#the magic circle is like universe coded

[the3rddenialist]

Celestial AU I guess*

*aka I took Sun and Moon symbolism and went nuts

help

[fairiesreturningtotheshadows]

Harry Price (1881-1948) was a British psychic and a paranormal researcher whose reputation reached extraordinary peaks because of his passion for unmasking fraud.

Already in his adolescence he was interested in the affairs of the beyond, and wrote a theatrical work on a case of Poltergeist in a Shropshire farm, England [see: the 8 phases of the polytergeist activity]. In a few years, the interest of public opinion attracted thanks to a very curious discovery, space telegraphy [Space-Telegraph], something like a primal wireless communication that theoretically worked perfectly, but when it was tried to put it into practice it was a failure. In his autobiography: Search for truth (Search for Truth), Harry Price states that the experiment was not entirely negative, since it served to prove that his idea did not work at all. Around 1908 he was interested in archeology, quite successful, since he managed to get several Roman currencies, axes and utensillos in the Sussex region, whose authenticity was confirmed by the antiquarium society [Society of Antiquaries]. But what really interested Harry Price were the paranormal phenomena, and there he directed his efforts since then.

For his arduous work as an unmasking of prodigies [who concealed his desire to find genuine wonders] he began his studies in occultism. In 1922 he joined the Magic Circle [Magic Circle], with a net esoteric cut, and then got fully into the study of traditional magic and prestidigitation. With these weapons he launched ghosts and fraudulent mediums.

He obtained his first success as a paranormal researcher at the end of 1922, when he was photographed by William Hope next to a spirit [see above]. The strange thing is not due to photography, but to the previous agreement between Harry Price and the Spirit, in which the latter promised to pose for the photo.

In 1923 Harry Price made a formal request to the University of London to create a psychic research department. The institution responded favorably, and Harry Price headed the working group [although without belonging to the Academic Staff], which would finally absorb the departments of the National Laboratory of Psychic Studies [National Laboratory of Psychical Research]. Harry Price, the famous ghost hunter, and Harry Houdini, skillful unmasking of fraudulent wonders, attests to spiritualist sessions where the diners had to make great physical efforts so as not to be evicted from their seats by the sudden movements of the speakers (see: when something invisible touches you)

William Hope, the Paranormal photographer, denounces that the speakers are animated by an invisible and undoubtedly intelligent force, with which it is possible to establish a communication code to talk with her (see: something called me by my name)

For example, a blow means yes and two strokes no (see: a blow: "Yes"; two blows: "no"; three blows: "Let me enter"). There were also random combinations that required the fine interpretation of exegetes that alluded to perfectly natural emissions and sound polyuses in a closed enclosure.

Daniel Dunglas Home, the great levitator of his time, witnessed paranormal phenomena of incredible size, such as the total levitation of the table and its diners. Others denounce light, phosphorescent appearances, invisible and lvid hands that pinch the ladies, wind bursts, objects that materialized and even the appearance of ectoplasm from different medium holes (see: what are the spirits made?)

Most of the charlatans of the time attribute these paranormal phenomena to the activity of triggered entities. A rationalist minority suspects the presence of unknown psychic, individual or group forces, acting in unison on the table (see: spirits and "charged environments"))

Already at the end of the 19th century there was a true fever around the speakers, which in honor of the truth did little justice in their name, since they rarely spoke.

The spiritualist Allan Kardec was perhaps the first to establish an orderly communication code, for which he managed to record messages of deep skepticism even in probably dead people. To know something more about this code we recommend reading his work The Book of Spirits (Le Liv re des Spiro).

There is no culture in the world that has been safe from the undesirable presence of the dead that rise from their graves to feed with the blood of the living. This allows us to reason that nigromance: the art of invoking the dead and returning them to life, or non -death, rather, was a rather lucrative trade.

In the first place, naturally, the body should be exhumed. He was later beheaded and one of his feet was amputated. Finally, the pi

El espejo gotico blogger

[mercury-and-scry]

all my 2025 refs for my ocs I would consider "active"! I post a lot of original designs on here but these are the ones I continue to work on and develope actively. a "quick" and dirty guide under the cut ;)

if you have a favourite, ur legally obliged to tell me so I dont do anything drastic.

VINDICT: a half-qunari Antivan Crow and mage who specialises in ice magic. She's based on the Dragon Age universe (specifically the Veilguard era). She's not very friendly but extremely ambitious and strategic, and craves leadership and authority. EDDIE: a DND character based on my DM's home-brewed urban fantasy setting. She's a human warlock adopted into a tiefling sorcerer family, and has a bit of an inferiority complex but dreams of being a great magic user and adventurer. Her squid-like patron is named "Blitz".

ALASTAIR LOVELYN: a tiefling fighter who's lovely and friendly but really not that bright. They're very optimistic and enjoy the little things in life, which is probably cope for the massive life threatening curse they've been carrying around their entire life.

DEANGELO: an aasimir paladin who grew up in a very toxic and abusive church environment, where he was used as a figurehead and enforcer. he eventually escaped after meeting the love of his life, though. his wings are disabled, by surgery, so he can't fly.

EBONY: my current DND pc, a half elf druid from the circle of spores. she deals with a plethora of internal struggles, mostly depression and alcoholism, but has a strong loving core and does not suffer fools. She's also insanely strong atp in the campaign. Her familiar is named Theo. TETSUO: a DND character sort of designed for a more modern or even dystopian setting. He's a cleric of the forge with cybernetic enhancements, which accomodate for the amputation of his limbs but severely limit his ability to feel and understand emotions. Still, he does his best to raise an adopted son. MASK: a tiefling (potentially half tiefling) bard who is sort of based on fairytales. Mask has a history of egotism and vanity, but after mocking a trio of hags and turning them away from hospitality, was cursed with a hideous haglike form of their own (not seen here but in their individual post lol), which they can unintentionally slip in and out of. WILLOMINA: a summer eladrin fighter who, in a contract gone awry, was accidentally sealed away in a stone tomb for over a century. this has left her with social anxiety and an extremely outdated vocabulary, but she maintains her chivalric moral code and empathy for all people.

[hnwd]

Azaquiel 2025 Sheet ✨

Backstory below ⬇️

(Had to use a translator for the text sorry for any mistakes)

Pre-Arc.

Azaquiel's origins come from Shinetale*, in this universe of angels and demons, the entity that called itself Azaquiel, guardian of the Orb*, he had reigned, seen thousands of lives, the sight of destruction he had within his grasp had left him. The circle of war between demons and angels was nothing more than a child's quarrel in his eyes. He had already seen everything in this world and was the equal of a god, he who advocated balance. He would have grown tired of this role, one day a crazy idea came to him: what if there were other universes?

Why would they be the only ones? If an entity had indeed created them, there must be other creations, even other creators. Thus came to him the plan to leave this world, this identity, and this life, even if it meant losing everything.

He finally succeeded by using the Orb to create a rift that ruptured the fabric of his universe, just brief enough for his passage. To pass, he had reduced himself to the simplest state of energy, a soul, leaving a closed multiverse*. Crossing the Nexus* as a new anomaly, his soul eventually re-entered a new multiverse, and his soul slipped into the code of a universe guided by a spirit* caring for wandering souls, allowing him to insert himself into a life cycle, but his simple existence had already been detected before his rebirth.

Arc 1

Azaquiel was born on a floating island; his new existence as a Unicorn* had barely begun before he felt the terror of death weigh on his frail body. In one exception, Azaquiel was born with a twin, and their litter had exhausted their mother to the point where she was unable to transfer the magic necessary to satisfy their newborn hunger. In such cases, it was normal for the two foals to kill each other to regain the energy needed to survive. However, Azaquiel was the weaker foal, and even more paralyzed by his dark twin. His life was destined to end abruptly. Yet, the firstborn turned away from him and turned toward their mother's body.

He saw it absorb the remaining energy of the being that had given them life as if it didn't matter to him. As his eyes were absorbed by the scene, a shifting air current, a strange smell, the others in the herd raised their heads toward him. Not toward him, behind him, as his brother turned his nose in his direction, Azaquiel felt hands lift his body and pull him into a portal that closed instantly. His body trembling, he raised his nose toward a strange skeleton with a cruel smile.

"❄︎♏︎ ❖︎□︎♓︎●︎◻︎ ♏︎■︎♐︎♓︎■︎"

He didn't yet know that he had just become the perfect exception for an obsessive entity.

Unfortunately, or rather with frustrating satisfaction, EchO* noticed that the soul was irrecoverable, rendered nonexistent since this soul didn't possess one. But this provided the opportunity for a new possibility of transformation.

Azaquiel found himself tied up for the first part of his life as a lab rat. He couldn't even move, forced to stand like a doll with its joints locked. His mind was beginning to normalize this life, to be an object of testing and injection. This dull idea gradually changed when his code was trained to generate another body. The tests became less frequent, he was forced to walk with an unbalanced body, unable to assume his birth form, his true self. He was beginning to understand what the Gaster wanted. He was beginning to understand its words.

"Create something for me, Helvetica."

Helvetica

Who was Helvetica?

Why were her letters carved into the back of his neck?

He wasn't Helvetica.

He wasn't Sans.

He wasn't Human.

He wasn't Gaster.

He was Azaquiel.

That name was etched in his mind, the only trace of his old life. But for that life, a life that filled him with emptiness, it wasn't worth fighting for.

He had become docile; he no longer sought to escape, since he had never known freedom. But this idea was about to begin to take root in his mind when a child was thrown into the next cell. She described to him the outside world he had forgotten, she promised him he would live, or die, even if he had to try. Otherwise, he could stay here, within her walls, like a doll. The young colt finally mustered the determination to get out, and together they waited for the right moment. The moment when the OTHER wasn't there, the right moment.

When the elevator doors were about to close, and they were untied, the moment when Azaquiel was removed from the collar that prevented him from returning to his original form. They dashed off together, as Azaquiel reverted to his original form and the girl climbed onto his back. The doors closed right behind them, and his sidekick punched the highest button. After all, they were in a basement; the exit had to be the highest, right?

The doors finally opened in another burst. It wasn't a corridor, just a circular room with dark windows, and two scientists lunged at them.

Azaquiel instinctively lowered his head and his horn sank into the first scientist before he stepped back, letting his body fall. His legs trembled, and the second scientist was just as paralyzed by the scene. But Frisk shouted at him to take advantage of this opportunity. She pointed at a window, and Azaquiel woke up. He lunged forward, brandishing his horn, and they went through the window… And found themselves falling into the void.

The laboratory was built on a tower overlooking a colony city*. The air whipped his feathers as they fell. He woke when the human on his back pulled his wings with a scream to bring him back to consciousness. His young wings spread with desperate energy, but if he was old enough to fly, he wasn't old enough to carry someone while flying. Nevertheless, this allowed Azaquiel to partially glide to a neighborhood covered with stalls where they crashed.

Azaquiel found himself stunned by the shock; when he regained consciousness, it was to the shouts of merchants, no trace of the child with him. Considering these people just as dangerous as the one who had abducted them, he fled into a maze of alleys and remained hidden there. He realized that every time they came out in their natural form, they attracted attention, they attracted aggression, they were starting to get hungry, they had never hunted. All the energy they had received came directly from the laboratory.

Logically, he began to take this other form; no one was looking at them at that moment. We ignored him… It was perfect, naturally he began wandering for food. The adults were too strong, the other children were always watched. There were still people who wandered like him, those who were too sick, those who found themselves in dark alleys.

The first time wasn't so difficult, and he felt much better when his hunger subsided, but he quickly learned to hide after his hunts. The principle of murder was ridiculous to him; others had the right to kill for food, and so did he by the same logic. He wanted to live.

After a few months of wandering, he had a strange encounter. As he finished absorbing the soul of a homeless person into his birth form, he heard the rustling of clothes. Turning his head, he noticed the presence of an elemental child. The silence lasted a few moments before it growled, preparing to attack before hearing someone approaching. Azaquiel therefore decided to flee by flying across the rooftops.

This encounter remained in his mind, and a few days later, he returned to the alley. The body was no longer at rest, and many people had passed by, but the scent of the little one was more present than the others, showing that he had returned often. Azaquiel decided to wait for its next visit; after all, it would be easy prey, right?

He waited and waited, and after a few hours, he heard it. He bared his fangs, and yet the elemental remained, showing no fear and simply asked:

"Don't be afraid."

What a strange phrase! Wasn't he the one who should be afraid? The child took a step forward:

"My name is Lux…"

He took another step forward and was tackled by the foal, yet his flames remained calm. He repeated:

"Don't be afraid."

He was so calm that Azaquiel calmed down. He took his skeleton form, straddling the elemental, and asked curiously:

"You're not afraid?"

"Not too much."

"You're weird."

"You're the one who eats people, I should be the one saying that."

Azaquiel stepped back and Lux ​​stood up:

"So what's your name?"

_ I…"

Helvetica

_ Azaquiel…

_ Funny name… Why do you eat people?

_ Why do you eat meat?

_ Touché…

_ Why aren't you afraid?

_ Why are you so suspicious?

The two children judged each other. Azaquiel was now withdrawing, watching with clenched fists, and yet he… enjoyed this interaction.

Lux was elementary strange; he returned to the alley several times, and it became a sort of rendezvous between them when each was free. Little by little, Azaquiel began to become aware, to understand that young people shouldn't be killed, just as he hadn't wanted to be kidnapped. But he didn't have the strength to really choose his prey, unless he found a way to get some… he began to push deeper and deeper into the confines of Luxtalesw, the black neighborhoods, where there were only traffickers and thugs ruled by a growing mafia.

One could only imagine the henchman's surprise when a child asked to be part of the next clandestine arena*, because he was starving. But after all, why not?

It was just easy fodder, filling the arena with people who wouldn't have volunteered.

A bigger surprise came when the child survived after devouring some of the participants. After that, the henchman brought Azaquiel directly before the Boss.* Faced with the immense stature of the shark monster,

Azaquiel bared his fangs. Was he going to be locked up again?

While he was thinking of all the ways to escape, the Boss told him he was hired. The term went over his head, but the conditions were explained to him.

He was allowed to eat in the arenas, and from the people they gave him, but no more. He wouldn't be allowed to kill or talk about his organization. In exchange, he would be protected by the Family and receive a small portion of the winnings to start.

Money was something he didn't care about, but he understood that he would be able to feed himself, be housed, and clothed. That was enough for him; he simply asked for one thing: that the initials engraved in his neck be removed.

H.N.W.D

Unfortunately, since the engraving was too deep, he was given a tattoo instead, almost as deep in his bones as the engraving. Not a word passed the child's lips during the entire engraving, and he silently endured the pain like a branded animal.

Between two arenas, he returned to the alley to speak with Lux, but one day, Lux no longer came. It was almost logical for him to ask for someone to look for him. He had to ask several times, but in the end, he got the address. He paid a visit, startling the poor child in his room when he scratched at his window.

He then learned that Lux would no longer be able to come; he had to take care of the cafe, helping his father, whose health was beginning to fail.

With each visit, the situation seemed to get progressively darker. He understood that money was also at the heart of the problem.

He could earn the money, but he didn't use it. He didn't care about the sums that kept adding up, so he began participating in the arenas to accumulate money. It took him over a year, but he was so proud that night when he brought a card containing more money than he needed. But in the meantime, things had accelerated for Lux, and when Azaquiel came to see him, he had just lost his father, and he didn't know what to do. Lux rejected Azaquiel abruptly. His words were cruel, and the unicorn eventually left, leaving the card behind, but he never returned.

Instead, he continued in the arenas and slowly gained freedom of movement, of hunting, and of his money. He didn't realize how important he had become to the Boss. He was entering adolescence and their stories didn't interest him, so he ended up asking not to have to make arenas for them anymore. And he didn't question whether his request would be granted.

Instead, he began exploring the universes, using the coin* to move from one world to another. The years passed, and he became an adult who had learned to play with masks and emotions. He trusted no one, even those who were by his side, even Lux, who had finally crossed paths with him again. The elemental had tried to reconnect, to apologize, but Azaquiel remained unmoved. Sometimes he came to his bar, but it was more of a hunting ground.

And then one day, he met a Papyrus* passing through Luxtale. A flirtation, a little one-night stand he hadn't given much thought to, and yet a new encounter, a fortuitous fate, little by little, even though Azaquiel was charming, Papyrus managed to break through Azaquiel's defenses. It had taken years, years during which Azaquiel had finally given his full trust, he had even planned to propose.

But Papyrus's brother had sensed that something was wrong with Azaquiel, he had tried to warn his brother without success. So he had waited, he had looked for evidence, and he had contacted the right people.

It should have been a normal day, and yet everything changed. Azaquiel found himself arrested. As he struggled, he took his natural form to kill the guards… And he froze when he saw Papyrus's horrified expression.

In one second, he was bombarded with tranquilizer darts and lost consciousness, realizing he had been betrayed.

Locked in a cell specially designed for him, forced to assume his skeletal form and wear a muzzle like a common wild animal, his anger boiled over.

The last thing Azaquiel expected was to be freed, no, to be helped to escape, and especially not from a skeleton who, despite his unfamiliar face, recognized that scent immediately.

A scent he had only smelled once.

His brother.

Elceifer

As he tore off his bonds, dragging him with him, Azaquiel wondered how he had found him, how he had ended up with such a body.

Once he had escaped from the detention center, Elceifer offered to help him get revenge.

"Why?"

"Because you are my Mark."

It was a term Azaquiel would understand far too late.

Azaquiel had accepted revenge; he had returned to where he lived in the middle of the night.

He had slipped into the bedroom, climbed onto the bed, and even though the pain in his chest was excruciating, the anger faded when he saw his beloved sleeping.

And then he opened his eye sockets, staring at him first with surprise, then a mixture of pain and anger.

"If you want to kill me, do it quickly."

"Is that what you think of me?"

He didn't answer, closing his eye sockets. Azaquiel got out of bed.

"I would never hurt you."

Then he left the room through the open bay window and joined Elceifer perched on a nearby roof. An argument broke out between them. His brother wanted him to kill him, to get rid of him; if he didn't, he would do it himself. Neither wanted to give up; they eventually returned to their natural forms. Elceifer, unlike Azaquiel, was bigger, more powerful. It was clear that Azaquiel wouldn't win, and yet he tried. The two beasts began to fight, eventually ignoring their whereabouts, waking the neighborhood. The authorities were alerted when Elceifer at one point knocked Azaquiel down before flying toward the apartment, breaking the window with his wings spread out, swollen with rage.

Azaquiel appeared as his brother was about to charge, the two beasts rolled in a torrent of feathers and fur, shattering the walls and furniture. Azaquiel managed to pull Elceifer out of the apartment, forcing his brother to engage in a dogfight.

They were unaware of the arrival of the authorities, nor of the weapons pointed at them. Weapons specialized in eradicating the most vindictive species. The shot rang out, the bullet pierced Azaquiel's body with deadly precision. His body fell as Elceifer slowed his fall to the ground. He then threw himself at the one who had shot his younger brother, knowing full well it was the worst thing to do.

Azaquiel closed his eyes, hearing less and less, a slow, cold calm, as he felt his hunger subsiding. He barely felt hands grasp his snout, nor saw a call out to him; he simply sank into darkness as his body transformed into the worst magic and dispersed into the air. His soul was now waiting in a dark environment.

Arc 2 (Ongoing)

When Reaper arrived to reap him, Azaquiel regained consciousness, his unconsciousness having reverted to a skeleton. He looked at the outstretched hand in silence, before slowly raising his own. Before contact was made, there was a crackling sound. The reaper's expression deepened as he gripped his scythe.

"Cheater"

It was then that he realized his code was being reinserted; someone was bringing him back to life. He reached out to Reaper.

"No, wait, I-!"

It was too late; amidst a crackle of code, he disappeared and found himself in an alleyway.

He was back alive, several months after his death, which had passed in mere seconds with the god of death.

He realized that from the beginning, his freedom hadn't belonged to him. Echo had never lost him; he had simply let him have fun outside, but he still belonged to him.

He didn't know what to do anymore, he didn't know where to go, and yet instinctively, his steps took him to Lux's bar and restaurant. When the Elemental saw him walking through the door alive, he dropped the glass he was cleaning before rushing towards him. At first, Azaquiel tried to make fun of him, but Lux looked at him seriously.

"Tell me the truth."

Azaquiel broke down. He told him everything, and the whole time, Lux listened to him. The unicorn still couldn't come back, so for the first few days, he stayed at his place. Then he went back home, intending to finish this story, but the apartment was almost empty, full of boxes, natural dust, and the smell of Papyrus was slowly fading. He searched every box in his smallest hiding place, but he couldn't find the Coin. This surely meant that Papyrus had returned to his original world.

Azaquiel then began a troubled period of mourning, mourning for a life, mourning for his brother. He realized he had so completely rejected his natural form that he felt like he had two identities. This caused him many crises where he would ask Lux or his boss to re-emerge him until he calmed down. During these crises, he was nothing more than a raging beast struggling in a room covered in scratches and cracks.

Then there were other times when he no longer wanted to eat, no longer move, no longer fight, and yet this small circle of close friends was ready to help and vibrated whether he wanted it or not. During his periods of confinement, it was more often Lux who came to air out the apartment and take care of him. It was also he who pushed Azaquiel to move out, to leave all the furniture, to wipe the slate clean of the past.

In a new environment and with the support of those he hadn't trusted, Azaquiel slowly began to recover. He began going out again, and began hunting on his own. He occasionally visited arenas, and his situation improved; he often took the time to assume his natural form at home or outside the colony*.

He hadn't forgotten his revenge, though; he had received a Hate Arrow as a prize from one of the arenas. Since he couldn't access his Aus without the arrow, he simply hung it up at home for D-Day.

One day, like so many others, Azaquiel accidentally made his first portal. Brutally, he was sucked in with a violence that strained his bones, and found himself ejected with the same violence onto unfamiliar ground.

This world was his homeworld, and as he stood up, he saw two people staring at him curiously. It was hard to tell which was the demon and which was the angel. The woman smiled broadly.

"You're back? I can't believe it! What a strange body."

She cupped his face like a child's, while the man smiled.

"Chara, calm down, you can see he doesn't remember."

"Aww, I hope he's the same, otherwise it'll be boring."

She let go of him, and the demon slowly slid its wing behind him.

"I'll tell you everything, old friend."

And that's how Azaquiel learned of his origins, learned of his past, guardian of the Orb? Here it was strange, he didn't feel hunger, he absorbed energy directly from a greater source.

The Orb, unbearable since its return, crossed the heavens to hell to join him, and Azaquiel understood that this source of nourishment came from the Orb at his side.

He remained in the universe for a while before wishing to return. At first disappointed to learn that no one could make a portal here, the Frisk simply told him that if he had come by making one, he could make another. A grimace, a laugh. But he had nothing to lose, so he trained, because thanks to the orb, he had an unlimited supply of energy and shouldn't think about his survival.

His raw portals were too dangerous; they were so powerful that they could fool his bones. So he trained himself to create layers to mitigate the absorption power. After much work, he was finally able to generate one. He said his goodbyes to the strange duo, leaving the orb in its original state, and returned to Luxtale.

Since then, his daily life has become stable again. Except for one thing: he began to feel himself being watched, and to notice objects moving around his house. But there was no trace of odor, no residue. This was clearly not Echo's style. One day, he found a bouquet of red fairies* at home; fortunately, he hadn't inhaled any and immediately left the apartment. With a little help from his boss, he moved to a more secure apartment.

And yet, he felt something was wrong, but it was as if the entity that was haunting him didn't exist. Once, he found a small screen on his bed and recognized it immediately; the box was the one he had bought with the ring for Papyrus. He had immediately thrown the box away. But it had reappeared under his bed with the utmost discretion.

Because in the end, even if he had stopped thinking about his revenge,

Something had already taken revenge, and it had caused irreversible damage. Something uncontrollable…

..............................................................................................................................

Glossary:

Shinetale: is an AU about which I wrote (an old) story, available on my accounts. To better understand the history of this AU, I recommend reading it.

The Orb: literally the power of a creator personified in the universe. The person who uses it, other than the guardian, will end up consumed by the Orb.

Closed Multiverse: A multiverse that has no current connection to the others.

Nexus: If a multiverse contains universes, the Nexus contains Multiverses. There, the data is in a state of simplification bordering on "Perfection," a space filled with a luminous void, with code cubes changing from other cubes in measured silence.

The Spirit: who guided Azaquiel's soul is an old Oc who has no recent profile.

Unicorn: See true form profile.

EchO is one of my two main Gasters; both are linked to a majority of universe-related stories in my fandom space. EchO is indeed far from a good person, obsessed with the single variant among thousands of failures.

Colony: A colony is a cluster of erased/corrupted/incomplete universe codes that gathers to form an island in the void. Most won't reach the size of a large island, but in the case of Luxtale, which possesses a unique energy source, this colony reached the size of a megalopolis by the end of Arc 2. When you step outside the boundaries of a colony, there is only emptiness, no sky. Luxtale generates the illusion of a sky for the comfort of its inhabitants.

Arena: Arenas in Luxtale are legion. They are not places like Roman arenas, but rather teleportation points to universes where open spaces are generated for combat and survival. Participants survive for several days by battling each other under various rules. The winner(s) receive a large sum of money or a unique item. Most arenas save their participant's code, so if they die, their code is restored to their original world. Clandestine arenas don't do that; they retrieve random codes and summon random participants. Whether in an abandoned city, a forest, a vast underground, etc., whether it's simply the participants or beasts and others, the arenas are extremely popular and dangerous, broadcast on various channels.

Boss: The boss of the Luxtale mafia will eventually dominate almost the entire Colony. He's a huge, thick, shark-like monster with a closed expression. He quickly becomes attached to Azaquiel, who will be the same age as his son. But unlike his son, who will betray him and be eliminated, Azaquiel, who has no interest in power, will become his successor even though he doesn't want to.

Coin: Azaquiel's legendary coin normally allows one to transcend all laws and do whatever one wishes. He earned it in the only infection arena he'd ever played. The coin, however, has a conscience and is known to play tricks on the wishes granted to it. However, Azaquiel will simply use it to move from universe to universe, which will cause the object to become attached to him. The coin cannot be stolen; it must be given. Unfortunately, Azaquiel will leave it as a hidden gift to Papyrus and will never find it again.

Papyrus: Based on a classic Papyrus, I believe that once on the surface and in an environment that allows for normal development, Papyrus will mature and lose his innocence while retaining his own gentleness.

Exterior of the colony: Luxtale is linked to a variety of universes via different code links. Once the link is strong, you can buy stakes to move from one to another.

Red Fairies: Belonging to a family of magical flowers called "Fairies," Red Fairies are a vibrant scarlet, symbolizing passionate, even obsessive, love. Like all flowers in their family, their pollen can influence species. The Red Fairy is known to drive bestial monsters into a state of rage.

[satureja13]

Ji Ho gave a rough direction where the meteorites could be found and the Boys (minus Saiwa, since he was out of the crew - in mutual agreement), Jonathan and Lenny took a shuttle down to the surface. Axl, the Axolotl, Malfoy and Skully are watching the ship.

Ji Ho was in awe: "What a beautiful little planet! And so much water. Too bad I can't swim here." Jack: "Actually it's a moon. It's circling the planet. You can still see it behind the rocks. Over there." Ji Ho: "Oh there it is! It looks so close!" Kiyoshi: "The water is probably toxic anyway. Look how it glows ö.ö' " They walked for a while and took in the view, the colors and the strange flora. Jack: "Is it still far?" Ji Ho: "We must be near, but I'm starting to lose the connection."

Vlad sighed. He knows what that means. He can barely keep himself together doing all this bond magic without being able to find some release... So he took Ji Ho a bit away from the others and put everything in his kiss - so they could finally find the meteorites and this torture would end.

After poor Vlad had regained his compusure, they went back to the others. Before they left though, he had to promise Ji Ho they would continue what they started in their quarters once they were back on the ship...

Ji Ho lead them around a rock formation not far from where Vlad had kissed him. And really... Ji Ho started running: "The meteorites! They are here!" Jack was just as excited and followed him suit. Vlad was concerned. Why are their meteorites contained? Who put them in there? Kiyoshi must have thought the same. They almost yelled at the same time: "Be careful!"

There was a full setup that had been built above a glowing crack in the ground. The meteorites in two bubbling tubes, held by bioluminescent roots -that looked exactly like those from Kiyoshi's tree! And there were two portals under a huge glass dome that started to rotate when they came near.

Jack: "How is this possible? It's like a modified Therapy Game setup. Who built this? And who knew that we - and the meteorites - were coming here?" Vlad: "This could be a trap..." Jonathan checked the main interface. Jonathan: "I was able to log in with my password. Not even Vanië knows it..." Jonathan checked the code for a while. Jonathan: "It's just like with Tiny Can. That's my signature code. Just more... advanced. I also must have built this - in the future. Somehow Future Me knew the meteorites would land here." Jack: "Amazing. And weird."

Jeb: "So Future You - or maybe Future Jack and Me too - seem to want Jack and me to enter the game frome here? But why?" They went over to the crack in the ground. Jonathan: "Maybe this place is special somehow? The roots seem to consume the matter from the crack and lead it to the liquid in the tanks with the meteorites." Jeb: "This actually spares us a lot of time and effort. We should get Tiny Can down here and get ingame to rescue the Night Shadow, Conny, Val and Jino. What do you think, Jack? Ready?" Jack: "I was born ready!" Jonathan let out a shaky breath: "Ok, then. Tiny Can and I will remain here while the others should go back on board. Even though this all looks very reassuring and high-end - we shouldn't take any risks and cause interferences between our universes. Vlad and Kiyoshi - we stay in touch while you recalibrate the transporter beam so we can beam them back to their universe as soon as they step out of the game. You need to have an eye on the monitor all the time. Ji Ho and Vlad can take turns with you. But it shouldn't take long - since ingame time runs faster."

Kiyoshi didn't want to make it hard for Jack, so he just reminded him of his promise to be careful. Jack: "I will. I want another round in that cake after all ;) " Jack didn't want to make it hard for Kiyoshi either.

And when Kiyoshi and Jack kissed goodbye, Jeb's heart went heavy. He hadn't had a chance to talk to Saiwa after their first woohoo... It can't be helped. They will get the others out of that game and be back soon - hopefully. Sai probably won't even know they'd been gone. Even if they'd spent hours ingame, only a few minutes would have passed here in the meantime. Jeb doesn't even know what to say to him... Instead of taking Sai in his arms and take care of him after their first woohoo, he panicked - and left it to Jack... What do you say after an encounter like that? After messing up their first woohoo, it was everything Sai had ever wanted ö.Ö'

Ji Ho went over to Jeb and hugged him. Ji Ho: "It will all be well in the end, hm? We found the meteorites - and after Jack and you rescued the others, we can go back home. We are all going to stay together - always." This should probably sound cheesy. But when it comes to Ji Ho, Jeb goes all squishy. It was like hugging a ray of sunshine. And he believed him. Jeb blinked his treacherous tears away: "It will. We will *Jeb hugged Ji Ho tighter* Until later."

And then Kiyoshi, Vlad and Ji Ho took the shuttle back to the ship and sent Tiny Can with their equipment back to the moon's surface.

Jonathan, Jack and Jeb connected Tiny Can to the setup. Jack and Jeb put on their gear and stepped under the dome.

Jack: "We can do this!" Jeb: "See you on the other side!"

Jonathan: "Ok. Starting the Therapy Game save in 3 - 2 - 1...!"

And then they were gone. Jonathan: "And now we wait." Jonathan just hoped they'll do well. Even though Saiwa was determined to leave everything behind again and go with him - Jonathan knew he would kill him should something happen to his friends - especially Jeb. He would figure something out to make him stay with them. From what he'd seen over the past days, they love Saiwa regardless. Despite being so upset about his betrayal. Saiwa was lucky to find such good friends - and someone to love. After all that had happened to him. And maybe Jonathan could even stay with them in the Otherworld. The Council wouldn't find him there. They'd be safe.

'Mars ain't the kind of place to raise your kids In fact, it's cold as hell And there's no one there to raise them if you did And all the science, I don't understand It's just my job five days a week A rocket man A rocket man

And I think it's gonna be a long, long time 'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home Oh, no, no, no I'm a rocket man Rocket man Burning out his fuse up here alone'

Rocket Man - Elton John

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter 'Goats in Space': starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Piglets in Space' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

Outtakes

Lenny distracted Jonathan from his gloomy thoughts. He is hungry - again.

[breelandwalker]

Willow Wings Witch Shops - July 2025 Newsletter

Visit the Shop

Grab your library cards and your favorite backpack, it’s time for Summer Reading! This month, we’re celebrating those pillars of education and community, our local public libraries. While the weather outside may be frightful (in multiple ways), this is the perfect time to visit a quiet, comfortable, temperature-controlled sanctuary full of free books, music, and movies. Need to find a library to visit or need accessibility options? Here are some places that can help you look!

Find Your Library (National Library Service, USA)

Libraries.org (World Library Directory)

Little Free Library (World)

Library Finder (U.S. Dept of Labor)

Library Landscape (Latin America & the Caribbean)

Canadian Library Directory (Canada)

Lighthouse Libraries (EU)

Library Resources Outside the U.S. (Brown University Library resource)

Project Gutenberg (free public domain digital books)

Global Grey Ebooks (free public domain ebooks supported by donations)

Librivox (free volunteer-read public domain audiobooks)

Open Culture (online archive of free media)

Libby (app)

Scribd (app)

Everand (app)

And here in the Willow Wings Witch Shop, I’m following suit by discounting ALL of my books, including the money-saving Book Bundle! Add some magic to your personal library this month with Grovedaughter Witchery, The Sisters Grimmoire, and Pestlework. (They’re all based in practical, secular witchcraft so no matter what path you’re on, there’s something you can use!)

Use code READMORE for 20% off new and featured items all month long!

Don’t forget to check out the Upcoming Events page for my full schedule of local markets and workshops. Tune in to this month’s episode of Hex Positive on your favorite listening app and check out the Redbubble shop for fabulous podcast merch.

Stay Safe and Happy Witching! 📚

Upcoming Events:

The Witches Table Discussion Group: Williamsburg Chapter (First Wednesday of each month) Next Gathering - Wednesday, July 2 2025, 6pm-8pm Upcoming Dates - August 6 | Sept 3 (Location TBD) Alewerks Taproom (Williamsburg Outlets) 5715 Richmond Rd, Williamsburg VA (USA) Hosted by The Witches Table (And check out the Richmond chapter too!)

The Witches Table - Spellwriting Workshop Wednesday, July 2 2025, 6pm-8pm Alewerks Taproom (Williamsburg Outlets) 5715 Richmond Rd, Williamsburg VA (USA) Hosted by The Witches Table

Spellwriting Workshop Sunday, July 13 2025, 630pm-830pm Fallout RVA, 117 N 18th St, Richmond VA (USA) Hosted by Fallout RVA and The Witches Table Tickets via Eventbrite

Spellwriting Workshop Saturday, July 19 2025, Time TBD 10369 Warwick Blvd, Newport News VA (USA) Hosted by Styx & Stones

As Above, So Below - Grand Opening Sunday, July 20 2025, 12pm-4pm 25 E. Mellen St, Hampton VA (USA) Hosted by As Above, So Below

This Month on Hex Positive:

Ep. 057 - Three Gremlins In A Trenchcoat - Battling Imposter Syndrome with Bree, Lozzie, and Lulu Check it out on your favorite listening app!

Imposter Syndrome, or the feeling of being unqualified for the position you’re in and undeserving of the accolades you receive, is something that’s usually applied to high-pressure industry jobs and creative circles. But it can turn up in plenty of other areas of our lives, including in our witchcraft. This month, Bree sits down with returning guest host Lozzie Stardust and newcomer-to-the-show Lauren Goodnight to discuss this insidious feeling, how it affects our lives, and how we can combat it, even on the days when we feel like three gremlins in a trenchcoat.

(And check out Bree’s guest spot on the latest episode of BS-Free Witchcraft!)

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter fourteen

Cinnamon Roll

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Cardboard Castle Next Part: Everything will be Okay

Word Count: 7,758

Warnings: Please read. My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions of medical equipment, loss, abuse, PTSD, anxiety and depression. This chapter contains dialog and storytelling of the loss of a pregnancy. If this is a topic that weighs heavy on your heart and is too difficult to read, please skip to the next chapter. 🤍

The whole of the month you got to spend with Steve in Greenwood completely unapologetically was as magical as it could've been. Perfect was an understatement.

It felt like good stepping stones to really get life back on track after the blip. Although you had already gotten a good grip before your arrest, motivation to do better now that you had Steve back at your side was at an all time high.

He got to see all the work you did on the bakery while he was gone, and needless to say the hours you'd devoted worked really well. Business had never been better, and operations have never been smoother.

Though he did have to go back to New York for a little while before he could officially make the move over to the house next to yours, his absence was nothing like the first time.

This time, you knew he was alive and well. The two of your texted all day long, and would have conversations on the phone for hours on end about everything under the sun and nothing at all.

You'd send each other pictures of what you were doing throughout the day. Coffees in the morning, lunch with the Avengers, cakes you decorated that day, dinner with the girls, his fitting for a new suit, your outfit for that one bridal shower.

And in the loneliest hours, your sunflowers would glow. Sometimes if he was having trouble falling asleep in his bed all alone, he'd press his watch to see if you were awake.

Since there was a time difference, your necklace usually lit up around the time you were just getting home from work, so you were happy to make his sunflower glow. The two of you even made a little code.

Once was to say hi, a simple message to let each other know you we're thinking of them. Twice in a row was I miss you, three times was I love you.

Usually at night he would send one to say hi, and make sure you were there, and you would send one back. Then he'd send two to tell you he missed you, and you would send two back. Lastly he would send three, and you'd send three back.

It made you smile every single day. Such a simple, and easy way to know he was always with you even when he physically wasn't anywhere near.

Since he had been gone for two months, and you sill had a month and a half without him, you also took the time to really strengthen your social circle. With the loss of Georgia as your best friend, you found it a good time to really focus on other people in your life who meant a lot to you.

You felt comfortable with your friends now, confiding in them felt easier, hanging out with them felt like less effort, and every day you just felt better.

Steve did a lot to help you find acceptance in the blip, and in turn, he found his own as well. He reminded you that it was okay to start moving on from what was lost and start living your life to the fullest again. And that you did.

You still missed Georgia, especially this time of year. With a particularly traumatic event anniversary looming upon you and rapidly approaching, you found yourself wanting to knock on her door to talk about it. She was the only one who really knew the whole story, the only one that showed up for you that day when you needed someone.

Even though you desperately wanted to talk about it, somehow you couldn't let the words roll off your tongue to anyone. Not to Steve, not to your friends, and your therapist was blipped. Unfortunately, a lot of people turned to therapy after the loss of half the people in the universe which mean the waitlist to get a therapist in your insurance network was miles long.

You were close with your friends now, even best friends with some, but everyone's lives were so chaotic nowadays that you didn't want to trauma dump on them. And sweet Steve, states away in a city that was busy and a job that was even busier while packing up his stuff and arranging to move far away.

Deep down you knew if you told him he'd feel guilty for being so far, and once he knew, you knew he'd look at you through different eyes. Perhaps confiding from thousands of miles away would be easier, he'd had more space to process, and you wouldn't have to look him in the eye when you'd tell him why you've been so sad lately. But maybe from thousands of miles away, he didn't even have to know.

The last thing you ever wanted to do was burden anyone with your emotions. You didn't want to exist loudly in a room during a time that made you want to slip by completely forgotten.

And quite honestly, letting the words leave your mouth and settle into his ears made what happened to you even more real. It wasn't just a tale between you, your last lover, and Georgia.

It would be a real tragedy you'd have to face once more, over and over and over again.

Every morning you'd wake up and the date was displayed proudly on your phone screen, and every day counted down until the grand finale of your grief. Every day closer to the date was a day closer to putting that date behind you.

So, you decided to just be strong. Two more days and it would all be over again until next year. You'd put a brave face on, go to work to distract yourself, come home and go on a walk to distract yourself, dinner and a TV show to distract yourself, then go to sleep until it was time to do it again the next day.

The plan was working, in fact it had worked so well that you never allowed yourself time to process any of your emotions until it hit you like a tone of bricks the day before the anniversary.

It happened mid afternoon while at work while reading a custom cookie request for a baby's first birthday party. Wild one. Jungle animals, pretty monstera leaves, number ones with the little boy's name on them.

A knot formed in your throat faster than you could swallow it away, and tears filled your eyes and the need to cry stung your sinuses. The way you abruptly stood up from in front of the computer and announced you had to go scared pretty much every employee in the store at the time, but your body told you this was an emergency. It was like the building was on fire and every nerve was bouncing around in your brain telling you that exiting was your only means of survival.

You cried on your way home, you cried all the way up the stairs, you cried until you could change into comfortable clothes and get into bed. You laid there in silence and starred up at the ceiling for awhile. Day two of your period happening to fall during this time seemed like the universe laughing in your face. More pain, and heightened emotions. The palm of your right hand over your lower stomach, the palm of your left curled around your necklace.

Everything in you wanted to squeeze it to send Steve a little glow, you even wanted to call him to hear his voice for even just the slightest bit of comfort you could get, but once again, you just couldn't.

Steve was a smart man. He'd know a message from you around this time of day was out of the ordinary, he'd ask you about it, and you wouldn't be able to get yourself to lie to him. But you couldn't tell him what happened yet, still not ready for it to be true.

So you got out of bed and flipped through the hangers in your closet until you found his hoodie. You let it cover and warm your body like the big hug he'd give you if he was here right now, then crawled right back into bed. One hand on your lower stomach, the other clutching the sunflower.

You thought about him for awhile, how he'd react if you just doubled down and talked to him about what happened. The biggest part of you was terrified he'd be left feeling differently about you in the worst way possible, like telling him about the way a past man in your life had treated your body would make you unfavorable for him. But the smaller part of you knew he'd speak comforting words to you over the phone, and support you in anyway he could from so far away. He'd remind you that he'd be back sooner than you knew, he'd offer to fly over the moment he could. You really didn't want to bother him.

Fuck. You missed him. Okay, he gave you the necklace for a reason, you should just use it.

You squeezed it twice. I miss you.

You observed it in the palm of your hand for a while, waiting to see if he noticed you had sent him a little message.

Then, it lit up twice. I miss you too.

A long exhale passed your lips in an effort to take some calm breaths to convince yourself everything was okay. It's been three years now, that's 1,095 days you've survived since than, you have every means necessary to make it 1,096.

Then, your necklace lit up three times. I love you.

You squeezed it three times back. I love you too.

That little reminder was enough to snap yourself out of it for a while. You watched a movie in bed, took a shower, then called it a night early around 7:30pm. But you couldn't sleep, your mind was racing way too fast alongside your heart. A little while later, your phone rang beside you and you didn't even open your eyes to pick it up, you already knew who it was.

"Hi, baby" Steve's voice filled your room.

"Hi, love. How are you?" You asked, trying to sound normal. It didn't work.

"I'm good!" He answered. "I called you so you didn't get scared."

"Scared?" You questioned, throughly confused.

"Your front door is about to open, but it's fine. Don't worry about it." He said.

"...my front door? Is about to open? And I shouldn't be scared?" You reiterated.

"Yeah, it's totally fine. Pay it no mind." He confirmed.

You could hear the lock and knob rattling from downstairs, then the familiar sound of the door opening and closing.

"Okaaaaayy? Do I want to know who's in my house right now or should I just continue to pretend like this is totally fine and normal?"

"No it's definitely totally fine and 100% normal." He reassured. "Hey, why are all the lights off right now?"

"Are you in my house or is this like... some sort of Avengers secret spy thing and something is about to try and kill me but it's going to be fine because I'm on the phone with you?" You asked, heart rate increasing by the second.

"Everything is fine, including the footsteps up your staircase." His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Steve..."

"I'm coming in"

You bedroom door knob turned before it opened, revealing a slightly disheveled Steve in cozy clothes with a backpack on his back and flowers in his hand.

"Surprise!" He greeted you with a big smile, and sleepy eyes.

"Steve! What the h- why are you here?!" You happily jumped out of bed and practically tackled him in the biggest hug you could manage.

"Cause I missed you!" He enthused, keeping his balance despite how much force you had used to knock into him.

"I missed you too!" You squeezed him tight. A hug from him was exactly what you needed right now.

“That conference thing next week got canceled and I had nothing on the schedule until then. I was already contemplating it, then you said you missed me so I hopped on the Jet and now here I am!"

You giggled before rocking up on your tippy toes to reach his lips for a kiss. "I'm so happy you're here!"

"I was just going to come in and walk up but I really didn't want to get the police called on me today." He explained.

"Yeah, that definitely would've scared the shit out of me." You agreed with a smile as you got a good look at his face. He looked tired, his eyes were sleepy and swollen, his shoulders and posture was relaxed, and his voice was raspier than usual. "You seem tired, are you alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine!" He assured you. "I did some agility training this morning and it kicked my butt. I'm just tired and sore."

"You? Sore?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Unfortunately." Steve grinned, then he noticed your face. Your nose and eyes were red, they lacked that usual sparkle he was used to. The smile he loved so much seemed like it was the first time it occurred all day long. "Woah, Sunflower what's wrong?"

You watched his face change from happy to concerned in a split second. He set the flowers down on the dresser, and slipped his backpack off before setting it against the wall. "Oh, nothing I'm okay."

"At what point are we going to learn that I'll never believe that?" Steve denied your claim.

You raised an eyebrow at him as he sat down on the edge of your bed and pat his lap, prompting you to sit. Unfortunately, even with him right in front of you, you still couldn't get yourself to talk about it. Only half the truth was going to have to make due for now.

Sitting sideways on his lap, you hid your face away in the crook of his neck and let his strong arms squeeze you tight and support your body as your curled up into a little ball. Right here, hiding away against his body and behind the protection of his arms was where you felt safest. You wished in that moment that you could spend the rest of today and all of tomorrow here.

"Didn't even realized how much I needed this until right now." You confessed, melting into him him butter.

"Talk to me, Sweetheart. What's going on?" Steve asked, pressing kisses to your forehead.

You sighed, feeling bad that this was supposed to be a happy surprise but you're ruining it for him. "Sorry, just- hard day at work, cramps, hormones making the hard day even harder." You explained.

"Really?! Didn't you just get your period like..." he counted on his fingers. "Four weeks ago?"

"Cruel isn't it?" He forced more smiles out of you.

"So cruel." Steve agreed. "What happened at work?"

"Super busy as usual, I just kind've felt like I was drowning all day and unable to keep up."

"I'm sorry, Baby." Steve pouted before kissing your cheek. He had a strong suspicion that there was more happening beneath the surface, but he also understood that it was getting late and his presence was unexpected. You probably needed more time to warm back up. "How can I make you feel better?"

"This is more than enough." You smiled, squeezing him tightly with your arms once more. "Thanks for coming."'

"Anything for you" He squeezed you back.

Since it was already pretty late and you were both tired, you got into bed and cuddled up close. Once again, you were amazed by Steve's ability to be by your side when you needed him most, even if he might not have realized how impeccable his timing was. His heart beating calmly and slowly against your palm did wonders to ground you, and the loving exchange of words and slow kisses calmed your mind from running too far ahead of itself.

Steve eventually drifted off, but sleep never arrived for you. Most of the night was spent staring up at the ceiling and holding Steve in the embrace he subconsciously had you in.

He had woken up a few times in the night completely unnoticed by you, or maybe you just didn't have the energy to acknowledge he was awake, but each time he caught you with a hand on your stomach and your eyes glued to the ceiling. At one point he even tried to help you. He trapped you in his arms and you hid your face into the crook of his neck once more, your legs tangled up with his and his warm hand cradled the back of your head. You kissed his neck in appreciation and really tried your hardest to turn your brain off.

Then, when Steve woke up the next morning you were out like a light. Your body was completely on top of his, and so relaxed you might as well have been a piece cooked spaghetti. He stayed with you for a while, making sure to massage your back and play with your hair, but he realized after a while that there were no signs you were anywhere near ready to wake up and function for the day. As carefully as he would diffuse a bomb, he slipped out from underneath you and tucked you back in super tight before kissing you goodbye and going for a run.

By the time he finished a disgusting amount of miles and actually tuckered himself out, he showered and made his way back to you. Carrying his feet up the stairs, he found you dressed for the day, hair done in a cute little clip, sneakers on your feet, but also slouched over with your head in your hands.

The sound of the door opening alerted you to pick yourself up, but it was no use. You couldn't even hide that you were miserable.

"Good morning, baby." You stuck your arms out for a hug.

"Morning" He leaned over and gave you one without question, before squatting down in front of you. "Still not feeling good?"

His face was full of so much sympathy it made you want to curl up into a ball and cry, but that wasn't an option right now. Not when your girls at the bakery called for help even though you blocked today off just for yourself. "Is it really that obvious?"

"You look beautiful," He kindly smiled as he took his hands into yours. "but you don't seem like yourself, and I can tell you didn't sleep much last night."

"I didn't, that's for sure."

"You have to go to work?" He questioned sadly.

You nodded with regret and apology. He flew all the way here just to see you, but all he got was the worst version of you and now none of you at all. "I'm sorry, the girls asked me to come in, they're drowning in work just like I was yesterday."

"No, don't be sorry." Steve reassured you, his kind smile persisting. "If you need help with anything just let me know, alright? You know I'm happy to help."

"Thank you, Stevie." This time you smiled. "I feel really bad that you came all this way to see me and all you've gotten is...this." You referred to yourself.

"Hey, don't say that." He furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not here to only love you when you're at your best, Sunflower. I love you just as much like this as I would if you were happy and bouncing off the walls."

"I love you so much." You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He kissed your cheek, then you pulled away. "You know if you ever want to talk about anything I'm here for you, judgement free right?"

"I know, and I appreciate that." You nodded, contemplating your words and desperately trying to find the right ones. Remembering the last time your trauma caused you to feel too scared to talk to him, a light clicked in your head when you remembered he thought it was his fault. "I'm going to be honest and say that today is going to be a hard day, but if you just give me until tomorrow I promise I'll be better."

"So there is something wrong?" He questioned gently, your hands shook in his hold so he rubbed the back of them with his thumbs.

You nodded. "I'm sorry. I just- I don't know how to talk about it. And I have to go to work for a while so I don't even want to open up a whole can of worms right before I have to go. It's been so busy I feel like I can't even breathe, plus with all of this it just feels like everybody wants too much from me-"

"Hey, it's okay, just take a deep breath." Steve reminded you. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I'm not going to make you. There's no timeline, you don't have to be better by tomorrow."

"I'm sorry" You apologized again, taking a deep breath.

"You're okay" He squeezed your hands. "I love you, and I want to support you the best way I can."

"I love you too. I'll see you when I get home?"

"I'll be here" Steve reassured you.

Work was fine for a little while, you were able to completely shut off the brain noise as you helped catch up on cake orders and played barista in the front. But a few hours before closing there was a huge rush, and it never slowed down until you had to cut off the customers from coming in at exactly closing time. Then there was so much to do that you couldn't even think about anything happening in your personal life if you wanted to. There were a million different things happening at once, each of your employees had a million questions for you, each question distracted you from every task from the long list you so desperately needed to complete.

You got yelled at by more than one customer, and it definitely wasn't a pleasant experience. Words of how you're a terrible person with worse business ethic were spat at you, reminders that you're a bitch and you lost customers over not serving chocolate chip cookies after closing time.

One woman even made a comment to you after calling you incompetent that made you hold back a laugh from deep within your soul. "I came all the way here to get the same treats Captain America eats and this is what I get? Steve Rogers would make sure everyone in line got something instead of cutting people off and sending them home empty handed."

You could've explained that every single one of your employees was already putting in more hours than normal. They were all exhausted, on overtime, and you were trying your hardest to not ware them all out more than you already have. You could've said the bake case was almost empty anyways, there wasn't even enough to serve everyone in line. You even could have even given them one of the last few pastries in the case to make up for the inconvenience, because really you did feel bad.

But instead, you condemned her for being rude to you. You stood your ground and asked her to leave. Normally you wouldn't stick up for yourself like that in the bakery, you always had a professional response to everything and any situation that was thrown your way. But there was an anger bubbling inside you since you woke up this morning.

Three years ago the universe took a lot from you, and today when you just needed to give back to yourself, you were met with nothing but people taking more from you.

Steve was at home waiting for your time, the girls needed your effort, the customers needed more than you could offer them. They called you names, you worked yourself to the bone, and you were harboring guilt all dealing with a plethora of your own issues. So yes, you yelled back at her.That wasn't something you were going to feel bad about. She had it coming.

However, the anger from the day boiled inside you as you closed the bakery and made your way home. Saying you were overwhelmed and overstimulated was an understatement, and knowing you had an opportunity for just a few moments of alone time was the only thing holding you together.

You rushed into your house like a tornado, the front door slammed behind you in your residual gusts of wind. Not even bothering to lock it, you bolted up the stairs, straight through your bedroom and right into your bathroom where you subconsciously slammed the door once more. The bath was filling with steamy hot water and bubbles from your favorite soap in an instant.

Being so laser focused on a long hot bath, and being so stuck in your own anger made you miss the way Steve was sitting on your couch. You missed him locking the door behind you with big wide eyes, you missed him calling after you, you missed the way you had slammed not only your bedroom door, but also your bathroom door right in his face as your ripped through your house.

Quite honestly, Steve was feeling deeply concerned. He had never seen you anything but quiet and gentle before. Even on your saddest days you walked gently as if the ground was made of wispy cotton candy, you moved calmly, everything you did was quiet. But this? This was like the Tasmanian Devil from looney toons had possessed his girlfriend. This had him timidly knocking on the bathroom door before he entered, which you also somehow seemed to miss.

He poked his head in but didn't dare to enter. You were ripping your shirt off and kicking your shoes off your feet at the same time. "Everything okay?" He asked quietly.

"Jesus Chris-"You shrieked and jumped out of your skin. "What the fuck- dude. Don't sneak up on me like that."

"I'm sorry, I thought you heard me." Steve defended himself. "I was calling after you, I knocked on the door."

"Okay well, obviously I didn't hear you." You snapped, immediately feeling guilty but also feeling completely unable to take down your attitude down a notch.

His eyebrows raised, feeling surprised by your reaction towards him. "Are you okay?"

"Im so tired of being asked that as if I'm some ticking time bomb." As you continued undressing, you glared at him. You fucking hated that question, especially at this moment when it was very obvious that you were not. But, you could tell that your defensiveness was making him defensive, and that made you all the more anxious but you just couldn't stop. "But i'm just peachy! Thanks for asking!"

"I'm not what you're mad at." He reminded you. "I'm not the enemy."

He was right, but telling by his tone he was definitely not happy with you. "Can I just get some time to myself?" You took some deep breaths, but your tone was still putting up its fight. "Maybe like an hour? Please?"

Though Steve knew you were going through something, this was the first time the two of you even had anything close to an argument. He was trying not to feel hurt but he couldn't get Georgia's words out of his head. They played over and over again like a record with a deep scratch in its grooves.

She'll love you so hard, but shut you out when things get emotionally tough in her head. So much so that it'll suffocate you.

"You're shutting me out." Steve mumbled. He didn't know if it was to himself or to you, but either way it slipped passed his lips.

"I'm not shutting you out, I just need an hour to pull myself together because I can't regulate my emotions right now and I don't want to hurt your feelings by saying something I don't mean." You explained, pulling your hair up into a bun while your heart raced out of your chest.

"Should I not have come?" Steve asked, hurt in his eyes.

"What?" You asked, slowly remembering something you had overheard but completely blocked out from your memory.

"I feel like I shouldn't have come here." He said again, this time he hurt your feelings.

That one line from him set you right back into the way things used to be with your ex. You shut down your own feelings to protect yourself, and started pushing him away. "Are you feeling suffocated?"

His head snapped up and his eyes burned holes into your body as you sank into the bath. "I'm sorry I don't understa-"

"If you feel suffocated you can just go home, breathe some fresh air somewhere I'm not." You spat, trying not to cry.

"You heard that conversation with Georgia?" He asked, finally piecing together the puzzle.

"My window was open, I had no choice." You explained. "I know that she probably planted a little bug in your head. You've probably been worried about it every day since she said that to you."

"Sunflower you can't just-"

"Can't what?" You spat, arms resting on the side of the tub. "Tell you I'm not in a good place and I need a day to just feel better again? Communicate that I need some alone time to avoid exactly what's happening right now? Tell you I already feel bad about how you came here just for me to be in a not so great mental state?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out so it snapped shut.

"I'm trying Steve. I'm trying to be better, trying to not be so... suffocating but right now I'm giving all I have. This is it. And if it's not enough, you can just go home and we can deal with this later. I have nothing left."

"I'll leave if you want me to, but I can't get the Jet out of the hanger until the morning." He grumbled.

"The Jet?" You questioned, the cracks in your heart shattered even deeper in your chest.

"You told me to go home."

You chuckled as to disguise the way your heat shattered at the confirmation of your worst fear. Greenwood didn’t feel like home to him, and you were holding him back in the small town when his heart beloved in a big city. "Well I thought we were both in agreement that your home was one door over."

Steve immediately realized the damage he had done and instantly felt terrible for misunderstanding you. The guilt squeezed his chest making it hard to breathe, now he was the one who needed some time to himself just to reassess the damage that had been done and formulate a way to properly fix it.

"It is but I thought you meant-" The words continued escaping him. He couldn't even formulate a proper sentence anymore. Honestly, each of his words dug him a deeper grave that he had to lay in so he just decided to shut up. That's probably what you wanted from the moment he accidentally scared you in the first place.

"If you don't feel like this is your home, it doesn't have to be." You scolded him. "And if I'm suffocating you, you don't have to stay here. No one is forcing you to put up with any of this."

"Yet I'm still here, aren't I?" He pointed out.

"I need an hour." You firmly set your boundary. "Minimum."

"That's fine. I'm just... I'm gonna go home." Steve mumbled.

"Guess I'll find out where that is later." You said your peace before letting the whole of your tired body sink into the hot water.

Steve watched your lip wobble and your eyes close as you settled into the tub. One single tear fell down your face as you took some deep breaths and waited for the sound of the door to slam shut. It never did, instead there were footsteps towards you and the gentlest of kisses on the crown of your head before he left and the door clicked quietly behind him.

You used a little battery powered remote to turn off all the bathroom lights, and let the tears fall quietly as you kept your eyes closed and made peace with not being okay for a while.

The warm water, small dark room, and a cozy scent felt like the best sanctuary away from the craziness of the world. The warmth and pressure of the deep water felt like the hug you really needed all day, and the lack of stimulants made you feel as though you could catch your breath again.

Meanwhile, Steve went home and set a timer on his phone for one hour and one minute. If you needed a minimum of an hour, that's what he would give you before letting you know what he so desperately needed you to hear.

Just as your mind relaxed and you felt like you had a good grip on your emotions again, Steve's alarm went off.

The completely dark bathroom illuminated with a soft golden glow, even with your eyes closed you could see it through your eyelids.

Slowly opening them, you counted three lights. I love you.

Your hand moved up from its spot on your lower stomach, and gripped the sunflower on your necklace.

You squeezed it three times. I love you too.

Watching his watch light up gave him enough courage to get off his ass and actually execute the very plan he thought of the moment he stepped out of your front door.

A little while later, your bath ran cold and your eyes grew heavy so got out and dressed yourself. You dragged your heavy feet down the stairs for a calming cup of tea to help you sleep, they shuffled on the hardwood floors of the first level and stopped in place when you saw a sleepy and sad Steve on your couch.

His blank stare at the tv was distracted by your entrance, so he sat up and started explaining himself. "You told me to go home, but my home is wherever you are so I settled for the couch."

Everything in you ached, and you hated every second of the little argument you just had.

"You don't have to talk about what's happening, and we don't even have to talk about what happened upstairs until you feel better, but I don't want you to be alone." Steve explained, keeping his voice mellow and calm.

In that moment, you surrendered. Your white flag waved high up on a pole, and you chucked all your fears out of the window.

What happened to you was real whether people knew or not, and you and Steve were already on a pretty rocky road. Whether this would patch up the potholes or open up a sinkhole didn't really matter to you anymore. You were just desperate to not feel so alone inside of your own head.

So you walked towards him and dove into his arms. Much like he did last night, he held you safely against his warm body without question.

No longer asking if you were okay, he just let you be sad. He knew now that not everything needed a solution, but you definitely needed support.

You stayed there for a little while, finding the strength to let him in while simultaneously basking in his body heat. Really, he thought you weren't going to speak another word until tomorrow morning. But when he heard your quiet voice tucked between his neck and shoulder he almost couldn't believe it was coming from you.

"Three years ago my ex shoved me down the stairs." You started. After that you almost stopped, you could've just left it at that. You even waited a few moments to see if he had a response to that, but it seemed like he was more so waiting for you to continue. "We had a really bad argument right in the hallway, well, it started in the bathroom and he led me to the hallway. Something I said really pissed him off and he shoved me backwards. I lost my balance, fell down every single step."

Steve's arms wrapped tighter around you, unsure of when or if he was supposed to say anything to you. But some arm rubs seemed to do the trick as you settled deeper into his body and opened your heart to him.

"When he recalls the story, he said I tripped over my own feet and for a little while I believed him." You added.

"We're you okay?" Steve practically whispered.

"We got into that really bad argument because he had gotten me pregnant on accident" You revealed, feeling nervous to the point of nausea.

Once again, he didn't know how to respond to that, but he let out a little grimace hoping that where he thought this story was going would end up a thousand times better than what was in his head.

"It was an accident but I was excited, I always wanted to be a mom and I knew I could do it whether he wanted to be present in it's little life or not. He wanted me to terminate the pregnancy pretty early on, but I convinced him to let me take charge. I would do everything on my own, he's never have to lift a single finger, that's what we agreed on." You explained. "I was 12 weeks along and we found out it was a boy. I was so happy, but he just... blew up. He said I was trapping him- intentionally trying to ruining his life because I had everything I wanted in the palm of my hand. It was that same day I just so happen to trip over my own feet."

"I'm so sorry." Steve already knew this had a bad ending, he couldn't even brace himself for it.

"Baby lost his heartbeat before I could even make it to Greenwood Medical. Georgia was out of town when it happened, I didn't want to upset my mom with the news and loss of a baby in the same phone call, and my ex said if I needed to deal with the consequences of my own actions so I was alone in the hospital room for four days after an emergency extraction and sustaining a plethora of other injuries until Georgia could come him." You continued the story. "She brought me home from the hospital and took care of me night and day for a whole week before convincing me to file a police report. But the second he found out that I was trying to take legal action against him, he packed all his stuff and left. We couldn't even find him to serve a restraining order against him after that, nobody even knew he was in Arizona until a year after he left."

"When he was found, was a restraining order served?" Steve questioned.

You nodded. "I'm usually okay. I can think about the baby without getting sad, I remember those 12 weeks through rose colored glasses even though I was so terribly sick every day. But this is the one time of year I can't beat it. I get angry that it happened, I just wanted to track him down and scream in his face, I just feel mad at the world when I see happy moms with their kids. And this year, my period just feels like a cruel reminder that I'm definitely not pregnant."

Steve kissed your head as he tried to find the right words to make it better, but nothing could. Quite honestly, if he had been through anything like that, he was sure he wouldn't be as put together as you were regardless of the argument you two had, and the fact that you felt like you were falling apart.

A lot of situations clicked into place through your admission. Your fear of the hospital, your subtle reaction to him asking if you wanted kids, your hand that never seemed to leave it's spot on your tummy while you stared up at the ceiling last night.

"I usually spend this day alone, but everyone needed a lot from me today. Work was stressful and customers were yelling at me when I already had very little to offer the world. I didn't mean to shut you out, and I definitely didn't mean to be rude. I just... snapped and I'm really sorry." You finally apologized feeling so much lighter already. "You didn't deserve my attitude, and you weren't what I was mad about."

"It's okay, I knew something was wrong and I let my own hard head get in the way." He accepted. "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and not really hearing what you were saying."

"I completely understand, if you didn't know I get that my behavior probably seems completely irrational and dramatic." You sympathized. "I think you handled it pretty well."

"Nothing about your behavior today has been dramatic, and I definitely didn't handle that well." He denied. "But I know now, and I'll do better next time. I'm so sorry that happened to you, Sunflower. I don't even know what to say, but I'm sure you've heard every bullshit greeting card invalidating response under the sun already."

"Oh trust me, I know I'm young and I could just pop out another one whenever I want to." You chuckled at the accuracy of his statement. "Don't worry, I know Jesus or god or whoever is up there has a baby ready for me whenever I'm really ready to be a mom."

Steve physically cringed at those two statements, "Is there anything I can do for you to make this day better?"

You shook your head with an artificial grin. "Your patience and understanding has been more than enough."

He kissed the top of you head, and thought long and hard about words he could speak to bring you comfort, but you spoke again before he did.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my pregnancy sooner. I wasn't trying to hide it or keep it a secret, it's just.... It's hard to talk about. And I found that when I told people I was always met with these pitiful looks and sentiments that always made me feel worse than when I just kept it all bottled up. It's also something that I definitely would've been punished for in the past and I'm just trying really hard to unlearn all of the fear that comes along with rebuilding healthy relationships. I'm never trying to push you away when things get hard or shut you out, sometimes I just get scared and I don't know how to handle it."

"Well I think you're doing a really good job." Steve softly grinned down at you. His praise warmed your heart and your cheeks. "I can't imagine any of that was easy, so thank you for sharing that with me."

"You make it easy." You let out a sigh of relief.

"You're always safe with me, Sunflower." Steve reminded you. "Always. I mean that. I'm here for you whenever you need me for anything no matter what. Nothing will ever change the way I love you."

"Our love for each other has been pretty unconditional so far hasn't it?" You giggled.

Steve thought about what you said before smiling in agreement. "Yeah, we have been through some crazy stuff together haven't we?"

"I'd say so." You agreed.

"Did he have a name?" Steve questioned.

"The baby?" You reiterated.

"Yeah" he nodded with a grin.

"I never got the chance to give him one" You denied, "but I was calling him cinnamon roll."

"Awww cause he was a little bun in your oven?" Steve pouted because it was just too cute to handle.

"Exactly"

"Well in all the time cinnamon roll had with you, all he ever knew was the best mama in the whole world." Steve acknowledged, not wanting to dismiss what your grief was reminding you off today.

You lip trembled despite your genuine smile, and your eyes filled with tears. "Damn it honey, I just stopped crying."

"It's okay to cry" He smiled with you, giving you another squeeze. "Shedding some tears is wonderful way to spend the day regardless of the pain. It's just a reminder of how much you really loved him and I think that's beautiful."

"Thank you, Stevie, for everything. You're the best person I've ever had in my life, and I love you so fucking much." You dug your face back into the crook of his neck feeling an overwhelming amount of love for the baby you never got to know and the man holding you close.

"I love you too." He gently rocked you.

"I think you'll be the best dad in the whole world one day." You thought out loud.

"And you're the best mom ever."

Once again, that statement made the tears fall past the surface point. Steve let you quietly cry in his arms until he unintentionally lulled you to sleep.

But tonight unlike any of the night of the previous three years, your tears were full of joy. And instead of drifting off and thinking of the loss and the what if's, you thought of something much happier.

You reminisced on all of the times, the years, you settled for scraps. The times of your life you begged of any ounce of affection and support, you thought you had to earn it. When you did, the attention was laced with rejection, resentment lingered through every word and every touch.

And now you got to fall asleep in the safety of the arms of your favorite person. His words came without incentive, you didn't have to beg for his touch. You didn't need to earn the tender moments or reassurance.

It all just came so easy.

Though religion was something that escaped you early in life, you were convinced this new life you had was good enough to be heaven sent, and Steve was the closest thing to a real life angel you'd ever see.

You slept soundly that night knowing that one day whenever you were ready, you'd have a little cinnamon roll to love for the rest of your life.

And maybe a honeybun.

Maybe a popover.

And with full confidence they would be half you, half angel.

Next Part: Everything will be Okay

Please note that I understand I’m covering heavy topics in this series, but I wholeheartedly believe it’s important to highlight an experience that is unfortunately very common in womanhood. To be anything but a cis white man is to fight in a world that wasn’t made for you, and I think writing only experiences of sunshine and rainbows for readers is a disservice to capturing living a human life. Much love and lots of light to everyone reading 🤍🌟

Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean @buckymydarlingangel @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @happinessinthebeing @differenttyphoonwerewolf @themotherof10 @lokislady82 @talesofadragon @spikeluv84 @xxxalicerogersxx @Avid-fic-reader-05 @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bitchy-bi-trash @crazyunsexycool @openup-yourmind @selella @kattreffic @benedict-squirtle @magnificentsaladllama @natashassandwitch @theroyalmanatee @calwitch @avengersinitiative2012 @rogersbarber @daddywattpad4945

[pkmnirl]

I was wondering, what exactly are Pelipper/Musharna Mail/Malice and Magic Anons? I see them all the time on other blogs and I'm a little confused.

EDIT 3/14: Mixed up Pelipper Malice and Pelipper Unmail. Terms have been updated!

EDIT 3/20: Added an explanation of Union Circle.

Sure thing! Those are very in-community terms so I can't blame folks for getting confused. I'll try and provide a definition for each, let me know if you have further questions! I'm wording these a bit different than usual, trying to focus more on terms like sender and receiver rather than muse, mun, or anon, so that this is hopefully easy to read for everyone.

Pelipper Mail - Inspired by pokemon mystery dungeon, where the post office is operated by a group of pelipper hand (wing?) delivering packages and letters. It's used when someone wants to deliver something to the receiving blog. Typically it is delivered by a pelipper itself, but sometimes receiving blogs will decide Pelipper Mail refers to a postal delivery service operated by people or a sender's mail is delivered by a specific pokemon instead. It can be delivered to the receiver's address or directly to them wherever they are, depending on what the receiving blog may want!

Pelipper Malice - Similar to Pelipper Mail, but the package is intended to cause the receiver distress in some sort of way.

Pelipper Unmail- A jokey subversion of Pelipper Mail. The pelipper/pokemon steals something from the receiver's house.

Mystery Gift - Not included on the list of things you asked about, but its a similar concept to Pelipper Mail, so I wanna explain it here. Mimicking the mainline games and their mystery gift feature, a character is sent something by another user using a code in place of an address. This version allows for the receiver to reject packages in-character if they do not want to redeem the gift. It also allows for the receiver's information to be completely anonymous in-universe, if the receiver does not want people to know their location for whatever reason. Kind of like a PO box as they are redeemed via the PC system.

Some also use mystery gifts for in-universe accounts distributing promotional codes. For example, the Kalos Pokemon League may release a code that anyone can redeem at a local pokemon center or pokemart to receive 10 free potions. This code can only be used once per trainer ID.

Musharna Mail - The sender gives the receiver a specific dream. How that dream is interpreted by the receiver is up to the blog. May be a vague prompt or may be something more complex or specific.

Musharna Malice/Darkrai Mail - Another subversion of another inbox game. The sender gives the receiver a specific nightmare. Once again, interpretation is left up to the receiver.

Magic Anons - A popular concept in inbox based roleplaying communities and is extremely broad compared to these other more niche terms. The simplest definition is a sender gives a condition and a criteria that must be met for the condition to be resolved for the receiver.

Example: "The receiver's skin and hair turns purple for 5 asks." For the next 5 inbox messages the receiver answers, they will be the color purple! Follow up inbox messages may be about how this came to happen, how the receiver intends to resolve this dilemma, or how the receiver is coping with the condition, or they may be about something completely unrelated! It might be more about how the receiver is trying to ignore this condition, and the comedy or drama that may result. Maybe the receiver really likes this condition, and is lamenting it ending.

Magic anons are mainly used to give blogs absurdist prompts, typically not tied to anything specific. Some blogs may for this reason consider them to be completely non-canon, and all in good fun.

Union Circle - Used as a means of blog crossovers referencing the multiplayer function in Scarlet and Violet. Characters in a union circle scenario are able to interact with one another in-person when typically they would be otherwise unable to. In-game Union Circles connect users by means of teleportation and allows cross-play between game versions, even if this alters available pokemon and seems to connect the game universes, so ostensibly this can bridge distances and canons in roleplay as well.

Remember! You are never required to respond to inbox prompts that make you uncomfortable. If you do not like a magic anon or a musharna malice prompt you received gives you an icky feeling you can and should delete them. These are intended to be fun prompts, and never should be treated like an obligation. Hope this helps you!

-Mod Sneasel

[cosmotheo]

🌻

So basically, I think a lot CAN be done with the isekai genre that isn't because people are inherently misinterpreting what is interesting about the genre, especially from a horror angle. The horror of isekai doesn't come from death, or the big scary rpg monster that you fight. It comes from the fact that, in this world, the laws of nature are gameified. Depending on the system, from the moment you're born you are forced not just by society but by the very elements around you to partake in a role in society. We live in a world where the rules make sense, where everything has an inherent logical balance. But the more you turn life into a game, the more the rules must then lean towards a winner, and thus the balance is shifted. The horror of isekai is that, in a very true and real sense, the world is out to get you. And that's only if you're an NPC!

If you're a player character and you get Isekai'd, ohhh man. I actually think SAO does this the *best*, but I think it still could have been better. The idea of being trapped somewhere else while you're physically rotting back on Earth. The reality that many people didn't die from anything inside the game, but from the collision they got when they fucking collapsed and smashed their head into the floor. The horror of not being able to see your family for months, maybe even ever again, because of some minor coding error that someone else made. It goes hand in hand with the previous point, though: the acknowledgement of the unfairness of the universe in which a story like this could take place. It is a perfect setup for existential dread and cosmic horror, and it's ignored because it's inconvenient! It's not necessary information for telling the same cookie cutter power fantasy story that's been told 50 times last season alone!

And even if you WANTED to just use isekai as bullshit power fantasy wish fulfillment, there are so many more interesting ways to go about it! Solo Leveling does a terrible job at capturing my attention because nothing fucking has any stakes! You're telling me that I'm supposed to feel bad for Jinwoo because I saw him get punched by a goblin one time?? At least in Shield Hero (another one that is heavily flawed) you get to spend an entire season wallowing in this guy's misery with him. You see him get mistreated, tricked, beaten, see him lose everything for reasons that aren't his fault. The problem with THAT is that they didn't actually have good enough writers to perpetuate that misery, or to turn that misery into a quest that actually meant something.

Do you know why people like Homestuck? It's because it's a WILDLY imaginative take on the isekai genre. Is it annoying, obnoxious, lol random XD bullshit? Yeah, like 75% of the time! Is it instantly recognizable in its plot points, art style, weapon and character design, magic system, job system, and general aesthetic? FUCK YEAH! You take the top 25 isekai anime of the past 3 years, you lay all their detail points in a Venn Diagram, you're basically looking at a fucking circle. Oh, but THIS ONE'S about a teacher! Oh, but THIS ONE'S about a guy who's bad at everything! Oh, but THIS ONE'S A FUCKING PEDOPHILE (AAAAAAAAAA) Don't even get me started on the Appraise skill. Jesus fucking Christ, learn some different fucking plot points for Pete's sake!

For one, you can try basing it off a game that's not already been beaten to death! Why is it MMOs? Why is it ALWAYS MMOs? Is it because the first couple were MMOs and they saw that it sold well, so they just copied and pasted those plots with bland, pointless audience analogue MCs? (Yes.) Do something else! Try something new! Write your own fucking ttrpg and make them do that! Have them fall into fucking Worms Armageddon! Isekai where MC becomes the player in City Skylines when?

The problem with the genre isn't that we've done everything there is to do, and so now everyone's just picking at the scraps left on the plate of ideas. The problem is that it's become consumed with capitalist nonsense. Isekai is no longer art, it's a product made to sell to disenfranchised young men to make them feel special without earning it and make them feel cheated out of a life they were never promised. The same 2 ideas are passed back and forth like a ping pong ball, and people still gobble that shit up. It's embarrassing, and I say this as someone who is genuinely in love with the genre and wants to see it brought to the heights that I know it can reach.

[torchandkey]

The Sacred Art of Fiber Crafts: Weaving Magic Through Every Stitch

In the gentle rhythm of needles clicking and yarn flowing through fingers, there exists an ancient magic that modern practitioners are rediscovering. Knitting and crocheting, far beyond their practical applications, serve as powerful tools for protection magic and spiritual meditation – a practice that connects us to generations of wise women who came before.

🧿The Meditative Dance of Thread and Needle

Every stitch is a breath, every row a prayer. When we sit down with our yarn and needles, we enter a state of flow that bears remarkable similarity to traditional meditation practices. The repetitive motions quiet the mind, creating a trance-like state where we can access deeper levels of consciousness. Time seems to slow, and the boundary between craftsperson and craft begins to blur.

This meditative state isn't just peaceful – it's powerful. As we work, we naturally align our energy with the universal flow, much like the steady rhythm of waves on a shore or the cyclical turning of the seasons. Each stitch becomes an opportunity to infuse our work with intention, to weave protection and blessing into every fiber.

🪢Protection Magic in Every Row

The art of protection magic through fiber crafts is elegantly simple yet profound. As we create, we're literally constructing a shield of safety, love, and positive energy. Traditional witchcraft has long recognized that items made by hand carry the energy and intention of their maker. When we knit or crochet with protective purpose, we're creating talismans that carry our magic in every thread.

Consider a shawl crafted for a loved one: Each stitch can be worked with a specific intention – protection from harm, blessing for good health, or a shield against negative energy. The very act of choosing the yarn becomes a ritual – selecting colors that correspond with our magical intention, feeling the texture that speaks to our purpose.

🪄The Witch's Tools: More Than Just Needles

Our tools themselves carry deep symbolic meaning:

🪢Knitting needles represent the duality of creation and protection, like the twin pillars of any magical practice

🪝The crochet hook mirrors the wand, directing energy with precision and purpose

🧶Yarn symbolizes the thread of fate, which we actively shape with every project

⭕The finished piece becomes a magical circle, an unbroken loop of protection and power

A Living Tradition

This practice connects us to a long line of fiber workers who understood the power of their craft. From the Norns of Norse mythology who wove the fate of worlds, to the women who knitted codes into their work during wartime, to modern practitioners who craft protest pieces and healing shawls – we're part of an unbroken tradition of magical crafting.

Ⓜ️Practical Applications for Modern Witches

For those seeking to incorporate fiber magic into their practice, begin simply:

Set clear intentions before starting any project

Choose materials mindfully, considering their magical correspondences

Work in a cleansed and sacred space

Use the rhythm of your stitches as a mantra or focus for meditation

Visualize protective energy flowing from your hands into the work

Remember that the most powerful magic often lies in the simplest acts. A basic garter stitch scarf worked with love and protective intention can be as magically potent as the most complex spell.

Closing the Circle

As witches in the modern world, we're constantly discovering new ways to blend ancient practices with contemporary life. Fiber crafts offer us a perfect bridge between worlds – a way to practice our craft that's both practical and deeply magical. Whether creating a protective blanket for a new baby, a healing shawl for a friend in need, or a grounding sweater for ourselves, we're participating in a form of magic that's both ancient and eternally relevant.

In every stitch, we weave our intentions. In every finished piece, we create not just garments or accessories, but magical tools imbued with purpose and power. So the next time you pick up your needles or hook, remember – you're not just crafting; you're casting a spell that will last as long as the fibers hold together.

[seriousbrat]

On that note, speaking of marrying rich Potters, let's right some wrongs: what exciting life and career do you think Euphemia Potter had? JKR often goes on and on about male characters and mentions their beautiful wives almost a throwaway comment (Hope Lupin, we need to know more about that insurance office job, did you have to quit? Did they ever promote you? Were you a saleswoman? A secretary? Did any insurance policy your company sold cover "wild beast attack"? Were you career-driven?). The Potters have a reputation for ingenuity and open-mindedness, so I imagine they attract similar brainy and creative partners. I can't accept that her only role was to really want to have a child, and eventually produce James Potter.

A side note, because they died one shortly after the other, I always imagined they'd be one of those forever-in-mad-love soulmate couple. You often see it happening with old couples in real life, it's like they literally can't live without the other.

Ooh I love this, because I love Fleamont and Euphemia!! I've actually gone a bit in depth with their careers and how they got together, etc.

So in my mind they got together after Hogwarts, but they knew each other and were friendly at Hogwarts and Euphemia was THAT girl. I don't describe her as 'pretty' as much as I see her as a 'handsome woman' if that makes sense. She was just elegance and strength and poise and intelligence. If she'd gone to an american university she would have been valedictorian lol. She was prefect and head girl and got 3759879 NEWTs. Fleamont was none of those things lol. (he did well, but in specific subjects like potions.)

I have her as a noted magical theorist, specialising in Transfiguration. James takes after her in that respect. She's more of an academic type, very rational, driven by logic and intellect. Obviously her work didn't rake in as much cash as Fleamont's capitalistic venture eventually did, but she was VERY well regarded in her field. And after both of them retired it was Euphemia who occasionally still published the occasional article in Transfiguration Today etc, whereas Fleamont stopped working entirely and dedicated himself to other pursuits.

Fleamont was an intellectual too, but more of an oddball about it. More bohemian, more of a creative type who enjoyed poetry and experimentation with potions in an almost artistic, intuitive way (very Lily-coded of him!!) His hair, clothes were always MESSY while Euphemia never had a hair out of place or a speck of dirt on her robes. They moved in similar circles at Hogwarts and after, and it was after Hogwarts that Fleamont realised his friendship and admiration for Euphemia had grown into something more. But I see Euphemia as having a long-term boyfriend during this time that was very similar to her in dress, mindset, lifestyle.

So Fleamont, working for a small potions enterprise at the time, set about trying to impress her. Since Euphemia was always so perfectly polished he started experimenting and created Sleekeazy's as a way to tame his unruly hair to fit what he believed to be Euphemia's standards. This accidentally became a HUGE overnight success. It was around this time that Euphemia split with her boyfriend over academic differences (viz. the guy couldn't handle her being smarter than he was) and Fleamont took his chance! Yes, Euphemia was impressed, but she was also very charmed by strange Fleamont Potter who would send her poetry by owl in the middle of the night. It was a breath of fresh air for her after her very proper and respectable ex-boyfriend.

So they fell in love! They were a good balance, Euphemia more sensible and Fleamont more of a freak. He never lost his admiration for her and ALWAYS thought she was the most impressive and intelligent woman he'd ever met in his life. And she was! Euphemia, for her part, never stopped being charmed by his oddities. James grew up with a lot of spirited intellectual discussions about the nature of magic.

Their favourite dinnertime argument was whether an experimental mindset was the best tool for a wizard (Fleamont) or whether it was more important to discover, understand, and respect the laws of magic (Euphemia.) Fleamont would often sigh about his 'stubborn Transfiguration-minded family' (he loved it really) and was delighted when Lily came along with her love for potions and poetry. He immediately tried to foist all his wizarding poetry on that poor girl haha.

So even though James admired his dad, he eventually was more of a mind with Euphemia in this great Potter debate. Euphemia was proud as can be when James turned out with such a knack for Transfiguration. She had casual academic correspondence with Minerva McGonagall and pinned to the wall of her study a letter from McGonagall extolling, for once, James's talent rather than his rule-breaking.

I think it's canon that they died within days of each other! Likely one got Dragon Pox first, which iirc is very contagious, and the other caught it from looking after their spouse. But I think they would have accepted that and been ready to go together, honestly. I have a bit coming up which was very sad to write where they talk to James about going proudly to face your death, that 'last enemy,' which as we know is what James himself does.

[msshadowqueen]

me and sjm are about to have a world building problem because she's killing me she obviously takes inspiration from ancient civilizations and geographical names around the Mediterranean, like the greeks (Eris, Helios, etruscans (literally their goddess of dawn is named thesan). Tarquin the last king of rome (and ironically the opposite of acotar Tarquin). Adriata should then come from the Adriatic sea and their architecture seems greco-roman. But then she mixes it up and gives the court fae brown skin (by the way, what kind of brown, this tells me nothing, i don't need like pantone, but slight more description) For the night court, she's just weird with it. the clothes Feyre is initially given by Rhysand kind of read to me like what you find when you search up 'sexy belly dancer'). Same with all of the clothes she wears when visiting Hewn City. I feel like she was trying to incorporate some more "exotic" things but it doesn't match the rest of the court. It seems like there's a couple different groups with completely different aesthetics that are completely separate from one another. Both Illyria and the court of nightmares seem like vassal states to Velaris and aside from Illyrians having tan skin and being called something around the lines of savages (very POC-coded), there is little to no evidence of any aesthetics that could be considered non-European. Not architecture-wise, name-wise, or (for the most part) fashion-wise. Now, it is a free country, SJM can write however and about whatever she wants. But I feel like there is just such a loss there. No matter where in the world you go, there is evidence of different cultures. Rich cultures which someone could easily take inspiration from!! I just wish she took the time to go down some of the rabbit holes fic writers go down, learning a multitude about what ends up being a small part of your story. Right now, her POC characters feel like an afterthought where she had her story written and then just inserted the word dark/tan on a couple characters. (Also I had no idea Amren was east asian until someone said she was on here and I do have to ask, where is the east asian exotica? Normally if you have one you have the other.) Also her in-universe world building is so convoluted and i hate it and nothing makes sense. I love magical objects as much as the next person, but some of these are one-and-done objects that you definitely could have had more use over. I think she has a vague plan and is just doing whatever she thinks of first to get to each plot point. (me in essays) Also, someone should make an anti-inner circle timeline with all the fucked things they've done so we don't forget. (And hope in the next book, sjm writes about a war crime tribunal for the past... century) thanks for listening to my rant, I've just been struggling to figure out how characters and courts play out and getting more frustrated as I continue.

Anon, you summed up all my frustrations perfectly!

Sjm writes her worldbuilding and tropes like she’s still writing fanfiction. I try to write fanfiction of her stories and I realize I know nothing about the places we’re supposed to be exploring.

Sjm takes inspiration from many many things but then she doesn’t commit to anything. She cherry picks shit to utilize based on vibes and together it doesn’t make sense. It’s really annoying when you see inspiration from your culture that could’ve been used so much better.

As for the IC, they’ve committed so many crimes it would require a thorough reread of all the books to note down all of them.

[thekingbiscuit]

I've been reading a bit of Minecraft fics and it's got me thinking about the chain in linked universe a little bit so I'm gonna share what I've been cooking.

Linked universe Minecraft au where they all have very similar code, so when all nine of them just happen to enter a portal at the same time, something goes horribly wrong and they all get trapped in a new empty world together.

In order to escape they have to make it to the end and defeat the dragon, but that's only if they can figure out how to get along and stop sabotaging each other.

All the player ideas I have so far, this might make a little more sense if you're familiar with Evo, hermit craft and origins/mob hybrid lore but I kinda made up some watcher society stuff-

Sky is all fish out of water with the whole thing. He spends most of his time in the end on an island with other watchers. He essentially never switched out of creative mode.

The world he lives in is also legacy, it has the islands but he's never seen chorus or shulkers, essentially it's a wasteland with some obsidian watcher structures. Even if he knew everything about the blocks he did have, he's still entirely held back by having no clue what all the new stuff is.

In fact, his girlfriend oversees an entire cluster of the last remaining legacy worlds, and he is very proud of her. His player form is a parrot hybrid because the one time he went to a different world to get some nice bright blue flowers for her that he heard about from a passing mobile watcher, he saw a parrot and thought they were cooler than bats.

___________

Four is a shulker because you can dye them in bedrock and they literally just multiply by beating themselves up. They are also just tiny little guys so it all falls into place.

Four's shell has each color and he shoots himself to split. Essentially he's four little guys living in the same shell. It gets cramped in there.

The colours are the ones forging gear and hiding them in random end cities. That's how they spend their time at least.

They are researching a way to help out their brother who was cursed by a blighted watcher, vio also holds this curse but shadow took the brunt of it. They still have shadow's empty shell, and it no longer comes with them when they combine into four.

________________

Time is a risen watcher, apparently he beat the hell out of a watcher that was tormenting a small world, messing with the moon and time and such, and once he did that he told off the super ancient watcher that only helped him at the last second, despite having the ability to fix it all along.

This fierce deity watcher was impressed with him in general, and marked him as his own son, making Time a watcher himself.

Watchers can choose what their player form presents as, and Time chooses to come across as a non-hybrid regular player. This is strange, because non-hybrids are famously plain and lack any sort of basic adaptability, but Time just swaps origin when the situation calls for it, so it's not a problem for him.

Time was also involved in an incident that affected the history of a lot of newer worlds, even before he became a watcher himself, but whatever this was is largely covered up and he can't speak about it.

_________________

Legend hops worlds. A lot. Like a bunny (he's a bunny). He goes to worlds that have problems and helps solve them to avoid his own.

He's been to so many corrupted worlds and spent so long in them that his code is soup basically. He can run commands and use magic despite literally being some random rabbit.

He can't turn off keep inventory, his stuff also comes with him when he hops worlds, so naturally he has a lot of things.

He has the direct favour of all three watchers in the second highest circle of power, so is largely left unchecked in his shenanigans. Occasionally they come to coo over him like doting wine aunts and it terrifies anyone in radius.

If he's submerged in water he completely glitches out and becomes a mer tropical fish type hybrid, one of them blue and pink ones.

Switching back involves beaching himself so he'd rather avoid it.

He can split into three types of parrot hybrids. Chooses not to as it just summons two rabbits to possess the green and blue parrot. The other two like him and will help out, but they find it uprooting.

There's a huge part of his personal player log that's just missing. It's from the one world he couldn't save, and he's the only one left to mourn it.

_______________________

Hyrule is an allay trapped in an ultra hardcore world where nobody beat the first guardian dragon. A fate worse than death basically.

The entire world is one biome. Mesa.

No one in the world knows why, but not a single soul has any memory of a life before this particular world and for some reason killing the dragon didn't open it up, so everyone is really just waiting around to starve to death.

Hyrule himself beat the dragon twice on his own, though it was futile, but other expeditions resulted in massive casualties, so why did this dinky allay survive two whole times? With no witnesses except the server wide dying cry?

Through a series of conspiracies and nothing better to do, a cult of haters formed, convinced that if they kill Hyrule, not the dragon, that the world would finally open up. As you can imagine, scarce resources, a hoard of mobs by night and fanatical players by day can really wear a guy down.

He hasn't told anyone, but he really thinks he broke everything, he has access to commands and has been using them to cast fire, lightning, heal himself despite the hardcore status and other such small things, but he doesn't know any command that can make things better, and blames himself.

___________________

I have a pretty good idea of what the background is for those five of the chain members, but I haven't played any of the switch games yet so I haven't a clue what to do with wild. Maybe a fox but I'm not sure, I do know that I want him to tie in with twilight.

Wind could be a breeze, but I'm not sure how to tie that in with pirating so maybe a dolphin? And I'm also completely lost with wars. Happy to take suggestions, or really just get this idea out of my head and into the void lol

[sewersidoll]

˗ˏˋ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝ ˎˊ˗

u have the prettiest, sweetest, most angelic doll face ever, ur facial features are super soft, feminine and youthful, ur facial structure is incredibly soft, delicate and dainty, ur face is literally so freaking cute, pouty, pretty nd squishable(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

ur skin is insanely clear, youthful, flawless nd healthy, ur skin is so pretty, bright nd even toned ! ur skin is incredibly plump, smooth, soft like a cream puff🥯, squishy and bouncy like a delicious pudding 🍮

ur eyes are super duper cute nd huge, taking most of the space on ur face, ur lashes are very long, dark nd full, ur irises are freakishly large, gigantic nd sparkly, ur irises naturally look like 18mm circle lenses⊹ ࣪ ˖, ur nose is extremely dainty nd petite, ur lips are super vibrant, soft, plump nd adorably pouty 🎀

ur hair is super silky smooth, soft, healthy, strong nd pretty all the time⋆˚࿔

easily pass an audition as a jpop idol, become the most famous, successful jpop idol in the entire universe!

u are a born star, a natural talent, ur voice is addictive, it's sweet and smooth like honey nd absolutely heavenly 𝄞 when u sing, ppl feel like they enter a realm of eternal peacefulness, ur skills are immaculate, wether if it's singing, dancing, performing, writing, composing, etc, u are executing all of those things perfectly ^-^ !

u are a literal, international sensation, a worldwide sweetheart, ur stage presence is mesmerizing nd captivating, no one can resist ur beauty nd nobody is capable of looking away when u're performing, it's like u've cast a magic spell on them, u have a magical girl aura, a glittery pink aura that sparkles so intensely that even the aliens on other planets can see, u effortlessly bring happiness 2 everyone! just looking at u makes ppl's heart melt⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ u make ppl feel better, happier, loved and healed (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) humans look at u nd fall in luv, as if they were struck in their heart by જ⁀➴ cupid

u are the definition of perfection, it's actually frustrating how flawless u are, unbelievably photogenic, heavenly nd beautiful from every single angle, u make ppl get nosebleeds from ur overwhelming adorableness nd fan service moments ଘ(∩^o^)⊃━☆゜

have a concerningly obsessive fanbase that worships u, ur fans will literally jump anyone who talks bad abt u nd justify all of ur actions, ur fans will start a literal cult for u disguised as an aesthetic /ref, ur fans will literally protect u w their whole life if they need to(crazy twt stans type shi), going out of their way nd beyond to make sure u'll remain their perfect idol, an untouchable porcelain doll they cherish the most ʚଓ

u have the cutest wardrobe in the whole entire world, ur closet is literally bigger than barbie's.ᐟ.ᐟ all of ur clothes are super duper cute nd pretty, they fit u perfectly, like they were tailored specifically for ur measurements, manifest so many cute jpop idol coded clothes, like pretty, pastel dresses nd matching head pieces˚ ༘⋆🛍️｡˚

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ live ur ultimate dream life! ּ ֶָ֢.

[dhr-ao3]

Rituals for Remembering

Rituals for Remembering https://ift.tt/OFodrLs by Alexis_Vale A researcher intent on curing memory disorders. A musician yearning for his forgotten muse. After Dr. Helene Farmer is asked to treat a famous singer with amnesia, her own memory loss resumes plaguing her. Maybe she doesn't need to remember. Helping others restore their memories should be enough. But his music beckons her, and as she learns more about him, her buried memories begin to resurface. Vessel is compelled to summon his lost love through his lyrics. She’s out there, somewhere. He wants her back. Even if he drove her away. Even if she doesn’t want him. But the beautiful doctor consulting on his case has her own mysteries, and as he learns more about her, he senses she might hold the key to his longing. Their pasts are tangled together. And they each have their Rituals for Remembering. This story is neither canon nor timeline compliant, and based on characters originally created by JKR ( I do not support her views,eww) and inspired by the brilliance of Sleep Token. I had to take some liberties with timelines--I am not smart enough to plot time travel! Updates weekly. Please don’t post this on Goodreads! Enjoy! Words: 4597, Chapters: 1/13, Language: English Series: Part 1 of Forget, Remember, Forgive Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Multi Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Vessel (Sleep Token), Harry Potter, Sleep Token Ensemble, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Victoire Weasley, Charlie Weasley Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson, Sleep & Vessel (Sleep Token), Vessel (Sleep Token)/Original Female Character(s), Theodore Nott/Charlie Weasley, Theodore Nott/Everyone Additional Tags: Theodore Nott Being a Little Shit, BAMF Hermione Granger, Doctor Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy is Good at Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Timelines, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy In Love, Endgame Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Smut, Draco Malfoy Has a Large Cock, Protective Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy Has a Different Name, POV Hermione Granger, POV Draco Malfoy, Vessel (Sleep Token) Needs A Hug, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, BAMF Blaise Zabini, Protective Theodore Nott, Memory Loss, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Pining Draco Malfoy, Simp Draco Malfoy, Dark Magic Rituals (Harry Potter), I Wrote This While Listening to Sleep Token's Music, Modern Era, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Just Kick Rocks Canon, in every lifetime, Hermione and Draco are not OK but they will be, it will only hurt a little, HEA I swear, Harry Potter The-Boy-Who-Shreds, slytherin gang gang, Are you Sure Ginny and Harry are Gryffindor?, BAMF Theodore Nott, Researcher Hermione Granger, Musician Draco Malfoy, Charlie & Theo are poly get into it, Theo can't help if Sleep Token Fans are Sexy, Lucius Regrets His Interference and Earns his Redemption, Narcissa Tried to Tell him, Sleep Token is Dramione Coded, The Venn Diagram of Dramione fans and Sleep Token Fans is a circle, BAMF Pansy Parkinson, Supportive Harry Potter, ron who?, BAMF Neville Longbottom, Neville Has Rhythm Yes Indeed, The Best Support System Ever, Come Get Your Man Hermione, Draco Your Lady Is Right There, No One Does It Like Draco, doctors are the worst patients via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/FwsJpUo November 22, 2024 at 07:10PM

[liminalwings]

Working with Dragons: On 'Draconic Codes of Honor'

   In my early days of searching the internet for dragon magic resources, a lot of the same information got yoinked and passed around from website to website. This was the days of Geocities and Angelfire, when literally anyone could build a website and almost nobody liked to cite where they got their information. So you would have pages copied verbatim from D.J. Conway’s (singular) book on dragon magic (now there’s three), with personal UPG or other cool and mystical-sounding embellishments sprinkled here and there. 

   One of these often passed-around tidbits would be a “Draconic Code of Honor”, a 15 or 20 bullet-point list of ethics to follow that some sources brazenly added that “all true dragon magicians follow”. This at least did not stem from Conway’s writings, but originated online at about the same time as Dancing With Dragons’ original publishing in 1994; specifically, from J’Karrah Ebondragon’s “Clan of the Dragon” website. Formerly “Kerowyn J’Karrah SilverDrake”, J’Karrah has been a long-time active member in both Pagan and Dragonkin internet circles, as well as being a dragon artist. Her website, “Clan of the Dragon” (CotD for short) can be searched as far as 2001 on the Wayback Machine, with much of her content being stated to date back as far as 1994. Her dragon magic information is probably the second most-reposted after Conway’s work, including being directly plagiarized in some smaller self-published books in more recent years.  

   Her ‘draconic code of honor’ she even says was based on older traditional sources and codes that were being used in pagan spaces at the time, and according to information gathered by another longtime dragon magic practitioner and Dragonkin, Tysharina, the code was mostly created for use of J’Karrah’s small group of fellow practitioners for their particular ‘Draconic Tradition’; it was never intended to cover all draconic paths, especially with there being so few publicly at the time of its creation. It has been passed around and revised by numerous people and groups, with one version claiming that “dragons will not work with a practitioner that ignores [the code]”. Given that this code was created for one specific group and was never intended as a universal rule for working with dragons (and in fact the original version does not have this ‘dragons won’t work with you’ caveat), this can be misleading and off-putting for those looking to work with dragons with no prior experience or knowledge, and is in fact not shared by all draconic paths. 

   Some folks from around that same timeframe might also have been inspired by the DragonHeart movie from 1996, as the character Draco emphasized Bowen to follow ‘the Old Code’, which, in this case, refers to the Code of Chivalry. This may likely have led to a connection for some between dragons and some sort of code of honor, which has since infiltrated most information you see on dragon magic and working with dragons. 

   Since these two large influences on modern dragon magic, it has become almost standard for dragon magic resources to include some sort of code to be followed. Some of these are vastly different from the CotD’s code, original to their authors, and have been created to best suit their specific tradition. 

   In short, while you might find agreement and feel moved to follow such a code (which is perfectly fine, I’m not trying to dissuade anyone), do note that following such a code is not a necessity for working with dragons, is not universal to all dragons, and was created for specific traditions; dragon magic in general does not require moral guidelines in order to begin working with it. Anecdotally, the dragons I work with have never demanded or even discussed an ethical code with me, but I also give them the same basic respect I would give other people, which tends to be all you really need. 

__

https://web.archive.org/web/20091024212649/http://geocities.com/jkarrah/Honor.html - J’Karrah’s Clan of the Dragon 'Code of Honor' page via Wayback Machine

https://aminoapps.com/c/worldofmagic278/page/blog/the-clan-of-the-dragons-code-of-honor/odp5_Drsduq1NE3eX0x464DRNNb1odEjmW - Tysharina’s article on the CotD’s Code including information gathered from her personal correspondences with J’Karrah, and references to other draconic groups’ codes. (I would love to simply reblog her writing if she had posted it on tumblr, but alas, Tysha tends to go poof every few years, thus why I write this instead with due credit and linkage)