#never truly his own self. never truly existing as his own being but a vessel of strategy to ensure

[ninkaku]

someone said jinx + vi can't be happy together in any universe ..... remind you of anyone :/

[koinotame]

idolatry

word count: 3.1K content warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, half self indulgent reader insert fanfiction half character study, unreality, religious undertones, possession is discussed abstractely, hypothetical harm to reader, the yandere is subtle but it's there

summary: you've somehow been reincarnated into a version of genshin impact where all the playable characters are self aware and seem besmitten with the player. the problem is that they can't make up their minds about whether you're their player or not...

a/n: aether vs your many fake fans

the flow of time has never felt steady to aether. despite how important it was to humans wherever he and his sister have traveled, there has always been a disconnect from it for him. You disappearing for months at a time is nothing out of the ordinary. time flows the same with or without You. like the sea's waves, it recedes and pushes. when he's used as a vessel by You, weeks can pass by in the blink of an eye and hours can feel like years spent in Your embrace. years have passed since You first started possessing them, and yet it's only been a couple of months at most. nothing moves forward in Your presence, nothing stays in stasis in Your absence.

so when he suddenly truly understands how humans experience the passage of time during another one of Your disappearances, aether immediately knows something is wrong. filled with dread and a harrowing heaviness deep in his gut that something has happened he can never take back, he finally understands what it means to be desperate for more time. have You abandoned him at last? has he not been enough, not quick enough to uncover this world's secrets and find his sister as You desired? finding you, clearly not from this world and trying to backtrack when you call him by his name—aether, his name, not Your sacred name he has been passing off as his own ever since Your arrival in teyvat—before any of Your other undeserving, fanatical vessels do seems nothing short of a miracle to him.

overjoyed at not having been abandoned after all, he clings to you and promises to protect and guide you through this foreign world—this time not as Your vessel, but as your first and most devoted follower. he doesn't need to be his own person, not when he can exist within the context of you.

paimon is less convinced. aether has turned even more immoderate and unnerving ever since your appearance, and she's not a fan. she… kind of understands. how important You are to aether, to the many others You've met through them during their journey. but does he—do any of them—really need to devote their entire being to You? she doesn't mind you, as a person, she really doesn't. but she doesn't like what You as a concept do to aether.

these days, she barely feels like she's part of the group, the one she formed with aether what seems so long ago, anymore. your arrival has completely overshadowed her presence. where she was previously part of a duo with her travel companion, she feels like little more than an afterthought now. she misses him. he calls her silly for it. she has only ever known him through Your command, so there isn't anything to miss. he's the same as he has always been. she just doesn't understand because You never graced her with Your embrace, and now that you have seemingly lost that ability perhaps she will never understand.

she says nothing, but she finds herself a little glad. better to never experience Your embrace, whatever that means, than lose herself completely in devotion to someone who clearly wants none of it.

the first archon they approach with you, venti, is apologetic but firm in the notion that aether is simply confused. he can understand how aether came to the conclusion, desperate and unused as he is following Your disappearance, but Your presence is simply unmistakable. he bids the two of you farewell amicably, but you find it impossible not to notice the difference in his demeanour afterwards when you run into him around the city. his smile is deftly crafted and practiced, his voice level and fingers steady as they pluck the strings of his lyre, but something about his eyes betray his own growing desperation.

if even aether is faltering like this, perhaps You really have abandoned them this time…? if he shows You how well mondstadt is faring, how much they've rebuilt and grown and thrived since You helped him quell dvalin's anguish, will You be proud of him and return? even if not to him, at least to the city? will You ever have Your vessels dance in the city square's fountain, or make the hike up the skyfrost nail to gaze upon the beauty of the unabating grey and white landscape again?

over time, even venti wavers and starts seeing what aether has seen in you. it is equal parts acceptance and desperation that drives him to you, to the one Your faithful traveler has placed his belief in, to feel Your embrace again, even if it can never be the same as it once was. he survived thousands of years without Your grace, to fold for it now that he knows what Your benevolence feels like is nothing short of shameful. the thought gnaws at him all the while until it has consumed him whole. in the end, he has not grown at all; still that little wind spirit desperate to not lose another he holds close. somehow, when you hold him, he can't seem to mind.

while the two of them have never discussed the matter of You explicitly, aether is perceptive enough to realise zhongli is one of the most reverent of the whole… of any of Your vessels. you called them cast without thinking the other day, whatever that meant. of Your cast. so he goes to him next, telling him that You've made Your way to this world permanently, that he's found You. his first instinct is anger, anger at your lying, anger that aether, who You have blessed with Your presence more than anyone else, who You picked as Your primary vessel, would fall for such mockery. aether was astute to not bring you along when he announced this, or perhaps you knew and chose not to yourself. it matters not. he knows he has proven himself to You, that the real You would never hesitate to reveal Yourself to him. instead of expression his righteous fury, he does his utmost to reign it in. if anything, this works in his favour. he almost feels sorry for aether, wrapped so tightly around the pinkie of a fraud.

upon meeting you properly, he realises perhaps he misunderstood the situation a little. zhongli isn't a fool (when he's not blinded by momentary rage, at least), he can see how uncomfortable you are with the whole situation. while you are not blameless for continuing this facade, aether has deluded himself and cast You aside entirely on his own—and when You finally grace them with Your real presence, zhongli is certain aether will be the first to fall from Your grace. that drunkard too, falling into temptation out of loneliness like that, will get what's coming to him.

until then, all he needs to do is keep his distance and stay as he is, as Your most loyal and dedicated devotee. until then, all he needs to do is send the two of you off. there is no need for him to get violent, not when Your punishment will hurt aether all the more. he thought he was long past such childish emotions, but he supposes that even now You breathe new vigor into him.

you shy either away from visiting inazuma entirely. seeing how the previous archons have reacted to you, you have little doubt that the raiden shogun would be the first to get violent. it's a dilemma you would rather avoid altogether, if possible. just in case. maybe your worry is misplaced, but… aether, of course, can never deny You, and the raiden shogun, of course, would meet your expectations without a proper thought.

the puppet has learned since, but much of the framework of logic she used to enact the vision hunt decree and rule over inazuma in the past several hundred years remains and is hard to completely make away with in such a short amount of time. imposing ei's will on a whole nation is wrong, but arresting and doing away with someone making a ridicule of You is a completely different thing. ei remains a little more hesitant, but even she cannot bring herself to completely disagree. You are the pinnacle of eternity, of control, of life—for some mere human to be impersonating You is unacceptable. hearing the traveler, Your closest companion, has put his trust in you would give her a bit of pause. he was right last time, so maybe this time as well… but then it was You who was right through him, not him in and of himself.

ultimately, your instincts would have turned out to be correct, and she buries herself in her plane once again, leaving the shogun to continue cleaning up inazuma. on her own, she imagines herself meeting You—the true You—and what it would be like to welcome you to her nation in earnest. she wonders if You would be proud of her.

nahida knows You immediately. she is the archon of wisdom, and weak as she may be, that title is not for nothing. your presence feels a bit differently from how it did when there was much more distance between You and her, but it pushes and pulls in a similar way. she doesn't feel she needs to, but should it come to it, she could always take a quick peek at your thoughts… and she would just get confirmation that she was right from the start. now that she's free—largely by virtue of You and the traveler—her word has much more weight than before. sumeru will always welcome You with open arms. if you prefer to live more privately, she understands that. but know that you can always come to her. for anything. she really, really means it.

it's only a small, selfish part of her, and she doesn't like thinking this way or how the other archons, the ones who should recognise You right away, are treating you, but a tiny part of her deep down finds herself feeling almost proud that she's the only one to recognise your grace. whenever you're around, she finds herself spending all of her free time with you. she wants to hear everything—your thoughts, your opinions, which weather or meal or nation you like better, your experiences, your home world, what it was like handling your vessels, everything and anything you deem fit to share with her. from how you indulge her, she's glad she also seems to bring you a similar comfort to the one You give her.

she wonders if Your embrace feels similar to when she possesses others' bodies. the warmth and absolute serenity that overtakes all of her senses when You control her can't compare to anything else. it's nice to be in at the helm of herself too, of course, especially with her newfound autonomy. but if You were to offer her that comfort permanently, she wouldn't be able to turn down Your offer.

when furina looks at you, she sees a reflection of herself. she might not recognise You, but she cannot bring herself to disdain someone in such a similar position to herself. she cannot imagine that You, kind and benevolent and goodhearted as You are, would want her to be cruel to you. whether that is her genuine belief or an attempt to redeem herself to You, after deceiving not only Your vessel but also You directly, does it matter?

Your presence has been a fairly recent entrance in her life, but she has been hearing about You for hundreds of years. she cannot remember a single conversation she ever had with her mirror self that did not feature You as a point of dialogue, of ambition. with only her and You to cling onto for hope for five hundred years, the only natural outcome was to develop such a strong faith and dependence on You. perhaps not as fervent as some of the other… archons, but not something that should be underestimated. Your presence in fontaine, even if through the traveler, had given her renewed hope at the time. as soon as she saw him for the first time, she knew.

your presence is… completely different. there's hints of You—likely residue You've left in the traveler—but not much else. she cannot believe in false idols, she tells the two of you, but she will see about providing some lodging for you. even if the traveler—even if aether is wrong about this, his service to fontaine deserves some merit, so she's sure this can be overlooked. it's what You would want, she hopes to herself. and if she finds herself seeking you out more and more, what difference does it make? when you smile so sweetly at her and praise her for holding on for so long, that you're proud of her, her resolve cracks.

neuvillette has always known of You. it is only when the traveler shows up in fontaine with Your presence in tow that he understands with certainty that You do exist, that he truly understands how wonderful Your warmth feels even at a distance and in these circumstances. You take Your leave for a while, and he thinks he is alright with that. even just knowing Your comfort so intimately (because this is already so much more than most are permitted), however brief, is enough for him. perhaps his returned authority also has an impact, but he is certain it would not have felt this invigorating without Your help.

and then You return, and he finds himself actually understanding what it means to be embraced. no sooner is he experiencing what it feels like to be whole for the first time before he finds himself in sumeru's desert, where he remains stranded for a week. Your presence fades until his punishment—for what, he remains uncertain—is complete, but Your hold on him does not, and something keeps him in place there the entire time. You do not use him much after that. he cannot deny Your judgement, even if he does not quite understand.

he learns of your arrival in teyvat through chance, by way of some opera gossip which happens to mention that furina has found herself a close friend. when he catches a glimpse of you… he cannot say he feels Your presence. none of you breathe a word about the subject to him, and it is only much later he learns of what you're hiding. if Your every loyal furina and Your first and most important vessel recognised You when he did not even so much as suspect it, where does that leave him?

of course childe would recognise You. that piece of the abyss that clawed its way into him so deeply it will never separate from him again would recognise You anywhere, even should ajax not. long before your current descent, he recognised Your strings of control much earlier than most of Your other vessels did. while he's never really given much thought to whether others have recognised You as well, he noticed the way Your presence lingered on aether in particular right away.

it's part of what drew him to the traveler in the first place—what's so special about him? why not childe? why did this outlander get to be Your vessel and he didn't? has he not proven himself enough for You? his mission aside, he felt a more personal disdain at the traveler. after he embarrassed himself in front of You and the truth came to light, he tries his hardest to redeem himself to the traveler. to You. so, naturally, when Your favourite little traveler comes to him with You in tow, he recognises You right away, as he always has. he's a little bitter, if anything—why did it take aether so long to come to him? does he not trust him? is he controlling You and Your actions? or—and he tries not to think about this too hard—is it You who doesn't trust him?

it doesn't matter. You're here now, and he's here for You now, and he'll do everything in his power to help You. You won't have to be alone any more, he promises, You won't have to hurt any more. nobody will harm You, ever again, not when he's here now. (he ignores how aether has easily stopped any harm from coming Your way so far without his help.)

it is you who thinks to approach albedo. the link is weak, but as soon as aether shows up at his makeshift lab in dragonspine with You in tow, he knows. it's as if he has no other option than to recognise You, however faint Your aura has become, as if there was never another possibility. it makes sense—after all, he was made for You. so were all the others, in a way, as was the whole world of teyvat, but not in the same way his master crafted him for You. to appeal to You. to be used by You. to find out the truth about You, though it's possible she just left him with that mission (to find out the truth about "the world"—You are the world) to keep him busy after she threw him away when he did not yield the results she was searching for. it doesn't matter. he's found You now, and he can't let you slip away. especially not to Your other, faulty vessels, those who couldn't recognise You at first glance.

thankfully, you seem fond of the area of the mountain and don't mind staying. you even take interest in his work, though you seem to not enjoy the constant sketches and pieces of art he produces of You for you as much. it's not the same as when You fill every molecule in his body and bend it to Your whim, but this is also nice.

one day you ask him about alice; she's been to different worlds, so you wonder if he could ask her about her methods. you seem hesitant, and you waited specifically until aether had left to collect some food for the next couple of days. it's a logical choice, Your favourite vessel would not take Your request well. albedo can't find it in himself to either. even if it's you asking, he cannot just let You leave, not after all this time. he promises you he will ask, but is honest when he tells you alice might take a long, long time to pass by mondstadt again, so… in the meantime, let him know if there's anything he could do to make Your stay here in teyvat more comfortable. anything at all. You're going to be here for some time, after all.

[crimsoncandy04]

What if... Scaramouche cucking Kabukimono

(meanwhile in a parallel universe)

You never thought in a million years that it would be possible for someone to actually defeat The Traveler. But it finally happened.

And Scaramouche had finally completed his life's ambition and become the Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom.

But it STILL wasn't good enough for him. Something inside of him still burned with an unquenchable thirst for vengeance. Yet he didn't understand why.

Had he not achieved everything he set out to do?

Why was he still so... unsatisfied?

And then he remembered you one night.

You who had fought so bravely until you had been dealt a near fetal blow that had caused you to become comatose and unaware of the deaths of your old friends. You who had been clever in your attacks and almost just as underhanded as him sometimes.

Scaramouche could respect it.

A little.

Your martial prowess was often overshadowed by your disgusting and burdensome sensitivity.

You didn't want to hurt people.

Not if you didn't have to anyway.

It was your weakness and eventual downfall. Because after hearing Scaramouche's own life story and sympathizing with him, you were hesitant in finishing him off like you should have.

And he had seized the opportunity.

Emotions were a scourge on the face of humanity. Making them irrational. Making them weak.

You were no exception it seemed.

At least he, in all his wisdom and glory could understand this and overcome it.

Even if it was hard sometimes.

Scaramouche continued to imagine you, scared, confused, mournful, angry, and utterly alone in your cell beneath the sanctuary. He wanted to laugh at your circumstance or at least belittle you in his mind, but that same burning and nagging feeling ended up preventing him from doing so.

What was wrong with him?

Did he perhaps... feel bad for you?

Why?

You and that pesky traveler had been nothing but a thorn in his side since the day you met.

So why, now that he had won. Had locked you away until you were healthy enough to be tried by law, did he continuously have dreams about your teary face? The deep sorrow that probably plagued your heart after learning that your friends were gone?

Why did Scaramouche... feel like he was experiencing some kind of deja vu whenever he pictured you all alone with no one to turn to?

It was that original sin of his wasn't it?

The very same feeling of empathy that had besmirched his very being since the day of his creation.

Why wouldn't it die?

It needed to.

But alas...the spirit of his former self lived on inside of Scaramouche's mind like a parasite.

And he hated how YOU triggered it.

It took a few weeks for Scaramouche to finally come up with a plan to solve both of his problems.

First was to extract the essence of his former consciousness and self via an abyssal reach that only a god could ever hope to accomplish. It had exhausted him in doing so.

But the results were better than ideal.

Secondly, use the knowledge of the world at his disposal as well as what he could remember about himself and his own inner workings to create another vessel for the extracted consciousness.

And lastly, order some attendants to retrieve you from your prison cell below and bring you to him somewhat sedated and pumped full of some new drug that had been created by the fatui for torture purposes.

Once Scaramouche laid eyes on the perfect physical replica/clone of Kabukimono as well as a half conscious and drooling you on the floor, he knew that he would leave this room with there being no more doubt in the world,

That Scaramouche was truly the most powerful being in existence.

***Time Skip***

You sit awkwardly as the machine beneath you brought you to orgasm for the 6th time in a row. The giant purple dildo thrusts in and out of your soaking wet pussy quickly, assaulting your g spot repeatedly whether you liked it or not.

All the while, the monster who had you injected with powerful aphrodisiacs and sedatives was just watching the sybian destroy your cunt with a sick delight in his eyes. You wanted to yell at him through your ball gag but instead you just continued to moan loudly as you felt yourself piss again. Even then the machine didn't stop.

Scaramouche laughed coldly as he grew bored of you and soon turned to face his former self who he had bound in a similar fashion to you just a few feet away. Kabukimono's arms were pulled tightly behind his back. Secured to his ankles, forcing his legs apart.

Scaramouche couldn't stand the pitiful and obvious longing in those eyes. Especially when he heard you scream or cry through your gag. Kabukimono's eyes would widen even more. Torn between wanting to help you, and also wanting to take you.

It was no mistake. Scaramouche knew this because even if he DID find you detestable at best, as far as human women went, you had quite a soft and sensual body that just BEGGED for someone to ravage it.

Scaramouche had considered setting it up many times in the past. Making it to where his subordinates distracted your annoying companions while he had his way with your pretty body secretly.

But he has fought those needless and lowly desires instead.

However seeing the lust in the eyes of Kabukimono, made him realize that perhaps, this attraction to you was something that he couldn't fight. Something that even his most inexperienced form was feeling whether he understood what it meant yet or not.

And if this was true, then Scaramouche would conquer these feelings too. He'd keep you as a fuck doll for himself and at the same time, show this annoying and pesky version of himself that HE was stronger.

And HE was in charge here.

Scaramouche walked over and after casting Kabukimono a withering look, he began to press his sandal against Kabukimono's shaft. Forcing his hardened cock to be uncomfortably crushed against the ground underneath Scaramouche's foot.

Kabukimono whimpered as tears began to leak from his eyes and his nipples hardened. He was aroused from the pain and Scaramouche couldn't help but feel nothing but disgust towards him for it.

"you want the girl huh?"

Kabukimono nodded quickly. His own gag stifled his voice as he groaned slightly at the sensation of Scaramouche putting more of his weight down on his dick.

"Too bad. You seriously think I would let YOU have her before ME? That I'd let you fuck her with this useless cock of yours that gets off from being crushed?"

Scaramouche chuckled wickedly. Seeing Kabukimono blush a little as he heard you cry out again. His eyes fixated on the dildo as it stretched you apart and kept you in such a lewd position with your juices coating the floor beneath you for all to see.

Scaramouche couldn't stand it.

He crouched down and grabbed hold of Kabukimono's cock. Roughly stroking it then to the pace of the toy penetrating you in front of him.

"you wish that was your cock fucking her right? Tearing her apart and making her cum?" Scaramouche taunted. Continuing to pull several soft moans from his former self as he continued to pump his own cock.

"Do you even know HOW to use this pathetic thing yet? I doubt it. That machine isn't even real and it's better than this thing between your legs."

Kabukimono's back arched a little as artificial semen suddenly squirted from his dick. Coating Scaramouche's hand. Scaramouche narrowed his eyes in disgust as he tried to shake the stuff off.

"pathetic. You actually ejaculated from that? Oh how pitiful I truly was." Scaramouche got to his feet and turned back to you. Your head had slumped back a little and tears leaked out from underneath your blindfold as another orgasm was ripped from your body. He watched you gasp and tremble as you remained helpless in your bondage. A sadistic gleam filling his indigo eyes as another idea suddenly came to him.

He knelt down again and reached out to tease your swollen clit a little as he spoke.

"get used to it doll. I could make it hurt worse. However, if you behave during the next game I have planned for you, I'll make you feel better than anyone else ever could ~" Scaramouche purred. His touch makes you squeal as you try to fight back another climax but fail miserably.

"so fragile. So many ways I could make you crumble and break. I wonder if...I could somehow make this part even more sensitive."

You feel him pinch your pleasure nub between your legs and you struggle to not pass out. What was this bastard planning next for you and his other self?

[lupintrio]

"Your ability doesn't matter, that sorrow has value."

I adore specifically this page in bsd, probably one of my favourites, I just have to talk about it.

Ranpo's words were the understanding and kind of validation Yosano seeked in face of her trauma, her lack of direction in life and her belief in not only her inhumanity but her existence as nothing beyond a tool of war stemming from her ability, but also the vessel of pain.

"Angel of Death", if you will.

The suppressed emotions and anguish that came with her believing she "did not deserve" and Ranpo's understanding. Ranpo assuring her that she had the right to feel emotions and had the right to express herself, to exist beyond the confines of what she had came to believe her purpose had lied in after the war. The blood on her hands, the hatred that shifted her from an innocent child that wanted to help those in need, into a self loathing child stripped of her identity and humanity due to war.

The soldiers, that had gone from adoring her for being their savior, depending on her, into a burning hatred for their inability to die, to witness death up close so many times, to fight a losing war repeatedly without the ability to truly die.

That change made yosano realize that her ability was a curse, a curse that brought nothing but despair to the soldiers, despite how "living" had always been considered a blessing. Her original intention, born out of good will had become nothing but the carrier of pain for those whom she touched and healed.

Tachihara's brother's suicide was the final nail to the coffin. Although being the one who treated Yosano with kindness, giving her the hairclip but also the "angel", to ignite her will further by counting how "righteous" she was depending on the amount of times she had healed him, he ended up giving into the horrors.

"You are too right" he said,

leaving an etched platter, of Yosano's "righteousness". The human heart was faint, and he, who longed to go back to his own family, had given in, knowing the war was only a never ending torturer as long as Yosano was there. The suicide further stabilized Yosano's self loathing beliefs, "Angel of Death" he said, her ability both a blessing and a curse to those whom she had healed. the saviour as well as the grim reaper that both gave and took generously. It was her ability and precense that ripped away the value of living, her ability that continued to be a tormenter of the many soldiers who had come close to experiencing death but not being able to achieve so. Yosano had realized, and in the process had her "humanity" stripped away from her.

Even after the war, with Yosano being locked away, then released to witness the seperation of zskk. zskk had seperated, by on one hand, a mafia boss that would do anything to protect the city, no matter how immoral, to a past samurai that would create an organization in the day, while also harboring the peace of Yokohama collectively. Fukuzawa understood the toll war had taken on Yosano, hence called Mori heartless for wishing to take her back under his wing again, the two fought, and Yosano had watched silently.

Yet Ranpo saw her, and had wheeled her away from the battlefield.

"Your ability doesn't matter, your sorrow has value" was SUCH an important and chilling line while I read, and definitely to Yosano as well.

She is offered a place where she is able to freely express herself without the burden and fear of constantly abusing her ability and in the process "cheapening the value of life around her" despite her want to simply "save others", it was her kindness that was manipulated yet still remained in her heart, a kindness that tore her up from the insides, seeing her dream torn to shreds before her very own eyes, as those she saved became highly dependent on her, growing careless, or growing haunted by the touch of the Angel of Death. It was what caused her to believe she had no right to live, as she had cheapened the lives of others, as she was only a bringer of misfortune and pain, despite her young age. It was her powerful ability, and kindness that left her afraid and hurting to use her ability again. Yet, the words Ranpo told her, was a reassurance that there is a place where she could belong, where her kindness is a priority rather than her ability, a chance to "live" the life she couldn't, and break free from the fear that gnawed at her that built up progressively throughout the war. Allowing her a chance to start anew, the chance to express herself freely, to love and feel freely, to restore the empty hole within her, that longed believed she had no reason to live or exist as someone who was "inhumane". A newfound direction that shone light on her.

And it all leads back to one thing, healing. While BSD also shines light on the traumas of war, it is commendable for its realistic portrayal and writing of mental issues, Yosano proves to be wonderful portrayal of PTSD. The entirety of BSD, is also about healing and growth, to learn to accept your trauma as a part of yourself, to learn to live and grow from it and become a better version of yourself. See Atsushi as an example, an ability borne from the sole desperation of a child protecting himself from an environment, an ability that took form of a beast as a defensive mechanism, eventually learning to accept byakko instead of only staring down at it with hatred, remaining stuck in one place (see Dead Apple) and learning to come to peace with it.

See Akutagawa, who had slowly learnt to break free from his abusive past, to find a new meaning in life and protect those who he learnt to cherish, to rid himself of the coat as a means to leave himself vulnerable, if only to protect another. Rashoumon who originally was an ability that was all bite, offensive, despite its origin being the fabric that protects the human body from sight. All BSD characters fall under the cycle of the remnants and trauma of war, creating a far more extensive chain of self destruction and abuse. The abuse cycle that we speak of is not only limited to the ones we know now, but an entire web where its source came from the cruelty of war. See Fukuchi who had been so determined to avoid another war, for humanity to reach peace after he had witnessed the horrors of it himself and survived, which led to him creating a lie, to antagonize himself if only it meant to reach his goal, but falling prey to Dostoevsky's absurd lies, and losing not only his identity, but his ultimate goal in the process. A tragic tale, but realistic beliefs told in a fictional world.

One would have to shoulder the burden of their trauma, but to learn to cope with it was another story. I believe Yosano's butterfly hairclip holds similar symbolism, in terms of her trauma and how she came to terms with it.

The truth would be, she hadn't, and she hadn't learnt to truly forgive herself for her "sins" in the past, the blood on her hands that followed her forever, but to receive the hairclip on that fateful day again, was proof that Yosano wasn't to avoid it any longer, but rather carry it with her as a symbolism of grief, memories, her trauma, but also the fresh beginning where she would learn to grow out of her trauma from. A piece of memory from the soldier who had fallen but generously gifted her the hairclip during war.

It is to say that although some memories may haunt us for life, as trauma does at times, we were to carry it with us and move on. Yosano who didn't believe she earned the right to live for such, was told and relieved of the fact that it was her kindness that brought her pain, that someone, even like her, was deserving of another chance in life rather than throwing it away. As she grew, she still had thsi remnant of memory stuck to her, but she is trying, she is learning, and she is breathing, and isn't that more than enough?

A final note would be, I truly do adore Yosano, and many other characters in BSD, heavily underrated despite their well written characters. Although BSD is a fictional series, I can't help but appreciate how it's not afraid to touch on more realistic and darker topics, while mixing it with a hint of lighthearted humor and literary references inbetween, a fine masterpiece.

Thank you for reading thus far.

[yuugimoto16]

Those Edenic Days

Prologue

Edenic:

1)Bible The garden of God and the first home of Adam and Eve. Also called Garden of Eden.

2)A delightful place; a paradise.

3)A state of innocence, bliss, or ultimate happiness.

Once upon a time

There was nothing and within this nothing, God came into being. It, they, what, did not matter God was God and the only thing that had ever existed, no such mortal labels could ever encompass it as there would never be any binds to a being such as God. Truly even the label of God is only a shallow reflection of this being. Shallower than even the softest breeze. Though it was with in this existence that a being such as God began to feel its inner self wilt, for with this emptiness came a hollow void of purpose. This being saw that it could not stand this state of affairs. So, drawing upon its own might it created in a bang of cosmic wonder and light it brought upon the universe the stars and masses of twinkles the painted a canvas across the sky. It wanted to create a universe that was stable and allowed for a cradle of creation to flourish with new wonders in what it would soon call life. Though it realized that such a grand task would need constant attention, and some of the beings it would want to create would not be able to stay afloat in the cosmic sea if it were to be gone for prolonged periods.

With this foresight of diverged attention in the future. This being took up the mantel of god and created his angels to be the stewards and attendants to their creations. With that he set them with the trial of tending to a project that would be the home of their most magnificent creation. Yes, they created a great many things to reflect God, but within this land, a nursery crucible he named Eden, was where he would house his greatest creation. From the dust rose not just a reflection, but a puddle. Something that would truly house the most powerful traits of god, the potential in each and every one of them. It was this creation, made with the unconditional love, that he housed the soul in a vessel made from the dust of the earth and named him Adam. With this creation he gave Adam a partner in the name of Lilith created from the same patch of earth, so that within each other, both may never find loneliness. Giving them both the blessings of immortality, beauty, and health with their only duties in naming the animals and plants along with being fruitful, absolutely nothing could go wrong.

If only a story could ever be so simple.

Hey everyone this is my crack at actually writing the stories that I admire other people for writing chapters will be posted in chunks so as to keep content consistent throughout the entirety of the story. I post on AO3 as well and I welcome any and all criticism though open harassment against other users will be prohibited. Hope you all like my silly little fairytale.

Also Thank @twost3ps for allowing a loser like me to actually touch this au. Next chunk of chapters will be posted in January 2025

[haine-kleine]

a slightly surrealistic take on why the Dabi is never around:

when Touya was still in coma, AFO didn't let go of his plan to prepare the boy as his future vessel. the state of his body allowed AFO to take more risks with him, and thus he gave Touya an experimental quirk he engineered, one that could give him Yoichi back. the quirk can take the user to the alternate universe where his greatest desire is fulfilled, while still keeping them tethered to their original reality, allowing to freely move between the worlds if they so desire.

when Touya woke up from the coma and ran back home, the shock of what he saw there had activated his new quirk. he is thirteen again. he is also the only son of Todoroki Enji, Fuyumi is now his only sibling. his hair is red again, like it used to be, like it always was supposed to be, and he doesn't burn anymore, the grotesque skin grafts only an uncomfortable memory. his father looks at him with such pride it takes Touya's breath away. he got so used to having to beg for sideway glances from his dad, like the very sight of Touya makes him ashamed. this new world is a dream come true, everything he ever wanted put directly into his palms. his body does not betray him, his father entrusted his dream to him, his heir, his only heir, his mother and sister supporting him instead of turning away from him.

and then he remembers Shouto. little Shouto, who was born perfect, born to replace him. he remembers attacking him when he was just a baby. he was so little then, and he vividly recalls the burning hatred that consumed him, how much he wanted Shouto, that perfect thing, gone.

Shouto was never born in this world. as Touya thrives in this dreamlike reality, he can't help thinking about the missing parts. did his dream kill Shouto? did it kill Natsuo? is he worse than the father he left behind in that horrible world, the father that made children like objects to be used? the more he thinks about it, the less enjoyable this new world becomes to him. his mother, who looks at him and at Enji with such open fondness, his sister who is his best friend now, who proudly tells her classmates about her brother, who is training to become the greatest hero, his father who doesn't even seem like the same man he had been chasing for nine years. his own selfish happiness. is all of that worth the price two little boys paid for it? is he truly so self centered to think his happiness is more important than the lives of his own brothers? had his father not stopped him, would he have actually killed little Shouto?

as he starts dwelling on this more and more, missing his little brothers, fixating on the guilt of erasing them from existence by proxy of being born the 'right way', he activates the quirk again. in the new universe he is 10 years old, and as soon as he sees Natsuo he bursts into tears. his little brother worriedly asks what father did this time, and Touya can't form any reply, pulling Natsuo in a tight hug. this is the first time Natsuo's brother has hugged him. later, when Touya calms down enough to stop squeezing Natsuo like he's going to disappear, the boys leave their shared room. what Touya sees next doesn't make any sense.

'Touya-nii, Natsu-nii, let's play!' a tiny boy with a gap toothed smile and rosy cheeks holds out a ball to them.

Shouto had never been allowed to step foot in the hall on this side of the building. father never allowed them to even look at each other directly. Touya's breath catches in his throat, his heart starting to beat rapidly. he hears the loud footsteps that are about to be followed by screaming, why did Shouto think this was a good idea to come here-

then the real Enji passes them by, reminding Shouto about the afternoon training, ruffling Touya's hair on his way to leave.

if the previous world was a dream come true, this one is extremely confusing.

eventually he learns that the difference here is that he had never attacked Shouto, and his father had never isolated his youngest brother from the rest of the siblings. all four of the Todoroki children are allowed to spend time together. remembering the heavy weight Natsuo and Shouto's absence put on his chest in the previous world, he decides to let go. it was him who wanted all of his siblings, and he already got to live his dream once. his vulnerability to fire is back, and the memory of burning alive is suddenly a vivid nightmare keeping him up at night. he looks at his mother's calm, relaxed face, as she watches a movie with the children. he thinks back to the stitched up, unfamiliar face he saw looking back at him in the hospital mirror. he thinks back to Fuyumi-chan's words, from when they were little. she doesn't want to see him hurt. he doesn't want to be hurt either. is it really so bad to let go? he glances at his family. Shouto is snoring his icy snot bubble with his head on their mother's knees. Natsuo is gripping Touya's shirt tightly, pushing his head into his shoulder, pretending he is not crying about the sentimental scene that is happening on the screen. Fuyumi is invested in the movie, but after hearing Touya's snort glances at their younger brothers and exchanges a grin with him. the calmness he feels here is like a warm blanket, the comfort such a faraway memory he had almost forgotten this feeling. would it really be so bad to let go and enjoy it?...

he wakes up once again. he is not at home and he is alone this time. 'wake up, sleepyhead', ghosts of children whisper to him, and the dread starts to sink in. he is back in his original world, the garish scars on his whole body as stark as he remembers them. he learns that two years have passed since he woke up from coma. he is no longer a middle schooler, Todoroki Enji's heir training to become the number one hero, nor a ten years old boy surrounded by an accepting and caring family. he is an adult, covered in self inflicted scars, with nowhere to go to. he feels like a child who had his candy taken away. it's so unfair! were those worlds just dreams his sick mind hallucinated while he was in another coma, and who on earth had been taking care of him this time?

this sends him back to the first alternate universe. he is back to being Enji's pride, separated from his brothers.

this goes on for a long time, as he clumsily learns to control this world travelling quirk. he spends as much time as possible in the two worlds, using them to escape the progressively glaring reality of the time slipping through his fingers, becoming a disfigured homeless adult having to fend for himself. on a particularly nasty night, his hunger and loneliness equally suffocating, he decides to come back home. if being away from his family is the main problem, then he can simply come back, can't he? maybe, if he stayed when he came back for the first time, if he didn't start crying and ran away from the sight of his father training his youngest brother in his place, if he revealed himself, they would have accepted him like they did in the second world. he misses the comforting chill of his mother's touch. he misses his father, the memories of the monster who beat his mother and his youngest son drifting away in the mess of the conflicting memories he made as a world traveler. he looks down at his reflection in the muddy puddle, the street lights painting his rough features red. he takes a deep breath, and heads in the direction of the Todoroki mansion.

he doesn't even get past the gate before Endeavor's sidekick almost arrests him. Enji joins in to the chase, and the cold derisive detachment his father looks at him makes him stumble. he escapes on pure adrenaline, overexerting his quirk and nearly burning both of his arms off. this is how he meets Giran. this is when he decides to stay in this world permanently. even if it feels like being thrown out from heaven straight to hell, he can't indulge in this escapism anymore, wasting the years he has left in the real world. he has to steel himself and make do with the life he has in this world, separated from his family. Todoroki Touya was left behind in the past, in other worlds, a faraway concept buried by time and space and impossibility of his existence, stretched thin between three different lives.

***

Dabi is a very weird individual. it’s a commonly accepted opinion in the League of Villains, a group consisting exclusively of weird individuals.

Shigaraki won’t tell this to anyone, but the initial reason he let Dabi join, let him stay, despite his rudeness and open lack of interest in his, his leader's case, is because the man is a mystery, one even his Sensei is fascinated with. when he disappears without any warning for the first time, Shigaraki uses all of his resources to try and track Dabi, to punish him for his betrayal. a week goes by, and he turns to Sensei with a humble request for help. his Sensei doesn't even appear angry with his failure, informs him that Dabi is going to be impossible to find until he allows himself to be. Shigaraki knows that Dabi has a fire quirk, how is this possible? does he have an ally who will hide him with their quirk? but even Giran didn’t know where the man disappeared to, didn’t crack even when Shigaraki made Twice, the sweet unassuming man he knew Giran trusted, contact him asking for help with locating Dabi. he ponders this, scratching viciously at his neck (Kurogiri pulls his hands away), and the look on his Sensei’s face, an almost gleeful smile, the proud tone of his voice, make him stop.

does Dabi actually have two quirks?..

***

despite the common notion, Toga is not actually the harebrained cutesy teenage girl that she pretends to be. what she is, is a good judge of character, and a very good actor. it takes one to know one, and she cracks Dabi’s mask before she even learns the man’s name. everything about him feels artificial. she knows Shigaraki and Spinner are pissed at him for not being serious about the League of Villains. she feels Dabi isn’t serious about anything. the more time she spends around him, the more she feels like she is interacting with a very bad actor who landed a role he never wanted to participate in. when he is not active on villain duty, it’s like he isn’t sure what his script should be, hiding behind his phone most of the time.

 still, when Shigaraki throws his second tantrum because Dabi came back after two weeks of no contact, she finds the sulking man hiding from everyone in the garage.

“you should learn to be a better actor, if you want to pull your thing off”, she tells him in a serious voice. it’s their first serious interaction, and Toga feels like a predator stalking her prey. no matter how much Dabi shows off his scars and throws insults around, he can’t hide the fast pumping of his heart. she allows herself to look at him, really look at him at him, and she finds that his glittery blue eyes don’t belong on his face. his eyes are too honest, too open, raw emotion presented like an open book. after a long moment of silent eye contact, he slumps in defeat, hugging his knees and making such forlorn sight that Toga almost feels bad for him.

“i will, just don't tell on me”.

no one is sure how old Dabi actually is, his voice so raspy it could belong to a serial smoker or to an old man, his face too damaged by the scars to make any age lines identifiable, but sometimes the things he says, the tone of his voice, make Toga think of a boy, rather than a man.

[moonlitcomet]

I think what makes gildedguy and the dragon of mar such an interesting and wonderful story to me is the intense emotional depth within it. It is, without a doubt, a tragedy - the main antagonist is tragic, he's a character you connect to personally before the end of the animation. He's a character you want to help, but is doomed by his existence and his past.

[spoilers and lots of disconnected thoughts below]

And he's a character who our MC tries to help - but gets refused every single time, from the day they meet to moments before Mar dies. Mar is a sympathetic character but has lost himself in his own evil, and refuses to accept that he could change for the better.

He isolates himself - and seems to accept Gildedguy into his life as a potential new friend. Maybe the only friend he's had in decades. The amount of time they spend together, and the amount of time Gildedguy spends trying to help this man, is really what makes Mar's end such a huge gut punch.

A lot of people are criticizing the ending of story 8 as Sable killing Mar "for no reason", which is not only tone deaf but also completely misreading the entire story presented to them. This story was never going to have a good ending, but with the story being told from Gildedguy's perspective, we were given a twinge of hope that maybe just maybe he could send Mar on the path to self-improvement.

Mar has been evil, and has been pillaging and killing people for probably decades at this point, what with how huge his gold hoard and skeleton collection is. He is too far gone, in the sense that he has resigned himself to the idea that he could never improve. Us, the viewers, having an idealistic approach at a story that could only end in pain and suffering for at least some individuals involved, gives us more expectation and more pain when the realization hits you:

You can't save everyone.

Some crimes are just too severe to be forgiven, and even if they aren't, some people are just too lost in their own self-hate to accept your help. Mar's crimes have overtaken him to the point that he can hardly exist, or even look at himself, without retreating inside the dragon that protects him and is his vessel of violence.

Having such little things - such tiny twinges of hope and beauty - set off such a deep evil in you that you resort to lashing out and violence, is a sign of someone filled with hurt, pain, and tragedy. It's a sign of someone who is past saving, despite how much you want to save them.

Gildedguy was the knight in shining armor, he spent four months building this massive machine to protect the people he cares about - Mar included. He opened himself up to this man, he tried to connect with him on a personal level in a moment of vulnerability, showing his face and trying to make himself seem like less of a threat.

And yet, even to the end, Mar still refused him, which led to his demise.

Gildedguy is a hopeful, whimsical person who wants to befriend and help just about everybody he comes across. He connected to Mar on a personal level the day they met, spending time together and sharing food. He could see a little of himself in Mar, they shared laughs and smiles, and a deep-seated regret and pain.

And he feared a little bit, for who and what Mar is.

But even still, he was willing to look past what he saw in himself, and continued being kind to Mar, in a rare act of genuine kindness that I doubt Mar has ever seen.

This leads well into how much Gildedguy tries to help his new friend throughout the story, and how tragic it is that Mar had to die. Gildedguy related to him, but not in a way that could save his friend. And despite how Gildedguy saw himself in Mar, the same could not be said for Mar seeing himself in Gildedguy.

Ultimately, that is why Mar could not and would not accept the help. He couldn't think of anyone else who'd really, truly be able to handle the evil and pain that he goes through and inflicts upon others. He has no hope for himself. He has no life or color.

He is just a broken, tired, dead-inside man who knows nothing else aside from the dragon he hides inside.

And Gildedguy slowly came to this realization as the story went on. He didn't know what Mar had done when first meeting him. But he came across the hoards of gold, the skeletons, the stolen treasure, and the people he's stolen away and doomed to death and saw just how much harm Mar has done to the world around him.

In the end, he resigned himself to the fact that Mar did not want to be saved, as much as Gildedguy wanted to save Mar.

He accepted his death, as painful as it was in the moment.

[go6jo]

i wonder whether geto truly believed it was his duty to protect the weak or if it just gave his suffering and agony from ingesting curses a meaning, a purpose.

throughout the series we notice that a common motif amongst those who step into the jujutsu world is that one must have some kind of motivation, a driving force that keeps them going despite all the hardships they may face. yuuji wants to bring dignity to those around him, even in death, maki wants to prove the zenin clan wrong etc etc. human beings need to feel useful, to feel they have a reason as to why they exist otherwise life feels meaningless. this is where id like to introduce a couple panels, paralels if you will: 

“weak jujutsu sorcerers don´t have a sense of self” in that panel megumi is discussing with yuuji how both of them have different goals and ideals and one must come to terms with the fact there is not a universal truth, neither are wrong in their respective perspetives and each must commit to their own path and remain true to themselves - as long as you have a clear objective its harder to stray from the path you set for yourself however, without a clear destination, ones prone to roaming around aimlessly. you must be unwavering. 

now fast forward to this panel about geto. after the events of the star plasma vessel arc suguru’s previous beliefs start to waver. he was never weak imo, instead he had a moment of weakness. he felt helpless because he had failed what he thought was his calling multiple times already - riko, haibara - his calling to protect. and maybe he was starting to struggle to grasp what was his purpose then. and what he was worth. maybe he wasnt that strong after all. maybe he wasnt needed. gojo could handle everything on his own now. how can he help, how can he be useful. how can he put his agony from exorcising curses to good use. 

and when he was at his most vulnerable nobody was there to guide him. to put him back on track. people can be gullible when facing a crisis and yuki appeared as a light, a solution to his problems. she gave him a purpose again. however from my point of view, in the end he never strayed much too far from his initial goal to protect. if he had once sacrificed himself to protect those who are too weak to protect themselves, then he had yearned to create a world where he wouldnt have to witness those close to him, his friends and peers lose their lives, he wanted to purge all that endangered them, he had wanted them to be safe. even if it cost the lives of the weak. he went from being selfless to selfish. but is it selfish to want to protect those closest to you? to prioritize them? i think that he is (was) a caretaker at heart.

[dykesynthezoid]

Do you notice the way men who think they’ve been “left behind” by feminism and the left deny their own agency while simultaneously denying the agency of others. Idk, maybe it’s real easy to make yourself out to be the victim when you’re actively keeping yourself in that cage. Nothing’s their fault, right, and by establishing themselves as someone who things happen to, who is somehow a purely receptive vessel for the rest of world’s suppose hatred, they also reject the idea of having any personal power over their own situation.

These are men complaining about feeling rejected and disempowered, while actively denying themselves the right to act like human beings whose actions have direct consequences on the world around them.

I think the major blind spot we’re looking at is a willingness to take responsibility.

Taking responsibility for one’s actions is, in reality, ego affirming. It reminds us that we have a fundamental power to affect the world and people around us. And thank god. No one wants to imagine what it would be like to leave no impression whatsoever— to be unable to alter our environment in any definable way. That is what a complete lack of agency would look like.

But in taking responsibility for the effects our actions can have on others, we tell ourselves a story where we do have agency. Where we do have power. And we can use it.

But men aren’t telling themselves that story. They actively deny themselves that agency. Which I guess isn’t a surprise considering so many men are used to denying themselves the right to act humanly. They constantly berate themselves, denying themselves the right to feel, the right to experience, the right to exist without self-judgement. And then they hold other men to that same standard.

We know these men don’t like themselves. If someone truly likes and trusts themselves, they will have no issue taking responsibility. This is because they know that they deserve the opportunity to grow and learn. They see the potential consequences of their actions and trust in their own resilience and sense of self enough to face them head-on. What does it say about your opinion of yourself if you cannot envision yourself weathering such consequences? How low must you see yourself to think that you could never rise to the occasion?

Men think the world hates them? Maybe that has more to do with how they treat themselves than they realize.

Of course these men only know how to blame others for their own supposed dejection. They’re literally the ones keeping themselves in a state of feeling disempowered. They are actively denying their own humanity. And if you’re denying your own humanity I’m sure it’s way too easy to deny everyone else’s too. The only reason to want to control everyone else, to want to take everyone else’s agency away, is if you can truly believe in your own disempowerment.

And also— when these men deny themselves agency, they’re denying themselves the right to connect authentically with the world around them. To be an active participant. I think deradicalizing these men isn’t just about them learning to care about something other than themselves; I think the care, specifically, denotes a feeling of connection, right. Shrimp guy liked taking care of his shrimp. He liked the active role it provided him to care for something. It made him someone who could act and respond in exchange with the world around him. Give and take. And from a grounded, stable sense of identity. “I am someone who takes care of this thing.”

Men can stop forcing themselves into a place of perceived powerlessness any time they want. They can leave the self-hatred victim cage at any time. There are even endless demonstrable benefits to them for doing so. So why are they still in there? Because it’s starting to seem like they just hate themselves enough to damn everyone else with them. They hate themselves and yet they get to decide that nobody else matters, either.

[kuwanxs]

Endeavour - A tribute to his eternal mockery.

Mha represents the feeling of inferiority and its eventual transition into obsession through perspective of multiple characters. Endeavour is a more violent example of it. He is, by no means, a shallow character, Whether you like him or not is upto you but Endeavour’s actions brilliantly depict how violently consuming obsession fuelled by inferiority can be.

He exists to be a beacon of lacklustre achievements who fails to truly retain his potential under All Might’s reign as the symbol of peace. His individual victories are not greatly highlighted upon because to him, every other achievement stands insignificant in front of his life goal. Endeavour’s character is a byproduct of an unresolved inferiority complex that stems from a one sided rivalry (All Might never truly considered Endeavour his rival). This inferiority bleeds into despair and eventual obsession as he finally comes in terms with the fact that he might just never be the number one hero. So he marries Rei, he decides to produce an ideal off spring who would carry his legacy to surpass the symbol of peace.

Unfortunately for Endeavour, all might resigns almost immediately after Shoto’s admission into UA, which was never truly predicted due to All Might’s lack of transparency of his injuries to the public. So when Endeavour becomes the number one hero, it comes like mockery to him.

His obsession to surpass All Might had blinded him to the point where he failed to see humanness in his own children, not even his ideal creation. In the initial chapters of the manga, he often refers to Shoto using third person pronouns, reducing him to a mere vessel for the achievement of his lifelong goal. While Touya’s death was a gravely moving point in Endeavour’s life, it never truly changed him, he remained the same at his very core.

Endeavour’s abuse towards Rei and his other children is simply a depiction of his own loss of sanity and morality due to being consumed by his obsession and deep sated inferiority. He fails to see his own self as human due to his long lasting feeling of failure.

Comically, and tragically too, this feeling of failure manifests itself so deeply into his life that not only does he fail to surpass All Might, but he also fails to become a father or a husband, let alone a person.

Endeavour’s change marks that very point of his life where he realises the hopelessness of his dream. He became the number one hero, yet fails to find the same reverence for himself in the hearts of the masses like All Might did, when he goes home, he is met with a shell of a person he should’ve been. This marks the very rock bottom of his inferiority complex, he achieves everything, the number one position, the ideal child, everything he had strived for, yet he is met is the same fate. Of eternal mockery and despair.

His choice to become better doesn’t truly change anything, neither does it undo his wrongs but Endeavour’s choice to try wasn’t intended to be a gloss over or a redo for his past actions, but rather another form of mockery to his persistent efforts to achieve something he had long lost. It becomes a cycle of trying and failing. Endeavour’s character is rooted in failure because that is what he sees himself as. His very name is a mockery to his existence, endeavour “to try hard to do or achieve something.”

Endeavour’s efforts to make reparations for his wrongs is not atonement for his character, it is another mocking act of failure he carries forward in this vicious cycle for he is never truly able to atone, not to himself, not to his children.

[traumatizedjaguar]

COLLECTIVE CONSCIOUSNESS Master-post: I want to make this explaining what knowledge God has given me over the years

COLLECTIVE CONSCIOUSNESS

Who are we and where do we come from? Is there purpose to our lives? Who is God?

God is the singular source of everything in creation including us. He is also called Love, Joy, Source and we can always go back into Him. God is consciousness, thought... and He created us in His image, we are consciousness and thoughts and intentions are creation and are more important than actions because of that reason; we all collectively decided to use our intentions to simulate the physical universe we live in.

The Big Bang of the physical reality in our 3D world is all imagination, intention, thought essentially.

Life is just a dream within a dream within a dream. When you die, it's like waking up from having a vivid dream last night. You become more lively, awake, real because you gain back what senses you left behind for awhile.

We live in the illusion of physicality, time, death, mortality, and duality.

We are demigods. Our true nature is the soul, a free-floating immortal consciousness that is the light made up of vibrations which we are all gods of our own making with our own individual personalities. We are immortal, can't feel pain as it's an illusion under our control, omnipotent, omnibenevolent, omniscient. That's what a "higher self" is when evidential psychic mediums refer to that. We are the light and pure eternal consciousness, we are light-beings. Dying is safe and death itself is safe.

Time is an illusion, it doesn't truly exist. You could go back to this lifetime as you now again if you wanted to and restart it (but no god does that as there is nothing to be gained especially if abuse occurred you'd rather not obviously). You can slow things down, speed things up, or just do something and have it happen like with the snap of a finger; with a single intention you could make something happen immediately.

Duality and death are illusions. Grief is a temporary thing as they never really died. The human side of us delved too far gone into resentment and envy, jealousy, anger, hatred, fear, disconnection, lack of empathies, despair. Holding onto anger doesn't bring peace; you come from oneness as Love is connection so you have to pick between revenge or being pro-recovery because you cannot have both, you pick between growth or the cycle of abuse because you cannot have both. This is basic science psychology, we learn this in therapy even. What God taught me is that hexing or acting on bad intentions or bad actions toward another (even if its "deserved" or at an abuser) you are depleting and killing Mother Earths vibrations which effect how She functions, it traumatizes more than your target and hurts you in return because you reap what you sow and everybody gets a life review. Studies show that protestors that focus on revenge instead of compassion for their group end up hurting their side much more than helping which shows you cannot be duel in this. Pick peace, joy, happiness and compassion and more rights for your vulnerable community OR you can pick destruction on both sides and less human rights.

It is a never-ending cycle of reawakening ourselves every lifetime and learning how to bring forth our godliness while in a human vessel, learning how to love in a low vibrational realm, and we're here because we're groomed to become gods. We bring back knowledge and experience from the physical. We want to love in a different way because we have physical body parts to do things with. In heaven souls hug by absorbing their consciousness into another and becoming one. You can also make "physical" things in your own way and stories, you can do essentially anything you want because you are a god (of many). Especially in certain dimensions or realms you can socialize with other souls who want what you want. Oneness and connection is what Love is.

You can go back to any lifetime, any "new" one, any reality, any dimension or God/Source anytime you want. It's like a sandbox, open world gameplay we're all in. Life is like a play, a movie, a video game... where you choose your planet, your character, sometimes attributes you want to be born with like making a sim or rolling the dice on it, you level up by vibrating to higher dimensions and each dimension you unlock new abilities and superpowers such as bending energy, using the earths energy and material in new ways, consistent euphoria and joy, no need for sleep but enough energy, developing space craft thats sleek and fast, traversing the universe through space and time, and growing and learning in your journey as a god!

5th dimension is where heaven begins. (4th being time). Suffering and death are transcended, you lose all of the flaws that came with being a 3rd dimensional human like I said you unlock new levels then new abilities; you can see better and don't have a need for glasses, you would have your 5 senses plus many more and your senses differently. You can co-create with other gods because thats what we're wired for: co-creators, wanting to love and to be loved, free-will, peace and joy, creativity, education and knowledge, and play!

You can use the earths energy and materials to build and create differently in the 5th dimensional earth, it's like unlocking whole new levels or unlocking achievements in a video game. Every dimension is "physical" in its own way, a 5th dimensional creature would look like a ghost to us and could walk through walls and see through something solid to see what's inside.

We limit ourselves as humble gods do and come down here for challenges and the journey back to Source. So as long as you stay aligned with your True Self (the god side of you) then you will be able to accomplish all these things in life. Love = virtues = who we are.

Humans only see a small percentage of the color spectrum because we're limiting our godlike abilities down here for fun but back Home we can see the full spectrum of color again. You can only see ahead of you and in your peripheral vision while in a physical human vessel but back Home you can see 360 degrees at once and for a thousand miles, clear vision. Because you're just free-floating immortal consciousness, nothing is restraining you anymore. Obviously your senses go from 5 to 50.

"I must've forgot I'm a Demi-god. I always feel so blue, but im a Demi god" - Architects.

We create and build our character through free will and various lifetimes in the physical reality and on many planets, but we don't have to go to the physical 3D world on earth if we don't want to we can always stay in heaven or go anywhere else. We can link up with other souls and keep them as family in heaven or incarnate with them in stories of your own making; you can make stories in some of the highest realms of heaven or on earth or anywhere with no tragedy or cruelty or duality and because you're so at One with everyone it isn't hard to find many souls who just want the same thing as you.

You can build a whole script in higher dimensions (if you wanted to but you don't have to and life in the 3D is NOT scripted at all) choose to put the veil over your eyes and forget it and play out the story with other souls who consent to joining in on your love story. Going to the 3rd dimension on earth is like joining the marines, you're here for a purpose and it's to "fight" (human terms of duality) for Love to win; our purpose is to serve the world. We are here to serve each other, God doesn't need anything from us, He is Source and perfect and perfection doesn't NEED anything, let alone worship. WE need each other down here; virtues are what it's all about. The essence of our soul is our moral compass...

Tap into it and you will begin to feel the energy literally flowing around you, your relationships and social interactions become easy, gliding and at one with each other and you feel more peace. You will be able to be on the right path with the right people and passions, etc.

You are still your own individual god on your own journey just like millions of other gods and you can speak to the source God who created us anytime you want. Somebody recommended Suzanne Giesemann to me for meditation and she's got some good ones and this one is a real game changer.

"there’s magic in our bones, a north star in our soul that remembers our way home. there’s magic in our bones." - Body by Sleeping At Last

because of the simulated physical world we *NOT separated* but distanced ourselves from God (Love) and from each other by going into these vessels in 3D, which caused suffering to break out. If everyone on earth had a NDE we all would find world peace.

"All my worries were a waste of time, made the world so blurry I was going blind." - Caleb Shomo

The universe is made up of music and is built perfectly such as the fibonacci sequence seen everywhere. Every dimension vibrates at its own frequency. Dimensions are all in front of you, stacked on top of each other, essentially in and around you at all times. I believe there are 12 dimensions about but I will check with God or my higher self to see what they say.

We are omnipotent. If you believe you are limited or whatever you choose to believe about yourself you will make it that way. Believe you can and you will as human, you can do anything as a human that the soul can do - just believe like a child believing in a fantasy and you will make it or create it. We can do anything, anytime if you just believe. It's a simulation, remember, nothing is impossible.

Omniscience. In the afterlife there is shared knowledge among all souls with God meaning we're omniscient. instant communication because there is no physical vessel nor a mouth piece anymore. So when you have a thought, it's instantly shared and another souls response is shared instantly back. All our consciousness' are interconnected so I have instant and free access to your thoughts, intentions, lifetimes, etc.. There is no privacy because everything is interconnected (love) so we all share the same toys and space. There is no judgement as souls understand that judgment is an unintelligent response.

Omnipresence. You can be in multiple different places at once (time is an illusion), you are in about 14 or 15 different places right now simultaneously but you can focus your souls perspective - kind of like your souls "eyes" - (and therefore experiences) to a certain lifetime and character.

Norse gods

Yes they exist. Like Odin or Loki are real. You will find half truths and half lies online or in books about the Norse gods. And no don't delude yourself, Norse gods don't help with revenge as somebody around here thought they did, they're more intelligent than us that's why we go to them for answers or guidance instead of the other way around. They know better than to get involved in petty cat fights.

You get back what you put out... you reap what you sow... as above so below. It refers to the layered structure of the universe, (12 dimensions) that immaterial laws rule matter from above. There are laws of correspondence and interconnectedness, everything is always in correspondence. The realization between the macrocosm of the universe (above) and the microcosm of the individual (below). So, what happens in a higher plane of existence is interconnected (not separate) from the lower planes of existence (like us in the 3D); because love is connection and everything is connected, everyone and everything effects each other.

We are the universe. You are a god. you are omnipotent. You are capable of aligning your health (which includes vibrations and energy) back with the creation of all things. God is not doing this to mock you by saying "you have free will but you have to do as I say" that's catholicism and christianity, God created us out of Himself which is Love because He loves us and wants us to be healthy, individual, free, peaceful and joyful everyday.

And everything in the universe is made from merely just a thought, an intention to create, and everything you see is consciousness or apart of that consciousness. We live in a simulation we agreed to making. Physicality is an illusion like I've stated in the first paragraphs we can all help each other vibrate these bodies and planet into a new evolution; (I'll describe imagery) so instead of staying stagnant like in a cycle of abuse, a circular motion, because history repeats itself, we're primitive and still kill each other over land and oil like animals, human evolution has been in circular motion because we forgot the spiritual aspect which when we do we will sky rocket in a straight line out of that cycle. It's all imagination; we live in a dream within a dream. Separation is an illusion, we live in an interconnected energy grid or field that connects all things. Death is an illusion because energy never dies and our consciousness is energy. Time is an illusion because you are in control and can use it at your own will; you can slow it down, stop it, or make things happen at the snap of a finger because of mere intention or desire for something. You can bring back the experiences and knowledge from the 3D world of eating buffalo chicken wings and with simple want for it, it pops up in front of you immediately for you to enjoy... because everything is a simulation. You know how you can feel or taste things in a dream and its so good and realistic but when you wake up its as if it wasn't that good because it was all a dream? Well you feel that way up in heaven in the higher planes, its a thousand times better eating food in heavenly dimensions than down here because you're going back to all the abundance of more possibilities back Home (because in higher dimensions more possibilities open up). Duality is an illusion because its human nature and when you separate from this illusion of a vessel you're in now you leave behind being human (but can bring back knowledge of course) Oneness is the only thing left for Who We Are; living virtuously as you possibly can live.

WITCHCRAFT:Never hex anybody ever

When you are hexing someone you are affecting the entire energy grid that connects all things and everyone. It sends out shock waves of negative vibrations. It doesn't matter if you're hexing a child rapist or someone who just swore you off one day, you are negatively impacting yourself, the abuser, lowering the vibrations of the earth, and everyone in the energy grid is affected.

When we are murdering the earth, more storms erupt, and we are killing a part of our consciousness.

Lateral damage is not just with protestors but also for hexing or any revenge will cause lateral damage.

"Don't practice what you don't want to become."

Is there a hell?

Short answer:

No.

Longer answer is this:

We get life reviews with God back Home where we have to relive this lifetime through everyones else's eyes whom we interacted with here.

Every time you hurt someone intentionally, unintentionally or lacking self-awareness about it or made someone feel joy you will relive it from their POV, their emotions, their eyes, their consciousness. You literally become them. It's a self-punishment if you lived a life being a selfish mean person. If you get revenge on someone you will also have to relive the pain you caused them because revenge is always wrong as He told me. If you hurt someones feeling in a minor way you relive it as them and if hurt them in a significant way you relive it.

Nobody deserves punishment, let alone abuse.

Being able to see things from a higher self POV helps me be more empathetic and learn that I want what's best for my abusers and for myself.

Last thoughts

You are a god and in control of your reality by mere thoughts, intentions and simply changing perspectives.

The world is a strange and confusing place to live in and I can see why atheism is so appealing to people I mean I was an atheist for so many years growing up throughout mostly my teens. It's a selfish belief system that wraps things up so conveniently like christianity does too.

Being an atheist means you don't believe in yourself.

Use the heart for discernment.

Videos I found to be cool and get you in the mood:

Timelapse of the entire universe

Zoom out from earth by nelsking26 has a cooler song

also mental health related things about thoughts vs event severity

[gojuo]

Are you the strongest because you are gojo satoru or are you gojo saturo because you are the strongest? I never understood why geto said that to gojo, can you explain to me? Did he want to give gojo a reality check?

Actually, he wanted to give Gojo an identity crisis lmao. In other words, what Geto's saying is that: Are you you? ("Are you the strongest because you are Gojo Satoru?") Or are you letting your strength define your sense of self? ("Are you Gojo Satoru because you are the strongest?").

In that moment, Geto was completely defeated/resigned/pessimistic (I can't find the right word arghggg) because he realized that what he wanted to achieve, he never could. But Gojo totally could because in the year between Riko's death and that moment, he had surpassed anyone and everything, and had become — for a lack of a better term — an untouchable god (Infinity automatically on at all times; RCT & RCT: Red; Hollow Purple; Domain Expansion mastered; in the process of mastering brain healing 24/7; etc.).

What Toji did to Gojo was turn him from The Strongest to Stronger Than The Strongest (omgggg romance <3 Tojigo agenda never ends). Essentially, Gojo had become far stronger than Geto, a fellow Special Grade and part of "The Strongest Duo", was and had risen up to be in a league completely on his own. This event in his life + Geto going rogue gave way to the worsening of Gojo's identity crisis.

That identity crisis I'm talking about is Gojo's lifelong status as "The Strongest" and his role in Jujutsu Society from the second he was born.

"The curses' increasing strength... At that moment, I understood the reason why! It's because of him! It's because of Satoru Gojo!! It's like when a seemingly unbeatable track-and-field record gets broken! Or when figure skaters suddenly have to add more spins to their jumps due to a single athlete's prowess!! When Satoru Gojo was born... the balance of the world was altered!"

From the second Gojo was born, he was not allowed to be Gojo Satoru (himself; "Are you the strongest because you are Gojo Satoru?"). He was pushed into a role by his birth family, his clan, other clans, and the entirety of Jujutsu society. Gojo was never just Satoru, the child, or Satoru, the person. From birth on, he was the Six Eyes, the Limitless ("Are you Gojo Satoru because you are the strongest?"). The bounty on his head was already over a hundred thousand before he turned 10 years old.

When Satoru Gojo was born, the balance of the world was altered.

This meant that he was raised as The Strongest, a role not only pushed onto him by the society and family he was born into, but by fate itself (the Tengen affair — remember that the Six Eyes is connected to Tengen and the Star Plasma Vessels through fate. A fate broken by the only one who lives outside of it: Toji Zen'in the man with absolutely no cursed energy at all. TOJIGO AGENDA NEVER ENDS GRAAAAAAAHHH)

Being raised as a thing instead of a person would lead any child to an identity crisis. He says it himself in ch. 236

He feels like nobody truly understands him, because there is nobody on his level of being. Nobody can stand beside him because of the disparity in strength between him and everybody else. He feels like he can't ever let anybody inside. He feels this way because Gojo defines his own sense of self — his identity and his own existence — through the strength he holds ("Are you Gojo Satoru because you are the strongest?"). Because he was raised to think like that. Because he was pushed into the role of "The Strongest" by fate, his family, all of society before he was able to define himself as just himself.

Gojo going to Jujutsu High in his teens would have been the first time he actually spent meaningful time with people who live outside of rigid clan society and culture. Geto, Shoko, Nanami and Haibara, none of them are from clans, so none of them would have treated him as if he were the Six Eyes and the Limitless first, human second. They would have treated him as just Gojo Satoru, their classmate in high school. Like a normal person. His belief system would have been challenged for the first time since his identity wouldn't be characterized by how strong he is, by his role as The Strongest in Jujutsu society. He'd just be another kid to his classmates.

Now that doesn't mean that his issues with his identity and Jujutsu society's dogma he was force-fed since birth were all fixed and everything was dandy, it just means that that line from Geto and his betrayal worsened what was already there and continuously reinforced and reaffirmed by Jujutsu society's penchant in making him a pariah (Nanami participated in this after Haibara's death btw, "Can't we just leave everything to him from now on?").

Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?

Geto asked this because he was angry at the world, defeated by it, and hurt by what Gojo had just said to him.

Because the thing is... Gojo is totally capable of killing all of humanity and creating a world only made up of only sorcerers. Gojo is The Strongest. Far stronger than Geto is. In the year between Riko's death and this moment, Gojo had far surpassed Geto in strength. The Strongest Duo — something that was a double-edged sword since it reaffirmed Gojo's belief that the measure of one's strength and prowess defines one's sense of identity BECAUSE there is now another Special Grade that is as strong as him, on the same level as him, therefore feeding into his confirmation bias — was no more. Gojo achieved enlightenment, Geto did not. Therefore, he was upset by Gojo saying that Geto wanting to create a world with only sorcerers was meaningless and impossible. And so Geto hit him where it hurt: Are you Gojo Satoru? Or are you just the role assigned to you?

Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru? Are you your own person?

Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest? Or are you just a thing? A thing called The Strongest?

The second Gojo was born, he was dehumanized. Not just by his family, not just by Jujutsu society, but by the world itself. He was born into a world that adjudged him to be a thing — in his own words: an adored flower standing far above humanity and therefore untouchable in every sense of the way — not a person, an actual human being with his own identity. His time in high school, where he lived and existed outside of the confines of clan culture for a short period of time, was probably the first time in his life where he felt human. There were kids his age who weren't raised in clans, who weren't fed Jujutsu dogma from the second they started breathing, who didn't know him as The Strongest. He was just a fellow kid. And there was Geto, who was a Special Grade just like him, someone that Gojo would have categorized to be the same as him and who he would have projected his uncertainty about his own identity onto as well (because of his confirmation bias).

And then Toji comes along and changes his life forever. It's so ironic (and also the biggest reason why I love this ship so much), the one and only person who lives outside of the confines of fate (zero cursed energy) destroys and redefines the one person who came into existence precisely because of said fate (the Six Eyes is born because fate calls for them to be born in order to help Tengen with the merger). Gojo dies and comes back to life enlightened. All because "a monkey who couldn't even use Jujutsu" killed him. The poetry of it all, my god....

Okay anyways I'm getting distracted (Tojigo agenda never ends) what I'm trying to say is that Geto went through a complete different experience than Gojo did, and got left behind basically. While Gojo grew stronger and stronger (not necessarily a good thing for him), Geto went off the deep end and stayed stagnant on the powerscale.

This happening to Geto leads to his betrayal + him asking that question which in turn led to the worsening of Gojo's identity crisis. Because Gojo chose to define himself through the strength he holds and not through being his own person. And that belief only got reaffirmed more and more because Gojo truly became untouchable, truly reached enlightenment and lived on a plane not a single person could reach, not even the other person who was also called "The Strongest". So when Geto asked him, "Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?" he's asking, who are you really? Are you a person who happens to be the Strongest also? Or are you The Strongest, and nothing else?

Gojo, throughout his entire life up until that point, was raised to be and treated by everyone as the latter. During high school and his time together with another "The Strongest" around, he found a taste of humanity within his own self. Geto then goes rogue and asks this question, and Gojo decides that yes indeed, he is the latter. He validates his own dehumanization through making that choice.

And what's awful about this is that, he didn't need to do allat. He didn't need to isolate himself, he didn't need to decide that no one would or could understand him, nor did he need to resign himself to the role of "adored flower" that was pushed onto him since birth. Why? Well, Shoko says it best here in ch. 220:

Gojo made the choice to let his sense of self be defined by his status as The Strongest ("Or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?"), when that shit wasn't needed at all. But as a child, when all the people that surround you, the people who gave birth to you, the people who raised you all parrot the same shitty idea that he is The Strongest The Strongest the strongest the strongestthestrongestthestrongestthestrongestthestrongest, and then that kid escapes to high school where he has a few years of being allowed to be a normal teenager and then his BFF decides to become Jujutsu Hitler and throw that The Strongest crap back into his face right where it hurts? Well, what did anyone expect? It's just fucking sad.

And that's also the reason why I hated his death and the conclusion to his character, because Gojo dying without ever getting over being "The Strongest" while he was alive means that his character stayed stagnant throughout the entire story. And I cannot explain to you enough how much I hate that. But that's a topic for another time, so I'm ending this analysis that got way longer than I intended here. I hope this helped you understand that scene better ♥

[skekdris]

A piece commissioned from SkekLa: https://www.deviantart.com/skekla Ever since I saw SkekLa's art of the skeksis, (especially the youthful ones in their prime), I've always wanted a skeksona. And knowing my tastes, a very corpulent one ^^.

Though SkekDris cares about his personal fitness a fair degree more than other skeksis, (which most of them honestly) he still loves to flaunt around his heft. SkekDris, though a secretive hermit and scholar, adores having guests over for tea, indulging in exotic substances, and if one is so inclined - a night in his bed chamber. Though not to the self-destructive degree of other skeksis, hedonism is a core part of their being that can never truly be erased. Rather than try and fight it completely (which is an impossible task that ends in despair) or losing themselves entirely to their vices like the others, Skekdris has managed to find the fine line of control. Much like a sea captain; Rather than fight the current, they learn and understand it to use it in their travels without being subject to the whims of the sea.

Pictured left, is one of his servants. One of the emaciates mentioned in my previous lore post. In short, they are skeksis (or beings transformed into a skeksis-like vessel) that seem unhealthily thin - save for their protruding paunches - and yet seem just as fit as an ordinary person, perhaps even a moderately athletic one. Through dark rituals and deals, these emaciates are granted magical sustenance, vitality, and even extraordinary senses... at the cost of their vision.

In this matter for the first and current servant, SkekZur, they were already blind. These two characters sort of exist in my own setting/vacuum, but if were to fit them into in the dark crystal setting, I'd see it that SkekDris was likely exiled for bucking a lot of skeksis social norms - as well as him being a skilled magic user causing him to be seen as a political threat. SkekZur being blind made him a target of vicious bullying. Partaking in a ritual that was 'free' for him and secluding himself from the petty squabbles of the castle was an easy contract in his mind. Thus, though a bound servant, SkekZur is eager to serve. He has since worn a leather mask across his beak - as do all future emaciates - symbolizing their blind devotion. Though be warned, though they are blind, they quite sharp and remarkably independent when contrasted with other servants. SkekDris has learned many a pretty secret from those whom paid them too little mind...

[just-a-silly-little-whumper]

Light

Masterpost | Read on Ao3

After more than two years and 125,000 words, I can't believe it's over! This story and these characters have meant so much to me. Thank you so much to everyone who's joined me on this journey! I hope you all have enjoyed it as much as I have. And thank you so much to my friend @that-one-thespian for beta'ing this for me!

From shadow, light.

Contains: Soul bonds, queerplatonic love, despair and hope, escape

~~~

Once again, he found himself enveloped by darkness.

Somehow, it was different this time. To say that he felt no warmth wouldn’t be wrong, per se, but it also would have been a fundamental misrepresentation of his reality. The chill permeated his very being, so deep he was certain it would never leave him, and yet he had no sense of temperature, no grasp of the warmth which he lacked. Before, he had wondered if he still had a physical form; now he knew he did not, as certain as he was that the stars would shine or that death would follow life or that he loved Altair.There was no light to cast shadows, and yet the shadows consumed him, dragging him down into a depths that could not exist because there was no direction, no below or above or further or away.

It didn’t hurt. He didn’t think he could hurt, in whatever half-existence he found himself in. And yet pain was the closest memory to which he could compare this howling void, this absolute emptiness that was now all he knew.

There was nothing. Nothing and no one.

And yet he wasn’t alone. Someone else was there, embracing him, cradling him, pulling him down, down, down into the fathomless dark.

And that was wrong. His thoughts, his memories, his sense of self were slipping away like water through his fingers, but he knew that he’d rather spend eternity alone than be intertwined with this other being. Their desire, their envy, their hunger surrounded him, dug claws into his soul and tore it open to bask in the tattered remains, to feast until there was truly nothing left.

Did this hurt? He couldn’t tell. He knew for sure he didn’t want it, wanted to escape the covetous grasp of the dark, ravenous entity exalting him.

But where could he go?

He was nowhere. He was no one. And there was nothing he could do.

“-ith?”

The voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear it, and yet so loud in the silence he couldn’t have missed it. Sudden inexplicable hope overflowed from the depths of his soul, deep enough to have been untouched, unmarred, unbroken. Though he couldn’t move in this not-space, he twisted towards the sound, praying. A moment later and an eternity later, he found it; a spot of light, distant but growing ever brighter, almost blinding but yet soothing, tender, warm.

“-ze’ith?”

The claws in his soul tightened their grip as a wave of fury-indignity-denial threatened to drown him. Were it not for the light in the distance, the source of the growing hope in his own soul, he very well might have, so potent was the force of the other’s emotion to make him forget it was not his own. But his hope was enough to beat it back, to maintain himself even through the torrent threatening to fill the empty vessel he was being fashioned into.

Nothing could stop Elze’ith’s heart from seeing Altair and knowing hope.

“Elze’ith!”

The light in the distance began to take shape— large golden wings shining with the brilliance of the sun; a gentle, smiling face with eyes full of bright, impossible conviction; an arm outstretched, beckoning. The closer Altair grew, the more the being alongside Elze’ith recoiled, shrieking and writhing but unable to keep its grip. And as he basked in that light, with the renewed faith in his own soul, Elze’ith was able to summon the strength to at long last shake off his tormentor.

Darkness still surrounded him. But above him, there was light. And that light was offering to lead him home.

“I’m here!”

Elze’ith took Altair’s hand. Altair’s grin was resplendent. The darkness fell away.

---

Neither of them were in much condition to walk; exhaustion and starvation and months of atrophy left their muscles feeble and unsteady. But the thought of staying in that accursed castle for a moment longer than necessary was untenable to both of them. Luckily, they had each other to lean on as they made their slow way to the doors of Castle Tergoria.

Each step was a marathon, every breath labored and wavering. After everything they had endured, these last few steps were somehow one of the most difficult challenges. But finally, finally, the doors to the castle gave way.

The first thing Altair felt was the soft breeze, threading its careful fingers through his feathers and inviting him further. That alone made his breath catch; fresh air, the promise of the horizon, something he feared he might never see again. But then warmth hit his skin, and he stopped breathing altogether.

It was almost noon, it seemed. The sun was high above them, meandering across a clear blue sky, radiating pleasant rays of sunshine down upon the mountainside below. After so long in the dark, the brilliance almost hurt to look at, and yet Altair couldn’t bear to turn away from the gentle, revitalizing light. All he could do was stare, breathless, completely in awe.

How could he have gone so long without this?

Small tremors from Elze’ith almost sent him into a panic before he looked to see his partner’s face. Elze’ith’s expression was overcome with joy, and grief, and a thousand other things, but above all relief. He was weeping, the sunlight glinting off his tears, and he was smiling as he did.

And, well. That was enough to make Altair cry, too. They had come so far and endured so much, and now it was finally over.

They were free.

He pulled Elze’ith closer. Wrapped a wing around him. And together, in the midday sun, they finally found their deliverance.

[astrxlfinale]

HC; Matter of the (tangible) soul.

Taking this as my own personal interpretation of how Caelus is ultimately built as an individual. Many within the circle of those that know considers him merely a host of the Stellaron. The matters involving the calamitous star are being discovered as things are charted along, but that isn't quite it.

As it stands, Caelus is a soul that exists on the material plane, and not by the natural principles of souls that dwell within their respective bodies. The key in itself is the anomaly factor known as the Stellaron, and in fact, he is the very Stellaron in question. The past before his revival had inevitably led to this unique circumstance, how his very being was transformed. After reclaiming his humanity, the new facet is the awareness to take into account, how his body that was once artificial isn't any longer.

Underneath Caelus's will, the vessel began became real flesh and blood body, taking into account the certainty his soul has in terms of identity. It doesn't change however that the rules of his existence are muddled up, nor does it change that due to being a hybrid of humanity and Stellaron, there's also particulars he needs to take into account.

For one, after once being part of a grand collective that thrives for the essence of humanity, the potential, what they can create, his new existence leaves an inner emptiness that can never be appropriately scratched. Frustrated nights, times that felt too cold, that inexplicable discomfort of being torn from the collective that live for human potential. The Fragmentum, the vicinity and people in which that volatile power decides to nest, ironically, it's within this very scale of peril does such a situation shift. It answers to the instincts, a phantom call of what he is. This is what creates those instances where he can UNDERSTAND the entities of Information, residual soul and presence left within those zones.

It leads to that sensation of being away from 'home' being difficult to truly put into words. Being disconnected led to his own course and choice to be wholly solidified, but any phantom pains derived from this will remain as the price, the sort he's proactively working to counter.

No different than humanity, the essence of Stellaron thrives upon connections with the living, whether through relationships, their creations, experience. It falls exactly in line with Caelus's character to begin with, and in kind, this is where the spirit of the Trailblaze serves as an equalizer. It's the course a Stellaron partakes in without trying to birth heirs of calamity.

I'd also like to add that when this equilibrium becomes disturbed, there's a few unique (monstrous) attributes that his form can begin forming, a price for his lack of mastery. (That and/or powerful emotion ill prepared for the potential it brings.)

tl;dr: He's a Human/Stellaron Hybrid. His soul is the Stellaron now, and this in itself lends to his unique journey of self.

[morbidgvtz]

vent 01

and , in looking at me , and seeing myself , i will feel proud -- not because of societal conventions of beauty . that has nothing to do with it . but , rather, with the same pride of an artist who gazes at a painting of his own . this vessel is the canvas -- i am a morbid artist , and i shall paint it with the thoughts that fill my head , because what else could i paint with ?

i got triggered today .

it was after i binged . i don ' t know how to explain the latter aside from blaming it on simple habit . no , something more than habit -- it ' s an addiction . i ' m addicted to the numbness that food gives me . it ' s not a logical thing ; so i won ' t fight it with logic . i treat myself like an animal , as i ' m acting only on instinct , i pretend to be in a locked room and shake my head roughly whenever i think of leaving , until the thought leaves my head . this is what i must do . i shake my head roughly whenever i have the chance , until i remember nothing except the cold that grips my chest .

i must fall . when i was triggered today , i was reminded of those i hate . it makes me think , what if i fell inside myself ? to be locked away , and perhaps never return . better , safer , than falling into the arms of someone else , even the arms of someone who never existed . i ' m so sick of it . sick of pleasing others who have never and don ' t and could never have cared about me in the slightest . there ' s no point if i will not be rewarded for it . the voices in my head tell me otherwise , but in a way , they are like viruses , acting in ways that will continue what they have been taught to do , no room for adaption .

self -- look around . no one will reward you for pleasing those who are not there . i know that ' s hard to believe . i know every instinct tells you otherwise . but look at the evidence : you are alone .

you are alone in every way that matters .

so think . think . imagine to be in a locked room , locked inside with only yourself . how can you make it bearable ? for that is the place you are in . you are locked inside with only yourself . pretending to be happy only goes so far , and does nothing to touch the pain and hatred coiling in your core . you have to stop pretending to be happy . you have to stop suppressing your emotions .

but you must have a way to deal with those emotions once the chains are unlocked . otherwise , the pain will overwhelm you completely .

others say that i am foolish . that i am vain , and self - centered . they don ' t see the darkness coiling inside me in the way that i do , and thus , can have no hope of understanding . i have been hurt , very , very badly . i have been hurt , and the wound has no hope of healing unless it is exposed to the air . it is being smothered .

something i said a while ago , is that ' i wish to look like i am dying because that is how i shall look like myself . ' i think that at the time , i didn ' t fully understand the implications of my words , how truly they resonated . i see it now with crystal clarity . i am dying . the fact that this vessel bears no wounds , has no ties to the fact that my very soul has been fractured , and continues to split apart more and more .

i need to allow this wound to be open to the air , or the infection will undoubtedly spread from my core to the tips of my fingers , my every extremity . what i ' ve found hard to understand , but that i understand now , is that i am already wounded . the wound is inside me , poisoning my every breath . it may not be expressed through the surface level of this vessel at present , but if the wound is allowed to fester , that will soon change . i am told that i look fine , healthy . that is inane . if i am to soon be nothing but a brutalized carcass , i will not look healthy . i will look dead , because i would be . but it would be because of the same poison that has been eating away at my core this entire time , finally spreading to that surface level .

by the time one can see my pain to that extent , it will be far too late for me .

that is why i need to 5t4rve myself . no , not so others can see my pain . that hope is ridiculous . my pain will never be seen by others to the extent that it is clear to me . but so i can

express

my pain , through this vessel , and thus , take a bit of the edge off . i wish to look like i ' m about to die , because that is how i shall look like myself . and , in looking at me , and seeing myself , i will feel proud -- not because of societal conventions of beauty . that has nothing to do with it . but , rather, with the same pride of an artist who gazes at a painting of his own . this vessel is the canvas -- i am a morbid artist , and i shall paint it with the thoughts that fill my head , because what else could i paint with ?