red, by Catherynne Valente

Hugo novella nominee number 4! Getting close!

Valente’s pretty easily one of my favorite writers currently working, and this did absolutely nothing to change my mind about that. I mean, a bit heavy handed – the setting is quite literally the city-sized island of trash floating above the waves after the seas have risen and drowned the entire world – but still, it’s the sort of ever so slightly surreal magical realism I’m really very fond of.

The prose was just relentlessly sharp and occasionally mean spirited and really consistently great, imo. For whatever reason ‘hope that’s just greed, going by it’s maiden name’ has gotten thoroughly stuck in my head.

Tetley as a protagonist is just generally amazing and wonderfully tragic and interestingly broken, really.

Anyway, haven’t read Elder Race of A Spindle Splintered yet but really solidly my favorite of the hugo novellas I’ve read so far.  

[astrologyinterests]

Astro Observations:

5th house Pluto.

hey y’all. ✨ this is my first ever post and i really wanted to talk about my observations on pluto in the 5th house! as someone with a 5th house pluto, this post will be mostly me speaking from personal experience.

🥀 those with a 5th house pluto take their hobbies/creative expressions SERIOUSLY. you probably throw your SOUL into your art. for me personally, i don’t take my art or the things i’m interested in, lightly. i become so immersed in it.. almost obsessive.

🥀 you may be controlling over your children. i don’t have any kids, but i can be a bit controlling when it comes to anything or anyone i consider to be “mine”. (i know we don’t own ppl, but y’know what i mean. lol)

🥀 you need for your relationships to be deep, intense and passionate. you aren’t with the superficiality.

🥀 casual romantic relationships may not be your cup of tea. i know for me, i focus all of my attention on one person. i can’t date multiple people at once. whoever i give my attention, will get it 100%. and i absolutely expect the same in return. lol it’s rare i do the casual thing. i always end up catching ✨feelings✨.

🥀 same can be said for sexual relationships. when it comes to sex, i have to have deep feelings for someone before i even consider doing it with them.

🥀 reel in the jealousy and possessiveness. it’s called casual dating for a reason. you tend to get jealous whenever you see your object of interest interacting with others. as one very famous, maniacal, homicidal clown once said.. why so serious?

🥀 you can be secretive with your creations/hobbies. i would always hide my drawings or be reluctant to show my art to people who would ask to see it. i remember before making an instagram dedicated to showcasing my art, i went back and forth about making one for the longest. it just makes me feel vulnerable to share my inner-self, with others.

🥀 adding onto my previous statement, if your art (or whatever you take interest in) is not received in the way you would like it to be received, it can be a blow to your ego. (5th house is ruled by leo, and leo likes attention. not to be “stereotype-y”). while i hate to admit it, if my art is not well received or at least not receive to my liking, i can go to a bit of a dark place and feel like my art isn’t good enough. (i know that i don’t need others validation, i’m working on it, guys.)

🥀 you can become obsessed with your interests. and since it’s pluto here, those interest can include witchcraft, the occult and other “taboo” interests. for me, i always find myself researching things regarding astrology, tarot and spirituality. as well as staying up and watching conspiracy theory videos all night. 😅

🥀 you may be intimidating to children. or they may absolutely love you. i’ve gotten mixed results from this placement. me personally, i’ve found that children flock to me. it could be my leo sun, though. 🤷🏿‍♀️

🥀 it’s hard to enjoy leisurely activities. you may always feel that there has to be a “deeper meaning” or greater purpose for you to enjoy things. because you take everything seriously, you can find most things that are meant for nothing more than enjoyment, meaningless. like girl.. just go to the carnival. everything doesn’t need to end with a spiritual awakening. (i’m talking to myself lmao.)

🥀 strong creative impulses. i don’t know if anyone else relates, but i sometimes feel as though, a strong creative force comes over me and almost speaks to me, in a way. i usually end up jumping up and rushing to grab a pencil and paper to get everything down.

🥀 pluto can represent secrecy and things that are taboo. so your (romantic & sexual) relationships can have a secretive and/or taboo element to them. y’all like that kinky shit, huh? 👀

🥀 there can be a bit of a “tortured artist” mentality.

🥀 you can be so immersed in your art and take it so seriously, that you lose sight of the joy it’s suppose to bring you. (trust me.. i know this from experience. 😔)

🥀 your hobbies, children or even sexual relationships could bring you great transformation.

[ilcaeryx]

Cultist [Sukuna/Reader] - NSFW

Summary: You have one god on this earth.

Tags: Sukuna/Reader, NSFW, Smut, Humor, Size kink, Cock Warming, Body Worship,

Words: Cirka 2k

Author’s Note: What’s up, sluts? I’m back. This is NSFW, so beware.

---

Sukuna did regularly mention that domination and conquest were his pastime hobbies and you would tentatively add that he adhered to them with slave-like zealotry. Whenever he insulted Itadori Yuji by calling him simple-minded, your heart ached with the desire to tell him that he was not any greater regarding his obsessions with strength. However, your self-preservation kept you alive, since a bitch that talks back to Sukuna is a bitch that gets their head separated from their body, after all.

Having sex with Sukuna is somehow leagues safer than speaking to him, you thought, gaze surveying how the apex of his back muscles cast shades upon the trenches of his spine. Inhalation, the shadows grew and deepened. Exhalation, the light re-conquered its territory. You suspected he never slept, even though he physically seemed in deep slumber. His arms were splayed on his pillow, face turned away from you.

You had self-preservation to save your ass 99 percent of the time – this time was probably that one percent where he would snap.

“Sukuna,” you called out, very lightly stroking his biceps with your nails. No answer, but his arm muscles flexed subtly as he moved his arm.  “I want my side of the bed back. I can’t sleep on this side.”

You let out a shriek when his hand shot out at you, palm plastered over your lips. The sharp edge of his index nail hovered uncomfortably close to your eye, the thumb nail piercing your cheek. Out of reflex, your dug your fingertips into his upper arm and attempted to pull away from his show of force.

Sukuna turned his head to face you. His eyes glared with disinterest, though his grasp weakened slightly.

“You’ve been plenty loud during the night; why must you continue now?” he asked, squeezing your cheeks together to allow you to speak.

“I’ve slept like three hours max,” you said, ignoring his question.

“That is not my problem.” He let go of your face to return to his original position. “Go find somewhere else to sleep and I shall wake you whenever I have need of you.”

What an absolute dickhead. This was your bed, not his domination playground.

You released him and patted your face with your fingers carefully. There were no stinging scratches left behind, which was good considering his reasoning that if ‘you weren’t bleeding out, you didn’t need help’ would leave you with annoying scabs everywhere. Why you were even fucking this guy was beyond you, honestly. This was one of the top 3 worst life choices you had ever made.

You slid towards him beneath the covers and supported your upper body with your ribcage on his lower back and elbows on his upper back. His body heat intermingling with yours gave you a dull ache, from behind your breastbone flowing into a tidepool in the pit of your stomach. After pushing your hair to one side of your neck, you lowered yourself onto him. Your lips wet and breath hot across his skin, you blew softly before planting a kiss below his shoulder blade. Had it been another person under you, you would have had the gratification of seeing goosebumps forming across the area.

“Sukuna…” you said, barely audible between his skin and your lips.

The King of Curses arose from his relaxed position. “Did you not listen or are you an idiot?”

“Bit of both, to be perfectly honest.” You pinched a tuft of his hair strands between two fingers, pulling gently. “You don’t need to do anything – I just want your attention.”

He issued you a warning glare, daring you to pull some weird shit on him.

You shrugged one of your shoulders and gave him a lopsided smile. “It’s not like I can hurt you, right? I don’t have sharp claws.” To testify, you released his hair, buried your nails below his neck and dragged them down his back in one stroke. Four faint lines were left behind, a stylistic contrast to his dark markings. “I don’t have superhuman strength or speed.” You felt the muscular ridges above his ribs, your fingers travelling up and down each rib. “At my worst, I’m just very obnoxious.”

“How self-aware,” he mocked and laughed half-heartedly. He seemed to enjoy your tiny monologue, judging by the slight raise of his eyebrows. “Continue.”

His approval increased your confidence. While you scoured your brain for whatever concept that might amuse or interest him, you broke eye contact and directed your thumb to pad the black line running along his back. You followed it up to the crest of his shoulders and pulled yourself up over his torso. A low growl hummed beneath you, indicating that perhaps you were pushing your luck. When you brought your left hand down his chest the sound reverberated through your being, reminding you that you were not the apex predator in here. His eagerness showed as he willingly moved his hand into your range when you struggled to reach it.

“Look,” you said, just as eager to sate his curiosity, “at the difference.”

With his attention on your hand enveloping his, you settled your head on his shoulder, finally eye to eye with the King of Curses. You shifted so that your palms met. Even when ignoring his nails, his long fingers and thick wrist eclipsed yours. Finger pads with rough callouses created in combat, the evidence of a reign of lasting a millennium. You could feel the wisdom beneath your soft pads; you could’ve devoted your entire life to warfare and your hands would still not understand it the way his do.

“You know, I never used to consider myself a small person,” you lied, your voice perfectly stable, “but now I am not so sure anymore. It is quite overwhelming.”

Sukuna’s head tilted towards yours, almost tenderly grazing his cheek against your jawline. The movement gave you shivers, causing your toes to curl. You had no option but trusting his self-control when he dove below your jaw and put his lips to your neck. He sucked the flesh between his lips, occasionally tasting with his tongue.

You sighed, content for the brief attention you had earned. Sukuna’s heartbeat rate did not increase nor decrease beneath your hand, his chest just as firm. He detached from your neck, his saliva cooling down that particular spot. You were on the brink of complaining when the world swirled around and your back hit the mattress, your chest and stomach feeling the room’s chill without Sukuna’s body heat.

Sukuna was not playing around anymore; he aligned his forearms beside your face and blocked off whatever else existed outside with his mere presence, lips taut and eyes alert. He situated his torso on top of yours and separated your thighs with his knee. Not close enough to grind on.

“Tell me more,” he stared you down. “What does being completely outmatched feel like?”

You wondered if he meant how it physically felt or how the emotional part of being outmanned and outgunned felt like. Considering how his empathic ability was low-functioning to non-existing, you wanted to bet your money on a physical description… Yet, your tongue prepared to tell him about the terror and the uncertainty. It was not wise to divulge such details to Sukuna.

Scheherazade’s silver tongue might have saved her life a thousand and one times but not everyone’s talent was located in their mouth cavity. Like always, your hands bought you more time to think, to evaluate your words. You tentatively reached for his collarbones before changing your mind and guiding one hand to his lips. Perhaps he had meant to kiss your fingertips, perhaps he had yet another inquiry but his lower lip separated from his upper one and you cautiously pulled it downwards. A predator’s teeth greeted you.

“I can’t say it without sounding lame,” you said and crossed your arms across your chest. “Don’t laugh.”

Almost immediately, Sukuna leaned his weight on one forearm, allowing him to use the other to restrain your hand against the mattress. “I assure you,” he said, his eyes staring lazily at you, lids half-down, “you are not that funny.”

Suddenly, you wished Itadori Yuji would regain his consciousness to not have to deal with this asshole. Kind, encouraging Yuji would worship your existence. Perhaps you would eventually have learned to worship him in turn. ‘Learning’ being the key word, of course. You would fumble in the dark while attempting to appreciate him. This seemed like a good idea for about three seconds and then you returned to your occult god.

“I want to be inside you.” Sukuna, no longer interested in your thoughts, showed more interest in your body. He seldomly spoke of his wants, rousing your curiosity and – honestly – your arousal. The thigh between your leg shifted closer to your mound, touching your nether lips softly.

“You’re so demanding,” you complained, ending your sentence with a deep sigh. “You want me to be quiet, you want me to talk, you want to be inside me – will you ever be satisfied?”

You rolled your hips upwards in a slow movement, enjoying yourself as your lips parted against his flesh. It did not please you enough, so you continued to alleviate yourself.

“No.” His voice  was unusually quiet. His lower lip brushed yours as he spoke. “Do you think you deserve it?”

You moved your chin downwards, the movement nearly imperceptible for someone who was not expecting it.

“I agree… if it’ll keep you quiet,” he said, releasing your arm to steady himself above you.

And you did keep quiet. Although he remained stone-faced, Sukuna seemed attentive to the way you opened your mouth and frowned in frustration, his crimson gaze traversing across your face.

He angled his hips downwards, pressuring your clit as you ground against him. You had never been more thankful for the things he did than when he let you use his body as a tool to get off. Each upwards motion elected a pang of pleasure, a beach in ebb and flow.

You don’t know for how long he tolerated your grinding but your lower body ached and his thigh was slick with your fluid when he removed his leg from you, its absence pulsating throughout your stomach. Despite your fear that he would push you away, you grabbed onto his neck to heave yourself against him, anything to regain that comfort. The relief that accompanied the heartbeat after he brought you up with him to sit upright lightened your entire being. His hands felt excruciatingly hot, almost unbearably so, on your ribcage.

Although you felt ready for him, your grip on his neck remained hard as he lifted you up above his cock. Sukuna descended you slightly, his tip bulging at your entrance. You knew your limit and didn’t hesitate to sink onto him, a movement less gentle than you wished due to your legs being wrapped around his waist. Your breath was uneven, hitching up whenever you strained against him. Avoiding getting your insides impaled by a guy’s dick was surprisingly hard labour. Eventually you settled at his base, a sense of completion glowing off you.

There were no comforting touches or encouraging words from Sukuna, whose tranquil expression made him seem more like Yuji than himself. His eyes almost shut, jaw relaxed... This was the alternate universe version of Sukuna, a man who did not lust for domination and who would settle down with his loved ones for an eventless life. 

Hearing your dumb fantasies echo in your head, you rubbed your eyes with your knuckles until you saw stars. What idiocy. You had to cease these daydream scenarios or you’d be in deep shit in the future. You were an atrocious cultist.

---

I hope everyone enjoyed this. If you liked this, please give a comment/like/reblog. I listened to the Professor Tox remix of LOONA’s Girl Front and Ariana Grande’s Love Me Harder while writing this.

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

ahdflksjaklf;jsls ok buddies - I hate talking about 14x13: Lebanon, but it has relevancy in the “John Winchester is a villain and cannot and should not be redeemed” discourse as well as being a crucial piece of finale denialist lore so I Have Been Thinking About It Too Much.

As you may recall, the Occult Object of the Week - the pearl - in Lebanon is supposed to grant Dean’s “heart’s desire.” Dean and Sam are Very Sure this means expelling Michael (the Dean Winchester Must Be Saved installment of season 14) (honestly that premise always seemed a little slim to me, I was hoping for Dean’s heart’s desire to be Cas, on Dean’s car, naked, covered in bees). 

Instead they summon Dad of the Year, which at first feels infuriating.  However after discussion with my earworms, I Have Fixed It (and also turned it into a grenade to launch at 15x20.)

Finale denialists and John Winchester derogatorians ASSEMBLE! and let’s discuss after the cut.

I’ve written in depth about Dean’s struggles with the cycle of abuse, so I won’t go too far into it here, but if you want to revisit any of that meta this is a good place to begin.  This post hinges on the same theory - that Dean’s true freedom is established in his release from that cycle - that is the logical outcome of any hero’s journey for him, and where he would finally be able to accept happiness and love.  This logically would also make release from the cycle of abuse and the feelings of self-hatred Dean struggles with his “heart’s desire” for purposes of the pearl.  When it comes to emotions, we also know Dean doesn’t deal with them well.  He punches things instead.  So odds are, Dean hasn’t really worked through these feelings.  

Dean also mentions when John returns that “it was what [Dean] wanted since he was 4″ - when they lost Mary, right before John became obsessed with revenge.  Season 12 Mary canonically remembers John as a “good dad,” so we can draw a line from that to the abuse really starting shortly after her death.  This is also corroborated by Dean himself:

DEAN: You know when you died, it changed Dad. 

(A visual of the John Mary remembers) (just my excuse to put pictures of Matt Cohen on your dash) (I shouldn’t need an excuse) (Matt Cohen hi you are on Tumblr please don’t read any of this I’m embarrassed).

So what Dean has is pre-Mary’s-death John and post-Mary’s-death John, post-Mary’s-death John being the one whose abuse created Dean’s own damaged persona.  Dean thinks the fix is to stop things on the front end (he is ignoring any process-centered solution, he just wants it to never have happened, he is in denial that he has to work through this and just wants it to be erased, etc etc etc).  

***also keep in mind that going back in time to change things on the front end as a “fix it” is a storyline SPN repeats regularly***

***and it always ends up being impossible to do*** 

Ok so for Dean, his damage/anger/brutal nature/darkness is always linked to John, and this cycle “began” for Dean once their family was torn apart by Mary’s death.  So the fix is his “blood family” together.  That’s his heart’s desire in Lebanon because Dean hasn’t really worked through any of his emotions, and it’s his very Dean way of fixing it - “oh if my family gets put back together I will be put back together too.”

***speaking of quick fixes, I’d like to note that any case in SPN that is referred to as a “milk run”  inevitably becomes complicated and messy***

***continuing the thematics of there’s no such thing as a quick fix***

This is no different.  Stopping the cycle by simply erasing it from the narrative erases anything else that happened along the way during the journey.  It erases this Mary (who they know as a person by this point and not just the mom on a pedestal) 

and (most importantly) it erases this Cas (the episode specifically replaces Cas with one who Doesn’t Know Dean).

We Emphasize This Of Course In The Dialogue In Case You Missed It

DEAN Cas, you know us. ALTERNATE CAS I don’t know you.

***Simply erasing the origin of Dean’s trauma erases all of Dean’s growth.  It erases this family that Dean is so proud to tell John he has now. It erases everything he has already overcome despite how hard it was to achieve it.

So, John goes back.  In that way, the pearl does give Dean his heart’s desire - his realization that this is not about a quick fix, it is about the journey to the good, and all you gain and become along the way (kind of similar to “Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it" eh?).  it’s the process.  It’s every moment along the way.  It’s the people who help him get there.

And then he starts the healing journey by taking control of his own life, by owning his feelings instead of displacing the blame, by recognizing he is NOT guided solely by the actions of his father and this cycle:

DEAN

And for the longest time, I blamed Dad. I mean, hell, I blamed Mom, too, you know? I was angry. But say we could send Dad back knowing everything. Why stop there? Why not send him even further back and let some other poor sons of bitches save the world? But here’s the problem. Who does that make us? Would we be better off? Well, maybe. But I gotta be honest – I don’t know who that Dean Winchester is.

And the episode fucking ends with Cas, the Cas Who Knows Them coming into the bunker and asking them what happened, calling each of them by name just to emphasize again That He Knows Them, because Cas knowing Dean, and Cas being Dean’s family is the cornerstone of what Dean’s heart desires.

[CAS walks in from the door at the top of the stairs. SAM, DEAN and MARY walk out from the library to see him.]

CAS Mary, Sam, Dean. What happened?

So yeah, it took 14 damn seasons but Lebanon is where Dean realizes he can be defined by more than the acts of his father.  (That’s why it’s so terrifying for Dean when Chuck snatches back any control he gained in Season 15.  Because for Dean, Chuck is just John Winchester Controls My Every Action all over again, except he’s God which makes it even worse.) 

That’s also why the final blow to Chuck is not Dean killing him. 

The last stage in the journey that begins here with Dean’s “I’m good with who I am” - [I’m still bad and dark and damaged but I’m good with it]

is Dean’s “that’s not who I am.” [the most caring man on Earth; the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know]

Thats equally why 15x18 is so brilliant, 15x19 is at least acceptable, and 15x20 simply does. not. work.

Dean Winchester’s perfect heaven cannot possibly center on the blood family.  It does not have John Winchester and Mary, husband and wife, who took away his own free will.  It is THIS FAMILY.  The found family.  Cas and Jack and Sam and the Mary that was resurrected.  Dean’s entire character arc supports this journey, and to have it culminate in something that is so established in the season prior to this one as something Dean knows he no longer wants is maddening.

I’m even more mad now because I just remembered that the most prominent picture above Dying Sam’s bed was the blood family portrait from this episode; almost like they wanted us to remember this particular stupid lesson.  This show is so stupid when it could have been so so so very good.

***I want to say thanks again to all of you who read my spiraling if you got this far.  It’s therapeutic for me to do it, but it makes it all the better that people actually read it.  Seeing you in my notes MAKES my entire day****