.

Let’s talk about •••

••• Spirit Work

Pt.1/2

• Spirit Work 101

Spirit Work is a term that was coined very recently, mostly having an upsurge with the new age witchcraft in social medias - that is not to say that the practice of communicating with spirits is new, rather, that such a term can be used in an overgeneralized manner. That in turn leads to misinformation about the topic.

•• So, what is Spirit Work?

Broadly, it is seen as a witchcraft practice where a person uses their abilities to communicate with spirits - people who have passed, guides, ancestors and such. What the term doesn’t clarify is that there are a multitude of ways in doing that, from religious practices to self developed methods as well as the target audience of that spirit work.

Taking a look at the word spirit we find the first divergence of intent: those stated before all fall in the category of deceased human spirits; then we have those who through their animistic or similar beliefs include the spirits of animals and all beings (and “things”) who once lived. Then, we have another category, those that communicate with the otherworldly and nature centred beings that have passed (though most commonly those are still alive), such as the Fae. Others include communication with deities in this practice, and lastly, we have another modality of those that work with the essence of spirits, be they dead or alive - they are included for they too have soul. • This is the first break, and as such themes and different styles of practitioners can already be found, most commonly used are Mediums, Healers, Channelers, Communicators.

Outside of that, we have believers and followers of certain religions that also have this designated space for that type of communication, though I won’t go into detail for this, Norse Paganism, Spiritism and African Traditional and Descending Religions, are some of them.

••• So, no, it is not a bad thing that this practice has been disseminated and made accessible to all practitioners, witches, pagans and heathens out there - but one must always take a step back and analyze the information they have as well as the intent they will follow in this path.

Spirit Work is no game, it can have serious consequences and that should not discourage you to try - rather, encourage you to be attentive and take it seriously.

• What not to do

This here, at least for me (but feel free to add on or disagree, the beauty of the community are the different methods after all) - are some of the absolute don’ts when practicing Spirit Work, divided in two topics as there is a theoretical and a practical side to it.

• Theoretical

Don’t immediately go following any instructions, no matter if they explicitly are for summoning, inviting or channeling or just imply that it’ll make your communication with spirits easier.

Because: You need to be 100% aware of what exactly you are doing, though there are some good sources, it is always good to double and even triple check ingredients, intents and procedures before starting anything.

Don’t begin anything if you don’t have contingency plans and a way to clear a possible mess up.

Because: When doing this type of work, you are the only thing you have control of - spirits can be volatile, especially if you’re starting communication with ones you never had contact with before. Plan ahead and certify yourself that even if something goes out of what was expected you'll be able to deal with it.

• Practical

Don’t call forth anything that you have no idea what and who exactly it is.

Because: There are opportunistic spirits that excel in impersonating. If your intentions are unclear when channeling or inviting someone or something they can and will take the chance. Be clear about who you are working with.

Don’t be rude or insistent towards spirits.

Because: Spirits deserve respect, and as such, you won’t want to anger an immaterial being just because of impatience. Treat them as you would like to be treated. Being firm doesn’t mean being rude.

Don’t keep your sensitivity channel open, if you can.

Because: The Spirit World is everywhere, and it exists alongside our material World. When working with spirits you’ll see that there are moments you need to distance yourself otherwise the input will be constant. Learn how to control and lock your sensitivity as it is being developed to minimize bothersome encounters or overload of inputs.

Don’t do your Spirit Work in any place - reserve a specific place for it.

Because: Not only is this a sign of respect towards the spirits you’ll be communicating with, but it also makes it easier for you to control, cleanse and protect that environment.

•• How to

Preparation and Protection

After that many Dont´s, we finally go towards the Do´s. Let me get this right, I by nature am extremely paranoid, and due to that I find preparation and protection essential to control variables, be confident and to keep calm - like this, I don’t fear the unknown nor the uncontrollable because one way or another I'm ready for it.

Now, once again, these preparatory and protective steps will depend a lot on what method of Spirit Work you’re practicing, but some of them are pretty universal and these are the one’s I’ll be passing on to you.

• To Prepare

A spirit worker's body and spirit must always be clear, attentive and sensible. To prepare you must do whatever rituals pertain to your practice, that prepare you emotionally, psychologically and spiritually to deal and work with spirits.

This might include meditation, trance work, cleansing rituals and so on - this takes off the layer of mundane impressions that could marr your interpretation and leave you like a clean slate through which the Spirit’s voice can be clearly understood.

Your working space should also be clean on any influencing energies, organized and quiet enough (or loud enough depending on your vertent) for you to focus solely on the presence you’ll be working with.

I particularly find that asking for permission and guidance from my guides always makes this preparation process easier, as that is their realm and their ponctuations, advice and warnings are always welcome.

• Being Protected

There are three points of protection: Your Body (which is the conductor of your energy), Your Mind (which contains your Spirit - though not all beliefs follow this) and Your House (or de place you do your Spirit work).

These three should be duly protected and warded as you see fit before you start your spirit work. Methods for those vary as they can be easily found around the internet, in books and such. I wouldn’t be able to tell you which method of protection and warding you’ll prefer, which you’ll absolutely trust to work and which will be ideal to your specific target audience with spirit work but, one advice: Never share all ingredients nor steps of your protection and warding spells.

You may realize that I rarely, if ever, post spells. The answer is simple: any spell can be counteracted, especially if people know everything you used.

And trust me when I say that these protection and warding spells of your for Spirit Working are ones you wouldn’t like to be tampered with.

•••• 👁 ••••

For now that’s it, this post was very broad as I talked about general warnings and things of importance that precede the practice of Spirit Working. It’ll be a short series of posts, with only two.

The second one will be more action centered, most likely bigger with explanations of what to do in each case of spirit working. Till then, yeah?

-Lou

Hi there

A little while ago I attempted to work with Loki through my altar. I was giving him daily offerings of juices or water and I carved his name into a red candle that I’d occasionally burn. I felt like it was going well at first.

I told a Wiccan friend of mine and he told me it was a horrible idea as I never worked with any deity before and it’s a very intense thing. He told me he’s been a practicing Wiccan for about 6-7 and still doesn’t feel ready to work with a deity. He also told me it’s dangerous as I could’ve summoned a demon that was pretending to be Loki. I decided to stop working with Loki out of fear so I lit his candle until it burnt out, taking apart my altar once that happened.

However, I’ve felt very draw to Loki again. I’ve been burning dragon’s blood incense as a way to acknowledge him on the daily. I feel I’m ready to start trying to work with him again but I’m not sure what to do. I’ve been seeing a lot of beetles/ladybirds lately and I have a strong feeling it’s a sign.

I need advice on specifically what to do, like what should I use on my altar? How do I know that both Loki and I are ready to communicate? Do I have to be careful of impersonators? If it’s not Loki who’s sending signs how do I find out who is?

I don’t have access to any pengalims or tarot decks but I can buy things like incense and candles, possibly crystals. I do have a few rocks and the table that my altar is on can be written on with whiteboard marker

Thank you!

Hey anon. There's actually more than a few asks somewhat similar to this in the inbox, and a few good existing posts on the subject, so I'm going to start by linking those:

"Do I have to 'work' with Loki to be a Lokean or can I just worship him? And is it safe for beginners to worship deities?"

"Is deity work/worshipping dangerous in some way or do i need some sort of protection (spell jars etc.) before starting to work with Loki?"

"So, uh, what religion are Lokeans, anyway?" (an older post and as it says, non-exhaustive, but good examples of variance in approach)

A good condensed "starter" post (links to the FAQ for further info)

The #basic informational tag is a really good place to poke around in as well for the more general "how to start" suggestions. To get back to the main "is it safe" question, though, the summarized version is that it's really not much different than a lot of things in life: it depends exactly what you're doing. Just venerating a deity isn't going to require that, but "deity work" is a broad enough term that I don't know what you or your friend specifically mean with regards to that term and in the end, decisions about protection or ultimately your relationship with Loki will fall to you. That said, you're expressing the desire to start trying again here and doing the daily incense thing already, so probably the best additional advice I can offer is that you don't have to rush anything. There's nothing wrong per se with incense or cool rocks or other tools/accoutrements, but there's absolutely no requirement to have them unless later on you personally run into a situation where it's a need. By that of course I also don't mean that you should feel limited to something that only comes up in medieval sources or is common amongst devotees, or that "need" needs to be anything more than "I'd like to learn more about X and need Y to do it;" my point is more that there's actually no specific checklist, shopping or otherwise, to start. There are some great examples in the first two linked posts up there of contexts or work where there's more to think about and possibly do on that front, and our communication and discernment megapost has a lot of good information on everything from ways to communicate to keeping yourself safe. Signs are another one of those things that we can't really interpret for you, but the info in those tags should be helpful in giving some ideas for following up on it yourself if you'd like. But really, what you do is up to you, which I know might seem kind of like an unhelpful answer, but realistically I just hope it takes some pressure off. Like, right now, it sounds like you're doing daily offerings, thinking and learning more about how a relationship with him might work in your life, and considering adding things like an altar and communication techniques to your practice. I obviously have a limited amount of knowledge here, so you may well be able to add to that summary, but honestly, it sounds... like a pretty solid plan that you might not have even known you had, with plenty of room for flexibility. Not a bad start IMO, and maybe a phrasing that gives you some suggestions for focus-- less "you have a lot to do," and "you've got a lot of choices," maybe. In any case, best of luck, and if you have more specific questions feel free to let us know. -Mod V

Can I ask what's wrong with Michael W Ford's books? I never read them but I've seen often people recommending them, so I'm curious. Thank you and have a nice day.

Thanks for the question! Sorry if this gets a little long, TL;DR is at the bottom but I've broken down some more specific examples in point form.

I'll preface this by saying that if people get something worthwhile from Michael W Ford's books, that's their business and I'm happy for them. However, there's a few things about his writing and him as a person that I don't really love and struggle to get behind. Most of the specific textual examples I give are from the Bible of the Adversary specifically, as it's one of his more famous books and the only one I personally have had the mental fortitude to page through so far.

- I'm immediately leery of anyone who's often described as a "visionary" or "luminary" on websites selling or listing their books, especially when I've gotten the feeling that it's just that his books are accessible and plentiful. Even among fans of authors like E. A. "Become A Living God" Koetting, the general opinion seems to be that his books lack a lot of consistency and are a bit poorly written. Can confirm for the Bible of the Adversary, at least. There's some parts of that thing that could have used a once-over by an editor.

- I try very hard not to use what happened to the Greater Church of Lucifer/GCoL against him. Another member of the community that I do still (loosely, infrequently) interact with was also involved, and while I sincerely wish they'd both more deeply researched the man they were signing up to run a very public and scrutinized church with, I think his turning into a scam artist who publicly converted to Christianity was enough punishment there. Likewise, I'm a bit uncomfortable with his past involvement with the Order of Nine Angels/ONA/O9A given the fact that they're a pack of murder advocating nazis, but apparently he left when he discovered that fact, so I try to give him the benefit of the doubt that he truly did distance himself from them immediately upon learning of their beliefs, as I don't know when these things became more widely known. However, both of these fumbles alongside how he presents himself and his books just don't sit well with me, as the most generous interpretation is that he was twice-misled in some pretty dangerous and harmful ways by those that are damaging to the public perception of Luciferianism, but still likes to be some figurehead of the Luciferian community. People make mistakes, and people can be misled, and people can learn from past experiences, but his track record is a bit upsetting for a supposed authority.

- His work includes pieces and ideas from occultists or practices that I tend to avoid in my own practice and study, such as Thelema and Crowley's writing as a whole, inspiration taken from the Temple of Set/Setian magic, Qlipoth (because it wouldn't be a Luciferian grimoire without pilfered Jewish mysticism), and forms of Gnosticism that embrace the idea of God as an evil demiurge (which i explained my discomfort with in my previous post). I'm also not a huge fan of his "all magic comes from within" approach (and find it hard to reconcile with his frequent use of Luciferian deities/spirits and demons), nor that he'll talk about Cain's role in "Luciferian grimoires" without actually naming any... though given how similar a piece of Lilith themed artwork he's done looks to Andrew Chumbley's illustration, I assume he means the sort of books the Cultus Sabbati was writing. I wish I still had the Ford version saved or could remember which of his books it's from, the side by side comparison is painful but without it I risk looking like I'm making things up.

- Heavy, heavy use of Lilith, which I don't love for reasons I outlined before. She mostly seems to appear whenever spooky lustful sex magick is being discussed, which is great, that's great.

- He also uses the Wiccan wheel of the year sprinkled in among his more Luciferian focused holy days, which is just really funny to me. Why are we celebrating Beltane, Michael? Why are we celebrating Imbolg? (Page 69)

- He likes to use a lot of "black magic" and "vampyre magic" stuff which tends to feel very sensationalized and over the top to me. I've seen discussions of vampiric magic I found very interesting, but so far his hasn't been one of them.

- He sometimes seems to conflate Lucifer with Samael which I really truly dislike, though it's admittedly not the most baffling or out of left field take I've seen.

- Ford at times seems to either willfully misrepresent or misunderstand information he's passing along. For example, in the Bible of the Adversary he says that Cain's name comes from "...root ‘Kanah’ which means to possess. This by itself presents the antinomian nature of his essence, while instead of sacrificing his most bountiful items to the Lord, he kept them for himself." As I understand it, discussion surrounding Cain's name possibly coming from the Hebrew word קנה (kana) lean more into it being the word for to get or to obtain, referencing Eve's declaration after his conception that she'd gotten a man from the Lord. I'm all for alternate interpretations, but it feels like needless edgy-fying to fit the narrative he's trying to present. (Quote from Page 58)

- He'll say some absolutely bonkers shit like "Abel in some Luciferian Lore is considered a lower pre-form of Cain, thus the sacrifice was not literal" with zero citations or references. Like sir what the fuck does that mean, what Lore, please give us the lore please. (Footnote, Page 59)

- His interpretation of the Watchers and the Book of Enoch is so insultingly bad that I won't even relay it here, but if I see one more person claim that an angel, demon, or spirit they want to distance from Christianity or Judaism is actually a Babylonian god I'm going to go feral.

- As I've hinted at above, it feels like he'll just cherry pick and regurgitate for no real purpose. A few spirits from other texts like the Lesser Key and the Grimoire Verum get mentioned for... mostly the set of names, it seems like, he just kind of lists them out of context.

TL;DR, Michael W Ford feels (to me at least) like someone who has picked out the more appealing and edgy occult trivia and magic he could find from a wide range of sources, recontextualized the parts that didn't appeal to him until they fit his aesthetic and purposes, and presented them as a workable entry point to the Luciferian religion and its potential magical systems that is all flash no substance... and then could barely polish the flash. I don't like that he's many people's first exposure to the concept of theistic Luciferianism, and I don't like how authoritatively he presents his jumbled works as what the religion is truly about when it's so broad a label. Again, if there is something that someone finds useful within his books I am very happy for them, but I have struggled to find anything I could point to that make them worth the read... even for me to investigate further keep critiquing.

I honestly do not know why so people recommend them, unless it's just that they're easy to buy, reasonably inexpensive, and specifically have the Luciferian label on them. If that's truly the case, those people are being lazy and uncritical in a way that doesn't speak well to their apparent Luciferian ideals.

Cleansing, blessing, and protection basics

If you are new to witchcraft this guide is for you, but even if you are seasoned in the craft I still think it’s a really good idea to read other witches posts for new ideas and inspiration!~ Cleansing is such an important practice for anyone, not just witches. It is very commonly seen in many different cultures and religions worldwide and is practised in many different ways depending on the tools being used. Cleansing can be done with the help of deities or spirits, or it can be done in a secular way as well with reliance on your own energy or tools. Some people have different beliefs around when cleansing should be done and what rituals should be done at different times of the year. My path is one that works with the natural flows of energy around me, and I call upon deities and spirits to help me in my workings. I cleanse as I feel it is needed, and during the new moon period as well. However, you can adjust your practices to suit your own path and what makes you feel happiest.

Reasons to cleanse and when it should be done: Cleansing is so important for many reasons. It gets rid of heavy emotional energy, it prevents us from being influenced by unwanted energies, it gets rid of negative entities, and it helps to protect us in some cases, depending on what you are doing. You might want to cleanse when there has been a fight, or when an activity has been repeated in an area (like stress in a workplace) and a residue of the emotions felt while doing that activity has been left.  Another time to cleanse would be after someone has been sick. It is best to wait until the person has become well again because if you cleanse while they are resting in their sick room and you use smoke you may make them feel more unwell. Once they are better again, it is good to go into the room they were resting in and give it a good cleanse to banish evil spirits and fumigate. Overall though, it is good to give things a cleanse even if nothing negative has happened. Spiritual people don’t always feel wonderful and magical all the time, and we aren’t immune to creating bad energy. Sometimes you come home and you’ve had a bad day, or you might just be tired, or you feel angry, stressed, etc. Maybe you’ve had a party and all your friends left their energy in your house. Even if nothing happened, this everyday stuff just builds up and needs to be removed every now and then. This is why it’s often good to set a regular cleansing time, such as the monthly new moon as well. Things that can be cleansed Pretty much anything can be cleansed. Commonly though, people cleanse their homes, their bodies, other people, objects, spiritual tools, and charms. There is really no end to what can be cleansed, and there is no end to what can pick up negative energy. Even your phone could pick up negative energy, and you then carry that around everywhere and touch it non-stop, allowing it to affect you. Tarot cards and other divination tools I would actually suggest to cleanse more often than other tools because they tend to pick up negative energies faster.  What you can use to cleanse Smoke- This is one of the most common methods for cleansing, and you can use bundles of dried herbs, resins, or incenses to do this. You just need to light them up and waft the smoke around whatever is being cleansed. Cleaning your house- Clutter, dirt, mould, and mess attract bad energy that likes to hang in your laundry pile. Cleaning also helps us feel a lot less stressed, making room inside of you to experience healing energies. Don’t forget that mould and other ugly things can make you sick and affect your mental health as well, so it is very important to keep yourself and your home clean. Water- In some cultures water is considered to be very sacred and purifying, and is utilized by taking cleansing baths and showers, washing the body or objects that are being cleansed, floor washes, and just by sprinkling. Be careful with this one though, because if you do not dry some surfaces they may become mouldy. Some types of crystals and natural materials like bones and wood don’t really like water and may become damaged from it. It is better to cleanse these with salt or smoke. Fire- Again, in some cultures, fire is considered very sacred and holy. You do not need to burn your house down to achieve this. Be careful with this one, because you do not want to become a crispy sausage. But fire can be represented in smoke cleansing, or it can be used to banish things by burning something that represents what it is that you wish to get rid of. I often find that speaking or praying over a flame and asking help from fire to remove something will result in massive energetic changes- especially long term. Please ensure to never leave a fire unattended- this is basic common sense but you’d be surprised how many people don’t follow this!  Air- A cool breeze can work wonders to clear energy! It’s so nice to open your windows and doors and let the cool air flow through the home.  Salt- We all know salt preserves things from bacteria and other nasties, but it also has a very electrical charge almost, it carries a lot of powerful energy. So it is really good for cleansing, especially when entities are around. I like to keep some by my bed to keep entities away from me while sleeping and to prevent bad dreams. Sound- Sound is really powerful, especially because we know that sound carries vibrations and can carry them far. Bells, singing bowls, drums, your voice, clapping, youtube healing frequency videos, chanting, and prayer are all really amazing at cleansing things. Heck, even pots and pans can be bashed together to clear entities. I also sometimes feel like spirits are sleeping, so I usually wake them up with gentle bells. Mists and floor washes- Again, water here, but usually, this is a good option if you can’t burn things. Beware again though, that you don’t leave things wet otherwise they can grow mould and as I said before, some types of crystals and natural materials like bones and wood don’t really like water. Usually, though, these are just water mixed with something such as essential oils, herbs, crystals or salt etc, which have been chosen to imbue the water with a certain element or property. These are then spritzed with a spray bottle around or on whatever you are cleansing. Floor washes can be mopped or thrown over the floor. Oils, alcohols, floral waters, and vinegar- Essential oils such as peppermint, myrrh, frankincense, eucalyptus, and myrtle are really good for cleansing things, especially if you cannot use smoke again. Diffusing essential oils is also a very common practice outside of the spiritual community so this might be a good option if you aren’t able to be so open about your path.  Alcohols such as Florida water are often used in cleansing, but keep in mind that some people consider Florida water to belong to closed cultures. Some people, however, disagree with this. But, you can always make your own floral waters for cleansing or you can buy them from essential oil manufacturers as a byproduct of essential oil production. You do not need to use Florida water if you are concerned about appropriation here. Floral waters are often sold by essential oil wholesalers, as they are usually sold to cosmetic manufacturers for use in moisturizers and balms. You can buy rose water or orange blossom water from Middle Eastern supermarkets, or if you are lucky enough they might be available in your local supermarket as well. Vinegar is really good to cleanse and also for cleaning. You can mix lemon and tea tree essential oil into vinegar, and these together are really good for cleaning and removing unwanted energy around the home. Vinegar is also good for banishments.  Some basic and good ways to cleanse a home: When cleansing a home, pay attention not only to the rooms but especially to the doors, windows and any mirrors. A lot of things are happening energetically in those spaces and they are usually hot spots for activity. Using salt and water: To cleanse a home with these, sprinkle water around the walls, and place a small sprinkle of salt in each corner of every room. You can also place salt along the front of a door, or along a windowsill. Sometimes though, salt can damage paint so don’t leave it on painted surfaces for too long. You can also paint protective symbols over the door and window frames with the water. Using smoke from herbs, resins or incense: To cleanse using these, take the smoke around to each room and move it in an anticlockwise circle three times. Also make sure to waft a lot of smoke around doors, windows and mirrors.  Sound and prayer: You can go around each room with instruments, or you can sing over or speak over your home to cleanse it. If you choose to pray, make sure to state what needs to be removed, and what will happen within that space instead. Eg. “May all anger, hurt, stress, and any other unwanted energies leave this space. May this room be safe, still, and peaceful, and may we experience joy, laughter and happiness in this room.” How do I know if there are entities in the room? If you are practised enough in sensing energies you will know straight away. However, if you are a beginner please keep in mind that your fear of entities alone can mean that you might believe there is an entity in your home even when there isn’t, or your fear might even attract one. Sometimes we can also fall prey to the power of influential words, and a psychic or someone else who senses energies might claim that you have a spirit in your home and then you will start seeing signs for its existence even if nothing is there. Even if the psychic didn’t pick up on a negative entity, but just said the word “spirit”, many people have different interpretations for this word based on religious beliefs, influence from movies and pop culture, etc. You may have misunderstood. In fact, there are a lot of spirits around us all the time, ancestral spirits, household spirits, plant and animal spirits- and not all of them mean harm. But some people interpret the word spirit to instantly mean the worst. Mould can also affect your mental health and if it has made you unwell enough it can make you hallucinate and see entities or experience haunting activity. Check for things like this before worrying and stressing yourself unnecessarily. If you had an entity that meant harm, you would just know. And until you experience the sense of “just knowing” this kind of thing, you probably will not understand what I mean here.  Energy flowering and blessings Once you have cleansed a space and depending on what you used to cleanse, the space or object might feel like a blank canvas. You need to do what is called energy flowering or charging to reconfigure the energy of a space or item. Energy flowering is usually done with floral waters, resins, crystals, or incense sticks. Bundles of herbs are used mostly for cleansing, but depending on the herb they can be used for flowering as well. But in my personal opinion herb bundles are best for cleansing only. Salt or soil can also be used for this- as I said before salt seems to carry a very electrical feeling energy, and soil from the earth can also be used to recharge objects. Resins are really good for raising vibrations and creating healing and beautiful emotional energies.  To recharge with incenses or resins, waft the energy around the home but in clockwise circles and if possible use your dominant hand. You can also hold objects like tarot cards or crystals in the smoke or you can waft the smoke towards yourself or someone else. Cinnamon, sandal, frankincense, myrrh, and dragons blood are really good for this purpose.  To recharge with floral waters, you can wash objects in them, or you can sprinkle them around the walls, doors, and windows. Altar spaces and deity images usually really like this type of cleansing. To recharge objects with soil, bury them until they feel ready. Make sure to leave yourself a marker on the ground so you know where they are buried. If you live in an apartment, you can definitely bury things in a pot of soil. If you cannot get soil you can also leave objects on a bed of salt for as long as needed. To recharge using crystals, place the crystal you want to use over the object or within the space and leave it for as long as needed. Clear quartz is a good energy conductor and will bring intense universal energies down. Copper is also really good for conducting energy, so if you have any copper items they can help recharge an item or space as well. Blessings A blessing ritual is a really lovely way to give a room, a person, or an object your goodwill, and also to call down the highest good upon something. You can make a charm to bless someone, you can pray or speak over someone or something, or you can also anoint objects, places, or people with sacred oils. This is also where some fun stuff like glitter, colourful threads, beads and other cool stuff can work its way into your magic. A basic blessing ritual for a person White, pink, and green candles Rose water Salt Rice Anointing oil Honeysuckle incense A bowl of water, soap and a towel.

Create a small mixture of salt, rice, and your anointing oil. Keep some of these ingredients separate and to the side. Wash the hands of the person you are blessing with the rose water, and rub the salt, rice, and oil mixture into their hands gently. They can rest their hands for a bit until the ritual is done. Sprinkle their head with the rose water, and offer rice and salt to them in the direction of their mouth (they don’t have to eat it so don’t shove it in their mouth lol) and also to the each side of their temples and the top of their head (you just need to hold it in your hand and point it in the directions listed above). Waft the incense around them three times clockwise, and offer the candles to them by moving them in a clockwise circle three times as well around the person. As you are doing this you can say out loud or in your heart “May you be well, may you be protected, and may you be free from suffering.” Think of everything good that you wish for this person as you are doing this ritual.  Anoint their forehead at the hairline with the oil. You can then offer them the soap, water and towel for them to clean their hands once all this is done. The ritual is complete! Making charms for blessing and protection You can make charm bags and fill them with all sorts of fun stuff like colourful glitters, sequins, crytals, herbs, meaningful items, images of deities, or handwritten prayers or sigils. Colourful glitters are cool because glitter is fabulous, and all the colours have meanings associated with them so you can pick the colours based on what you want to achieve. You can also make yourself some jewellery, and if you want to you could use religious icons or images in your jewellery, or choose colourful beads that represent certain ideas, archetypes, or deities.  Other charms can also be candles or herbs for example. You could hang dried herbs around the home, or you can anoint a candle with an oil of choice and it will act as a charm. You can also anoint jewellery with oils. Making a charm from jewellery Select a piece of jewellery. It is better if it is made of something like gold or silver, as fashion jewellery can become damaged from oils of whatever you might use. Beadwork should be fine. You can make this into a ritual if you like, or you can keep it simple. Personally, I like to keep things simple when it comes to making charms, but each to their own. You can remix this however you like to suit your needs.  Before you start, I believe it is respectful to ask the object if it wants to become a charm. Even inanimate objects contain the spirit of the universe or contain a consciousness. You cannot force it to serve you, so please ask respectfully if it is happy to help you. You will sense the answer with your intuition, or you might experience other phenomena such as synchronicities, seeing or sensing colours or energy, or hearing something. Just listen patiently. If it says yes, wash the object in water to purify it and leave it on a bed of salt for a hot minute. Light some candles with the colour that corresponds to your intention, and burns some incense. Anoint the charm in a blessing oil, and ask it to carry this intent for you. You can pray over it or speak over it what you intend for this charm. Give the offerings of candles and incense to the charm and thank it for helping you. It is respectful to bow before the object while giving it thanks.

It is now ready to wear, but you might want to clean it off. I can’t imagine jewellery with caked-on salt looks too nice. Creating protective charms for the home Religious iconography near doorways is a really good option if you are able to openly display these. Some cultures make protective charms from certain objects like horseshoes, chilli peppers, bells, lemons, sigils, or similar items from temples and shrines. In each case, it is again respectful to ask the object if it wants to help you.  You can do a similar ritual to the above, or you can make your own charms for the house. Basil charm to call down holy fire Basil is a herb I use in spiritual healing because I find it often has a very fiery energy that can really intensely open up and allow universal energy to flow. It is very simple to make, all you need to do is dry a bunch of basil. Ask if it is happy to serve as a charm for the home. If it says yes you can hang it in the home up high above the head, and preferably in the main room such as a lounge room so that everyone can be influenced.

Bay leaf doorway charm Sew some dried bay leaves together in a chain, big enough to fit the measurements of the door frame you wish to place it over. Once the length of the chain is big enough for the door, ask the object if it wants to serve you. If the answer is yes, hang it above your door frame. This will protect evil spirits from entering the home and will bring luck and abundance to those inside.  Jar of holy salts for the bedside Combine sea salt in a jar with oils such as peppermint, frankincense, orange and lavender. You can mix in some of the same dried herbs if you like as well. Ask the object if it wishes to serve you, and if yes place it by the bed. This is a protective charm that will ensure a peaceful sleep without being bothered by bad dreams, negative entities, or anything else that you want to keep away. I had a friend who had a terrifying experience of having his name yelled at him by some sort of spirit just as he sat down to sleep. This charm has helped him feel calm and protected and he has not experienced the issue since.

Maintaining charms Charms do not want to be forgotten. They can often become spiritually blank or deadened and will be unable to continue their purpose if they are not cared for. They need love, they are a consciousness that wishes for its own happiness. One of the best ways to keep charms happy I find is to talk to them and build a relationship with them. In the morning when I do my regular incense burning and candle lighting I also give them offerings as well, by going around the house and waving the incense and candles towards them. I might also re-anoint them when needed. I find that if the object is respected as being holy and as being part of the family it will continue to happily serve the home. Don’t forget this step to give your charms love and treat them as if they are alive with consciousness!  ♥ Building a relationship with the spirits of the home and land for protection Just as charms contain a consciousness, so do all inanimate and animate objects in the home and on the land which your home resides. It is good to honour these spirits and energies with offerings, and they can, in turn, be called upon to protect the home. I always leave incense burning in a safe place outside as an offering to the spirits of the land and home, and as I do so I ask for their protection upon the home. Over time, you will be able to sense their energies more and they will begin to surround you and protect you. You do not need to do much here except allow time and routine to do the work for you. 

I have NEWS y’all

I lit a candle earlier today and the flame went absolutely bonkers, like dangerously tall, for a few seconds and then calmed down. I was like “okay who the fuck?” and immediately asked if someone was trying to communicate with me. The flame flickered a ton and so I established a yes and a no and long story short, the Norse god of poetry and music, Bragi, was trying to warn me about Loki. I put the candle out without clarifying what his warning meant (bc I was frazzled and didn’t think to ask) and went for a walk.

Now, I had gone for a walk the previous day too and saw an 8 of Spades just on the sidewalk. It really stuck out to me so I looked it up and it was a general warning sign. When I went for my walk after the candle thing happened, I saw another card I had somehow missed the day before. 8 of Diamonds, associated with unpredictable energy. I’m freaking out at this point right? So I get back home and I’m asking some witches I know for help and someone suggested I do a tarot reading and ask my deities or spirit guides for help.

So I cast a circle in my room, only allowed in Bragi (in case he wanted to clarify), Freyja, and any guardians I have. I relit the candle from before but not much happened this time. I lit another apple and its flame was going absolutely bonkers. I eventually put it out because I asked if there was anyone trying to talk to me and it just didn’t change how it was flickering so I assumed there was just a weird breeze or something. More on that one later.

I asked Freyja to guide my tarot reading and I asked three questions and drew one card for each. I asked for confirmation that it was Bragi I spoke with (it was), I asked what Bragi could have been warming me about (it was hard to explain the answer, but I know what it means), and I asked what Loki could want with/from me (inner battles).

As I was interpreting these cards, the candle Bragi used to speak with me started flickering. I established a yes and no and it was Bragi again. I told him about my tarot readings and asked questions to understand what exactly his warning was about. Long story short, Loki wants to work with me and help me with my shadow work (which I just decided I would delve into this morning), and Bragi was warning me not about Loki bringing me harm or anything, but that Loki won’t make things easy for me, but that it will help. I thanked Bragi and told him I would write him a poem in return for his help (which he seemed very excited about lol), and I put out the candle.

I immediately opened Instagram to tell my coven what happened and the first thing I saw in my feed was a post about Bragi! Needless to say I’m very excited about all of this lmao.

Back to that other candle. I don’t have any lamps in my room yet (I’m a bit broke lmao), so I was trying to read a book by candlelight in there. I had the window cracked and a light breeze was coming through and I assumed that was making the candle go crazy. But it was going nuts for like 30 minutes. I couldn’t read by this candle since the flame was flickering too much. I figured it could be a deity, but I wasn’t feeling up to trying to talk, so I basically said “hey, whoever you are, please pick another time to try to talk to me” and put out the candle (though it didn’t want to go out). It was that EXACT SAME CANDLE that was going nuts today too. I think it was Loki just letting me know he’s here to flip shit on its head. It makes sense that he wouldn’t respond to my questions too.

Anyways, all in all, I’m nervous but excited 😊

I really love your Hades au! The drawings are so well done and look lovely and the details you thought of are really interesting and well thought out and it makes me happy (except Nyx’s punishment, poor Zag)

Thank you so much!!! I’m so glad you enjoyed my art I’m glad you like the idea too! Poor Zag really does have a rough time in this au... Sorry for replying to this so late, I’ve been swamped with work recently, which is a shame because I’ve been chomping at the bit to make more stuff for this. But here, I do have a drabble for your troubles, and also the reason why I’ve been calling it the God of Ash au :D

(I also posted it to ao3 because why not, I guess. You can read it there, if you want)

“Asterius’s amiability won’t do any good, I fear; he takes his role of Champion too seriously to give any leeway. Suppose he feels he has to earn his place here, though I think he deserves it far more than Theseus- gods know he’ll never back down.”

Patroclus tsks softly. “For a certainty. See, you should have listened to me when I said that you’d make a far better champion. If you’d bested them and taken their place, you could give the stranger a free pass. When will you realize that I’m always right?”

Achilles releases a breathy laugh, gold curls flitting about him as he shakes his head. “Somehow, I don’t think that would have been quite so simple a solution. Though it’s always tempting when I imagine what Theseus’s face might look like if he was ever dethroned.”

The corners of Patroclus’s mouth twist up at the mental image. He leans further against Achilles where they sit on a low retaining wall in their familiar little glade. He idly winds and unwinds a lock of his hair around his fingers, soothed by the smooth slip of the strands over his skin.

“Perhaps it won’t be long now till he is,” Achilles posits thoughtfully. “The lad hasn’t given up yet.”

Patroclus tilts his head and meets Achilles’ eye out of the corner of his own. “You really think he can make it past the arena?”

His beloved shrugs lightly. “It seems like he can make as many attempts as he wants, can keep going unless his resolve fails him. I think it might be possible. I wouldn’t be-” The abrasive grind of the door sliding open interrupts rudely. “Well. Maybe not possible this time around.”

Patroclus turns to follow Achilles gaze across the chamber.

Zagreus stumbles over their little bridge, smiling tiredly despite his bedraggled state. Blood paints his temple from where it oozes from some wound hidden in his hair. The skin of his right shoulder is red and swollen, broken in some places, and Patroclus suppresses a wince at the thought of the bruise that would form, though he knows it will never get the chance. Cuts and scrapes mar his arms. He walks with a limp, though Pat can’t see the source.

He looks quite worse for wear. Patroclus informs him of such.

Zagreus laughs graciously, stumbling more over the last few steps towards them, seeming to go slack and relieved in their secure and sheltered glade. “I’m afraid you’re right,” he admits, the cadence of his voice sweet and earnest. “It’s not been the best of attempts.”

He glances at Achilles sheepishly. “Sorry sir, I’m not sure if I’m up for your- training pointers this time around.” He fumbles for the awkward words, apparently still unsituated and disbelieving in the face of Achilles’ advice, which he started to give a couple encounters ago.

“No worries, Zagreus,” he assures lightly. “They’re only meant to help you along, anyways, not to beat you down more.”

Pat hums gently and blinks lazily at the stranger. “Yes. Here take this,” he gestures to his usual offerings, “and take a moment, too, before going on your way.”

Zagreus’s smile reaches his eyes more at that and he takes the Kiss of Styx with a pretty dust of light pink across his cheeks. “As always, I can’t thank you enough, sir.” Patroclus rolls his eyes dramatically, but he’s not sure the stranger sees it as he dips his head politely.

He stays standing as he empties the dark, little vial and Achilles says, “Why don’t you take a seat lad? You’re welcome to rest for a moment. You look like you could use it.”

Zagreus studies him intently for a few moments, then shrugs. “If I sit down, I won’t want to get back up.”

Patroclus scoffs and quips, “I think that may be a sign that you really need to sit down.” Zagreus grins in response but remains on his feet regardless. Patroclus won’t insist where it’s not his place.

Instead he says, “At the risk of appearing rude, I must admit, I’m not very familiar with the chthonic deities. I don’t know all the gods of the Underworld. I thought you might be willing to sate some of my curiosity.”

Zagreus blinks at him, clearly surprised, but by no means offended. Patroclus is relieved to have apparently judged him correctly. “I- sure, of course! What were you curious about?”

Patroclus tilts his head. “-You. Who are you? What are you the god of?”

Zagreus blanches ever so slightly before flushing red. He laughs nervously and rubs the back of his neck as he ducks his head to avoid their gaze. “Sorry to disappoint you, sir. Some people in the house call me the God of Ash, but it’s only as a joke.” Through the ruffled, ink dark strands of his hair, Patroclus sees Zagreus set his mismatched eyes on his feet. The light of his fiery skin flickers and glows through the cracks and fissures in the build up of ash.

“I’m not really the god of anything at all,” the stranger announces.

Behind him, pressed up so that Patroclus feels it vibrate through him, Achilles hums a low, even noise, impossible to interpret, even as weighty as it feels in the air. Still, if he had to guess, he would think that his Achilles doesn’t believe that for a moment.

Patroclus isn’t so sure. He knows little about the ways of gods. Are some of them truly not gods of anything at all? And could Zagreus really be among their ranks? That, Patroclus finds less likely. He feels like the God of something. He can’t say exactly why, can’t pin it down. After all, the prince has only come through- oh, five or six times now. Just something in the air when he does, perhaps. Patroclus knows little about the ways of gods.

A little leaf falls from the crisp, autumn foliage of Zagreus’s laurels, wheeling through the motionless air of Elysium as if it has a life of its own. Patroclus watches, with an idle thought to collect it where it lands, but it flares like a minute ember and then flickers out just the same, leaving nothing behind when the stranger departs once again.

Hey I was wondering what does seeing heart shape everywhere and all the time mean!!???

Hello There! It sounds like you may be experiencing a synchronicity in seeing hearts everywhere and all the time. This is going to be another long post. Before we get into some possible meanings, let’s chat for a bit about what a synchronicity is and isn’t. That way we can be sure to practice using our discernment when synchronicities are involved, and make informed and empowering choices. To be clear though, seeing symbols (repeating numbers, images like hearts, names etc) isn’t bad or dangourous. It is, however, always a good idea to look at many possible avenues before deciding what something means and then acting on it. Also for the record, I’ll be discussing synchronicities through the lense of tarot since that’s what I primarily work with and know well. Just something to keep in mind for anyone reading this.

⭐️ Google defines a synchronicity as “the simultaneous occurrence of events which appear significantly related but have no discernible causal connection.” This is a pretty good definition, but when people talk about seeing signs everywhere, they are often referring to the more recent and occult definition.

⭐️ In the world of the occult (which in some capacity encompass witchcraft, paganism, the New Age movement and alternative spirituality), synchronicities have taken on a significance beyond their original definition. Nowadays, we tend to see anecdotes of people noticing repeating symbols showing up, such as repeating numbers, letters, images like hearts, certain animals or even songs. Seeing these things over and over again is often interpreted as being a special sign from the universe or from spirit guides, or angels or any higher power that we hope to communicate with. As such, synchronicities can hold special meanging for the recipients. Very much like tarot, synchronicities have become a way to communicate with the unseen world of spirit and the subconscious.

⭐️ The word “synchronicity” actually hasn’t been around for that long. It was coined in the 1950’s by the psychologist Carl Jung to describe what he referred to as “meaningful coincidences”. I’ve linked some reading below if you’d like to learn some more about this. In a nutshell, Jung believed that a synchronicity was part of a deep and complex psychological process that could provide information on an individual’s subconscious and emotional experience. The idea that synchronicities were messages from Spirit guides, angels or deities was perhaps alluded to, but not explicitly part of Jung’s work.

⭐️ Today, we can use synchronicities as waymarkers of sorts. Think of them as the awake and conscious version of dream symbolism. Seeing something over and over again may trigger certain emotions or remind you of something important. The difficult thing about seeing repeating symbols everywhere is that no one else will be able to accurately interpret them for you. They are only meaningful because your mind has created emotional and/or sensory attatchments to them. For example, smelling vanilla might trigger someone’s memory of baking with grandma. This is an example of a sensory attachment that has meaning for an individual because the scent of vanilla is encoded into their memory by a particular experience.

🌟 What a synchronicity is:

A form of symbolism. Thinking through the lense of tarot, we can interpret synchronicities in a similar way. More on that in a bit. It’s important to keep in mind that all symbolism is subjective and individualistic. Because groups of people share culture and language, there is some general overlap (like a rose representing love), but the truest interpretation will always be a personal one.

An affirmation - Seeing synchronicities can affirm that we are in the right path or in the right place. They do this by helping us recall important experiences that remind us of certain qualities, goals or states that we want to achieve.

A message from Spirit, Angels or a Higher Power - This is the common belief. If your spiritual path includes some of these elements and you seek confirmation or messages through symbolism, then it’s possible that a synchronicity could be a message. This won’t be the case for everyone or all the time though. A message recieved through synchronicity or symbolism is also likely to be guidance or affirmation, rather than hard facts. We should always use our discernment when working with synchronicity in this way.

🌟 What a synchronicity isn’t:

A demand from Spirit, spirit guides or a higher power. You are never obligated do do anything when you notice synchronicities beginning to appear in your life. Instead, you can reflect on them. What might they mean in the moment that you notice them? What messages are they trying to convey.

A dire warning. Sometimes I see things floating around the internet about predicting death or serious illness, etc. These kinds of concerns are best addressed with a licensed medical professional. If you have a worry about something, seeing a synchronicity might prompt you to get it checked out with your doctor, but a synchronicty is not a diagnosis.

Universal. Synchronicities are unique and meaningful only to the recipient. While we can generalize and compare similar experiences to generate some possible interpretations, nothing will be truer than an individual’s own personal interpretation. Essentially, you know yourself best. No one else can tell you about your thoughts better than you. It is wise to use some caution here because it’s quite common for unscrupulous “psychics” to charge quite a bit of money to interpret synchronicities for other people. I’m not saying that all tarot readers and psychics who talk about synchronicities are scam artists, but there are definitely some who are. Be discerning in your selection if you go that route. Also be careful with symbolism dictionaries and interpretation guides. There’s nothing inherently wrong with them, but they may not be 100% accurate for you. If you are able to, it’s actually better (and cheaper) to create your own personal symbolism guide.

🌟 How to interpret synchronicities as symbolism.

Like tarot, symbols are a type of visual language. The most useful and meaningful interpretation is always going to be one that you create yourself. This isn’t a glamorous and magical answer, but it’s true. It also might take a bit of digging to uncover. Scott Cunningham’s book, Dreaming the Divine, outlines this process nicely for dream symbolims. I will briefly describe how to create your own personal symbolism dictionary here.

Think of what thoughts, emotions and/or physical sensations arise when you see a heart. Write this down. What words do you associate with “hearts”? Make a list and write those down too. Don’t worry if they don’t make sense. Write down everything that comes up.

Next, you’ll need to spend some time taking inventory of every time you see a heart. This doesn’t need to be fancy. You can even use the voice notes app on your phone. Every time you see a heart, make note of what you were doing and what you were thinking about in that moment. What emotions do you experience before and after noticing the heart. Write everything down.

Compare your notes from steps 1 and 2. Where do you see overlap? Make a venn diagram if this is is helpful. Otherwise, make a list. The places where both notes intersect is where you will find meaning.

🌟 Heart Symbolism

Sometimes we need a little boost to get started. I also recognize that you probably weren’t asking me to ramble on for a million years about synchronicities, and are hoping for some nice, solid info. (Sorry about that. I do have a tendency to go overboard in the explanation department.) Here are some of my personal interpretations of heart symbolism that I’ve put together after years of reading tarot. Please keep in mind that these might not work for everyone. Some are generalized and others are personal. You are welcome to use them if they resonate.

Hearts can represent: 💕

Love & Relationships

Something that you are passionate about

Something that is secret or guarded (close to the heart)

Someone’s innermost desires or feelings

A secret admirer

The core or foundation of something/the reason for something’s existence

Deeply felt or raw emotions

Connection and Empathy

Vulnerability or that someone is easily wounded by words. Sensitivity.

A wound. May be literal or metaphorical.

🌟 Sources & Links

Synchronicities: A Sure Sign You’re on the Right Path. An article from Psychology Today. Describes synchronicities as symbols of affirmation.

Synchronicity: Definition and Meaning. An article from Live Science. Goes into some of Carl Jung’s ideas and presents an opposing perspective.

Dreaming the Divine by Scott Cunningham - Not specifically about synchronicities, but addresses the subjectivity of symbolism and suggests that our own personal interpretations are more meaningful.

The Call of Intuition: How to Recognize & Honor Your Intuition, Instinct & Insight by Kris Franken - This book is about creating an empowering state of awareness for yourself and discusses how to follow the voice of your own intuition. A great starting point for anyone interested in developing stronger intuitive abilities.

hi!! im here fishing for thoughts from more experienced dionysians including yourself. what were some of your first signs of Him? since my fairly recent strange infatuation with him (i have researched many deities in my time as a witch, mainly goddesses, he is one of the first gods, another being Apollo and the last being Cerunnos/Pan)

since, i have been inspired to write more, and have been dreaming more often/more imaginative dreams. I've also been fascinated by more or less modern books/writings about him. (I've realized much of my nature was already quite dionysian) what else should i be looking out for, though? in what other ways can i call to him? im just absolutely infatuated, and i want more

thank you!! sorry for the text wall ;p

For context, I started doing divination about 5 years before having any interest in paganism. In hindsight, the tarot deck I ended up having should have been my first big sign, but I completely missed it at the time. Several years later, I was a history major who did historical reenactment on my free time. It's my interest for the reenactment side that got me to look into roman period reenactment (I lived in a city that had been won over by Julius Caesar in 56BC) and then the rabbit-hole led me to the pagan side of the Internet. Looked interesting, and since I was already experienced with divination, I gave it a try.

So my first approach was my own interpretation of a reading that hinted towards a deity of excess and the realization that the Bacchus card was one of the most important features of this particular deck (it replaces the Hierophant lol), to the point of being on the deck box. Which I knew, but never paid attention to. I truly have not really considered other pantheons than the greco-roman one so my heart was set on that, at the very least.

That wasn't enough to convinced me so I asked for more, which leads to my magpie UPG. Long story short, I had to walk to someone's house on that day and kept seeing magpies everywhere and they'd follow my path. Looked it up and found a questionable link between them and the roman Bacchus. At the time I rolled with it and went "okay, fine, I get it." and just jumped in.

This first part was longer than I thought it'd be. To comment on the infatuation: it's a normal step. I've been there and you're far from being the first person I'm saying this to. In my experience, it fades -or you get used to it- after a few months. But the initial euphoria is totally not unheard of. It's a good drive to get you searching and discovering. 

When it comes to contact, I used meditation a lot in the beginning, and recorded whatever came up in a journal. This is something you can try. Divination is also central, and meditation can be a good complementary type of it. In either case, I cannot stress enough that you record everything somewhere. Stuff that happen now might make sense years down the line, so if you don’t have them written down somewhere, you can’t look back and spot the meanings. 

It’s also important to realize that stuff won’t always make sense right away. Or you might understand something in a way now, but then later realise you’ve only scratched the surface. This is fine, and honestly normal. Experience matters in how you understand and perceive things, so my advice is to keep an open mind, and -this is a hard one- understand that your knowledge is limited, no matter your level. This is why I advise research. Not because I want worshipers to be experts, but because sometimes what people think is UPG is actually very well recorded and there’s more to it. The paradox of this religion is that the more you know, the more you know how much you don’t know. 

I hope this helps. Feel free to contact me again if this rises questions or if I can help with anything. 

be your confessional (1/?) // minbin // 18+

chapter one: cherry-flavoured nicotine series navigation: [desktop] [mobile]

⚠ POTENTIAL TW: READ WITH CAUTION! ⚠ pairing: lee minho x seo changbin rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: obsessive compulsive disorder, cults, religious guilt, internalized homophobia, past sexual assault, cheating, smoking, tattoos.  word count: 4,032 also on AO3

originally posted: 27 december 2020

It's been ten years since Changbin left the cult he was born into. He's been desperately trying to become a normal member of society, but sometimes it proves to be difficult. He has a normal office job, a normal roommate, and a normal life. At least he was trying.

this fic sounds a lot darker than it is. most of the dark things happened in the past and is briefly discussed/observed.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are  interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do  not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of  the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable,  please stop reading now.

“Would you stay still? The Mark is going to come out imperfect if you keep moving.”

The voice felt like nails on a chalkboard, making Changbin nauseated just hearing it. He couldn’t help but twitch as the tattoo machine etched black lines into his skin, black ink and blood blending as the tattooist wiped at his chest.

To most sixteen-year-olds, getting a tattoo so early was a sign of rebelliousness, something to be envied by others. To Changbin, however, this was not a tattoo he would wear with pride. The X, surrounded by four triangles and enclosed in a circle, was something he felt shameful over.

“The X means you are nothing. You must follow the four principles: morality, service, responsibility, and submission to be whole, much like the circle. That is The Mark.”

The words hurt more than the tattoo being carved into his sternum. Everyone in their fellowship was forced to get The Mark at sixteen, if born into it, or when they were deemed worthy after joining.

Changbin didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be marked with a brand that rendered him unworthy, as nothing more than a pawn to some bullshit deity that some power-hungry man came up with fifty years ago. He loved his parents, he truly did, but he never understood why they fell for the words that The Leader spat out every week. The Leader wasn’t even charismatic; perhaps his parents were just vulnerable and stupid.

It didn’t matter.

“Wear your Mark with pride, Son,” The Leader whispered in his ear, continuing to dig his nails into Changbin’s wrists. “You are one with The Universe, one with Us, one with Me. Together, we are one in responsibility.”

“One in morality,” the tattooist nodded.

“One in service,” his father continued.

There was a pause as Changbin tried to choke back tears. He knew he had to complete the oath, but the lump in his throat and the burning of the skin on his chest made it difficult. The Leader cleared his throat, digging his nails into Changbin’s skin further, until he cried out and shook his head. “One in submission!”

One in submission.

Fuck submission.

Changbin nearly fell off of his bed as he thrashed awake. He was unable to make sense of his surroundings, trying to calm his rapid breathing and focus his eyes on something, on anything. He hated this nightmare; it haunted him for years, and they were increasing in frequency again.

It was irrational, but he needed to make sure. Changbin kicked his sheets off of him, untangling his legs from the prison his sheets tried to trap him in. As he made his way to his feet, he tore off his shirt, haphazardly throwing it somewhere across his room.

He needed to make sure.

Moving towards the washroom was mechanical, automatic. He did this so many times, waking up in the middle of the night to run off and check his skin. It was 37 steps from his bed to the sink. 37 steps to security.

Step 35: collide with the door.

Step 36: turn the light on.

Step 37: stare at the tired reflection in the mirror.

A wave of relief washed over Changbin as he stared at the dark raven that sprawled across his chest, wings touching the tips of his shoulders and the open beak pointed up towards his left shoulder. It held a deep meaning to him, but it was more important that it completely covered up that stupid fucking mark.

It hid away the years of guilt and shame, the obsession and compulsion that came along with conforming to each intricate, demanding rule that the cult ordered. The years of pain would never be totally washed away, but it was getting easier with each passing day.

“Hey,” a tired voice from the doorway startled Changbin, causing an electric jolt to course through his body. He turned his head over his shoulder and stared, blinking a few times to make sure it was really his roommate, Jisung, standing there.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he sleepily mumbled, nervously rubbing the tip of his shoulder with his thumb as he nibbled on his lip ring.

Jisung leaned up against the door, running his fingers through his vivid red hair. “You didn’t. I was already awake. Besides, it’s almost 5:30, so I figured I’d just get up and deal with the day.” They stared at each other for a moment, before Changbin turned back to look at his reflection in the mirror.

“You ever think it’s gonna stop, the nightmares?”

“Dunno,” the redhead shrugged as he met Changbin’s eyes in the mirror. “It’s been awhile since you woke up like this, though. You gonna be okay when it comes up?”

It hadn’t been long since he woke up like this, it had just been a while since Jisung woke up to Changbin acting on his compulsion. The black-haired man sighed, biting at his lip as he ran his eyes over his skin. “I’ll get over it. Hopefully he gets what he deserves.”

Jisung took a step forward, softly gripping Changbin’s shoulder and smiling at him in the mirror. “I know you will, but don’t be afraid to lean on me, dude. I’ll be here to help you through it, I promise.”

“Thanks, man,” Changbin smiled back, then looked down to his hands, staring at the hangnails and scabs that had littered his fingers. He wanted nothing more than to tear into his skin and tear away the imperfections that he had created during one of his episodes. The momentary lapses in rationality, where he would ferociously tear his nails apart, rip off hangnails, the lapses were the only thing that made the intrusive thoughts stop.

“You wanna hit the gym early? I know you’re not gonna go back to sleep any time soon, so might as well be productive with our time.”

“Yeah,” Changbin sighed, looking at himself in the mirror one more time before he turned the light off. “Might as well.”

Ten days until the hearing.

“Good morning!”

Fuck. Changbin tried to stealthily roll his eyes as he walked into the office. He hated the paralegal, Lee Minho. Minho was everything Changbin was not: nice, loveable, innocent, and a good church boy who was pure. Everyone loved Minho, because he was safe, an easy pill to swallow. Changbin was not an easy pill to swallow; he was covered in tattoos, ears decorated with jewellery, hard around the edges, and abrasive to most people.

“Yeah,” Changbin grunted, trying to avoid saying much else as he made his way to his office. It was too early to deal with someone so chipper, not without copious amounts of caffeine.

“Wait!” Minho called after him, and Changbin didn’t bother to hide his disgust as he stopped. He heard the shuffling of papers, and then Minho was suddenly by his side. “Mr. Bang is away from the office today, and he told me to pass off some of the Dawson v. Doebring case off to you.”

“Walk and talk, then,” Changbin didn’t bother waiting for Minho to follow him. “If Chan’s out, that means we’re busy today.” There was an itch under his skin as he lost count of the steps from the front door to his office, and it made him tense.

There was a bit of a squeak that came from Minho as he followed Changbin to his office. “I’ve got your back, Mr. Seo.”

Changbin couldn’t hold back a groan as he stopped dead in his tracks. He hated when people addressed him by his last name. “Stop calling me that,” he took a step closer, getting into Minho’s face. “I keep telling you, only address me as Changbin.”

“But,” Minho started, nervously backtracking his words incoherently.

He looked at Minho with a pleading gaze, trying to not seem vulnerable. Part of him wanted to tear into Minho because they did this every week, but the pitiful look that Minho had painted on his face made Changbin feel like a horrible person. It felt like he was yelling at a child for something stupid and only out of frustration. “Please, just… don’t call me by my last name.”

Minho nodded his head and bit his lip.

“Thank you,” Changbin sighed, turning on his heel and beelining towards his office.

“Sorry, Changbin,” Minho said, curling into himself a bit as he trailed Changbin.

The younger man shrugged as he sat down at his desk. “Don’t worry about it, Minho. Just…” he let his voice trail off as he looked down at his stacks of paperwork. There was a lot to do before he was going to be absent for several days due to the hearing.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear me. The leader deserves to die a slow, and painful death. Fuck this goddamned cult!”

That had earned Changbin a slap across the face from his father.

“Blasphemy is a sin, Changbin.” Despite being furious, his father’s voice was exhausted. He tiredly grabbed a black book off of the table and passed it to the young man. “You should be grateful that The Leader accepted you back into his embrace after the stunt you pulled.”

Changbin shook his head, grabbing the book his father offered and tossed it across the room, colliding against the vase on the dining table. “He should be fucking grateful I didn’t take this to the cops.”

Another slap to the face.

The younger man licked his teeth and shot an icy glare towards his father. “You know this isn’t right. You’re really going to side with that fucking monster over your own son?”

There was a painful silence that lingered in the air as they stared down one another, until his father broke the tension. He didn’t look like he wanted to say the words he had been thinking, but he repeated them anyways, his voice empty and distant.

“One in responsibility, one in morality, one in service, one in submission.”

Changbin didn’t bother. He scoffed as he took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re as much of a monster as him, you know?” His mother sat on the couch, curled up into herself as she stared off in a dissociative trance, trying to remove herself from the situation. “You’re going to actively defend and dismiss the things your beloved leader has done to me? Did you forget that I’m your fucking son?”

There should have been a slap, but Changbin’s father just looked down. His expression was hard to read. There was a look of shame and a look of remorse, but his eyes were dead.

“Get out of my house.”

Changbin’s mother lifted her head, opening her mouth to say something, but nothing came to fruition.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Changbin shook his head. “I’m not living with someone that doesn’t stand up against their son being abused and assaulted for years by some fucking psychopath that thinks he’s a god.”

“Come back here!” His father demanded, but Changbin was having none of it.

He turned on his heel and tried to remain composed as tears rolled down his face. “You’re both dead to me. I hope that, when this whole fucking cult gets torn apart, you both come down with it all.”

It had been ten years since he had seen his parents last, and he would be seeing them again in ten days.

“You’re making your fingers bleed,” Minho’s voice pulled Changbin back from the depths of his memories. “Are you okay, Changbin?”

No, I’m not okay. Never have been.

“It’s fine,” he grumbled, grabbing a tissue from the box on his desk. “Sometimes happens when I think too hard.” Ten days. He was still partially lost in the abyss of the past, and he was afraid he’d never fully shake the vise grip that the cult had around him.

Minho frowned, setting his notepad and pen down on the desk in front of him. “Can I ask you something kinda personal?”

No. I don’t want you to know anything about me.

“What is it?” He blotted the tissue around his fingernails until the blood was mostly gone, then dropped the tissue in the bin.

The older man brushed his brown hair away from his eyes, and sat forward. “Is law school really worth it? How did you know it was right for you? Like, I see you and Mr. Bang spend months over these cases and part of me is interested in applying, but...”

Fix the imperfections.

Changbin stood up, trying to fight the urge to pick at his fingers. “Can this wait a minute? I need to go wash my hands off.”

Minho nodded his head once. “Sure, sure. I’ll finish making notes on this file.”

127 steps from his desk to the washroom. He counted every step mentally as he walked. Anything to keep his thoughts away from tearing the flesh next to his fingernails off in nervousness, not until he was alone.

Step 126: open the door.

Step 127: scan the room.

It was an additional three steps to the third sink. Three was a good number.

Changbin ran the water a bit too cold for comfort as he stuck his hands under the faucet, ravenously tearing at his hangnails, pulling them off and turning the porcelain of the sink a shade of pink for a split second. The blood would drip down, then rapidly desaturate and dissolve into the water.

Fix the imperfections.

He hated these thoughts. Sure, the medications he had been on helped, and the therapy appointments he sometimes went to had helped him with better coping mechanisms, but this was the only thing that made sense to him, that actually felt like there was a payoff of serotonin. Changbin didn’t tear into his skin because he liked it — it hurt, actually, and it was incredibly uncomfortable — but because his brain told him he had no other choice.

“Obsessive-compulsive disorder isn’t uncommon in cases like yours,” his therapist told him. “Children develop coping mechanisms like skin picking or excessive handwashing amongst other things to gain control in their lives when things don’t make sense and they don’t have a way to express that in a healthy manner. Anxiety disorders are common: obsessive-compulsive disorder, alcohol and/or drug use and abuse, eating disorders…”

“Fuck that goddamned cult,” Changbin whispered under his breath, his voice laden with venom. “Fuck that man, fuck my parents. Fuck all of them.”

He let the water wash over his hands until his hands started to shake from the cold. Anything to numb the pain.

“You look pale,” Minho had, again, given Changbin an unwanted statement, and the younger man gritted his teeth as he bit his tongue.

Fuck you, too, you prudish brat.

“How’s the case review?” He deliberately ignored the concern Minho had as he sat at his desk, clasping his hands together and resting his chin against his fingers.

Minho batted his eyelashes a few times, giving Changbin a look of worry. “The case review is fine, but I don’t know if we’re going to have this ready by the end of the week.”

“Guess we’ll have to work harder.”

The men sat in silence for hours, poring over their evidence for the case. When Changbin could fully immerse himself in a case like this, it dampened the intrusive thoughts in his head. He felt somewhat normal for a little while, and it was a welcomed change.

“It’s half past two, Changbin,” Minho whined, looking up from his paperwork. “Can we take a break for now?”

It took a moment for Changbin to pull himself away from the paragraph he was on, taking a highlighter to some of the words. “I assume you want to get something for lunch, right?” He didn’t bother looking away from the document, because he didn’t want to look at Minho’s sad eyes.

“That’d be nice, yeah.”

“Then go,” Changbin shrugged.

“You should eat something, too.” Minho leaned in on the desk, trying to get into Changbin’s line of sight. “Maybe take a break from all of this.”

“Fine,” Changbin sighed, grabbing his glasses off of his desk and adjusting them on his face. “Chan said I should be nicer to you, anyways. How about that French place down the street?”

Minho’s smile was soft, genuine. “That sounds perfect.”

Changbin hated the fact that Minho was so nice. It felt fake and unwarranted. He saw a lot of his younger self in the way that Minho acted: fake kindness, putting others before himself, a general sense of being lost. He knew that the other man was deeply wrapped up in some sort of religion that took up all of his time outside of work.

It wasn’t obvious until Changbin watched the way he talked about his fiancée. It felt like she was a prop or a chore: just another thing for Minho to deal with.

“Hey, congrats, man!” Seungmin, the other new paralegal, had excitedly shouted one day a few weeks prior. “Finally settling down like a real adult, huh?”

Changbin poked his head out of his office door, ready to scold the paralegals for being so loud, but the look on Minho’s face distracted him. For someone being congratulated, he looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” he had meekly said, sinking into his shoulders a bit as he darted his eyes around. “She’s great. My parents have been pushing me to bite the bullet for months now, and this weekend seemed like it felt right.”

Doesn’t look like it feels right.

Changbin stood in his doorway, observing the two of them chatter back and forth, watching the discomfort on Minho’s face every time Seungmin asked him questions about his fiancée. It was like he was trying to talk with a wedge of lemon in his mouth: constantly scowling and wincing.

“We’re gonna get married in a few months,” Minho said with a sigh. “Her parents want a winter wedding, and my parents just want me to get married.”

Seungmin shifted his weight to the other foot. “Dude,” he folded his arms, his tone turning more serious. “You sure about this?”

Minho shrugged. “Yeah. It’s what I’ve gotta do. Nobody else in my community waits this long to get married and start a family.”

Community.

Changbin tried to stifle a scoff with a fake cough when the two men noticed him standing there. “Sorry, I wanted to offer congratulations. I was also looking for the corporate notes for the Smith v. ParaCorp case, Minho.”

“Oh,” Minho nodded, his face flushing as he scrambled around his desk. “Yeah, I’ve got them somewhere, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Changbin shook his head and turned to walk back to his office. “Just have them on my desk in a couple of hours.”

As much as Minho annoyed him, Changbin felt somewhat bad for him. He didn’t know the specifics of what all Minho was involved in, but it sounded deep-rooted and like he was stuck. Chan told him to try and be nicer to his paralegal, but sometimes annoyance won out over niceness, but he was at least trying.

Somewhat.

“So,” Changbin dug into his jacket and pulled out his vape cartridge as soon as he and Minho were outside, “how’s the wedding prep going?” He eyed Minho out of the corner of his eye as he inhaled, the cherry-flavoured nicotine cloud leaving his lips a moment later.

It was a rude question to ask, given the circumstances, but he wanted to try and confirm a theory that was burning in the back of his head, under the guise of caring about Minho’s personal life.

A theory that was slowly unravelling to be truth. Minho shrunk a bit, kicking a stray rock down the sidewalk as they walked. “It’s,” he paused, tucking his hands into his pockets, “I guess it’s going? Maria and her family are working on most of it.”

Go figure.

“You don’t seem very excited for a man that’s about to get married.”

They walked in silence for a bit. 40 steps from the entrance to the curb. The stoplight ahead of them was red, and cars rushed past them as the air lingering between them went stagnant.

“I’m not excited about it.” Minho’s voice was quiet, almost too quiet for Changbin to pick up on. “Not at all, actually.”

The younger man took another pull from his vape, then rolled his tongue over the stud in his lip. He should have pretended like he didn’t hear Minho, but curiosity always got the better of him. “Wanna talk about it? Sworn to client confidentiality.”

Minho scoffed, anxiously tapping the toe of his shoe against the ground. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t love her, do you?” The light turned green, the orange hand turning into a white stick figure, but neither of them moved.

The older man looked up, his eyes glistening a bit as they stared forward. Some stranger walked past them and flipped them off, but neither of them paid the stranger any mind. “Are you actually supposed to love someone you marry, or is that some sort of fairytale? All of my friends are married and secretly miserable.”

“Dunno,” Changbin sighed, sticking his hands into his pocket as he stared at the light turn into a flashing hand. “Never been married. Never planned on it.”

“Why are you asking me this, anyways?” Minho turned to look at Changbin, a disgruntled look on his face.

“Why did you answer me?” Changbin tilted his head a bit to the side, looking at Minho with indifference. “I figured you wouldn’t say anything if you didn’t really want to talk about it. To answer your question, though, it’s been bothering me since you announced your engagement. You looked uncomfortable when Seungmin brought it up.”

Minho didn’t answer Changbin, instead taking a hasty step forward as soon as the light flashed back to a white stick figure.

“Wait, Minho!” Changbin reached out, practically ripping Minho’s sleeve off of him as he pulled him back from the road right as a car ran a red light, nearly running into Minho. The force of the pull knocked them onto the sidewalk, causing Changbin to land hard against the ground, barely missing his head colliding into the concrete.

Minho awkwardly laid on top of Changbin, staring down at him with terrified eyes. He grabbed the sides of Changbin’s neck and panicked. “Oh my goodness,” he whined, “Changbin, are you okay?”

He’s cute from this angle. Fear looks good on him.

“I’ll be fine,” Changbin says, unsure of where to place his hands. He’d never been this close to another man his age. It never hit him before, but Minho was good looking. Had he not been the pure, innocent church boy type, he would have been Changbin’s type. Minho, however, was innocent and literally planning a wedding that was coming up in a few months.

“Changbin,” Minho whispered, his cheeks turning a shade of crimson. There was a strange tension between them, like the air around them was full of electricity and they were being pulled together. Minho dug his fingernails into Changbin’s neck, slowly bringing his head in closer.

Don’t kiss the church boy.

He knew where his hands needed to be. Changbin brought his hands up to Minho’s head without even thinking twice, pushing aside the intrusive thoughts running through his head. The warmth of the older man was intoxicating as he brought their lips together.

Minho responded in kind, pushing a bit further into the kiss. They were getting strange stares, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the euphoric energy that danced around them as they kissed. He pulled away, then pressed his lips to the older man’s three times in total.

Stop kissing the engaged church boy.

Maybe he would make it six times.

Don’t kiss the engaged church boy who is probably heavily traumatized.

Nine times. Three times three for good measure.

Changbin had just literally fallen for the church boy, but he felt like he was potentially metaphorically falling for him now. Fuck the intrusive thoughts.

How to Make Powerful NPCs Interesting Again

We all know the trope: the powerful wizard hires the party to go run some minor errand, which inevitably leads to them stumbling onto the World-Ending Plot, which they have to solve, alone, with only the occasional advice from their wizened mentor. It's a trope as old as time; even Hercules got occasional boons from godly beings to help him on his quests. It's a great narrative device, until some player stops and asks, "If this wizard is able to stop time with a snap of his fingers, why doesn't he just stride into the field and shove a ninth-level fireball into the Lich's cranial cavity?"

This simple bit of cognitive dissonance can really ruin the fun and undermine the urgency of an otherwise great adventure. If the party knows that the only reason they're on this quest is because Randalf the Off-White can't be bothered to deal with the horde of undead outside his tower, it can make them feel like chumps or patsies, and undermine any sense of gratitude that comes later during the campaign's denouement.

There's a few simple ways to fix this, though: tricks that can help you, the DM, keep your high level NPCs while also explaining why the great powers of the world are relying on this band of scrappy adventurers to solve all their problems. Below are just a few.

The Balance of Powers

This principle is a great one, but is often sadly overlooked in many campaigns. Simply put, in the above example, the wizard mentor doesn't get involved not because he can't, but because doing so would bring in a whole host of other powerful beings that would complicate the conflict. Perhaps there's a council of archmages who have all agreed, for the sake of maintaining the fabric of reality, that they should keep their Ninth-level spells in their pockets unless they all agree it's necessary. Perhaps the BBEG has a patron on the Council, and the mentor can't interfere on his own without dragging his evil opposite into the campaign. This can actually make for a great part of the climactic battle: the mentor decides he can't stay on the sidelines anymore, and joins the fray, participating in an epic wizard's duel.

This can also be used with deities bestowing boons on the party: they can act indirectly by helping the party, perhaps because one of their rival deities is already helping the BBEG. Thus, the conflict of the campaign turns into a proxy war for a larger divine conflict that can't be fought, because it would annihilate all of existence. If you do take this path, make sure your NPC stresses to the party how essential it is that they solve this issue, because if the major players themselves join the fight, no one will survive.

The Protector of Reality

Similar to the Balance of Powers, this rationale places the Epic NPC in a conflict from which they cannot afford to divert their attention or resources, even for a moment. Perhaps there is a constant threat of otherworldly incursion for which they need all (or almost all) of their capabilities; after all, you don't want to be caught with your pants down and your spell slots expended when Tiamat bursts through the material plane like an alien parasite from a man's stomach. Even the threat of such an apocalyptic event would mean that, like a missile in a silo, an epic level NPC would have to sit dormant, never expending his magical capabilities because he never knows when they may be required. This is actually a great archetype to use for the Wizard in the Tower trope; they may have built themselves a convenient magical retreat at great cost because they couldn't afford the spell slot to cast Mordenkainen's Magnificent Mansion everyday, not while that same spell slot may be needed to banish an archduke of the Nine Hells. So, they sit in the tower, separated from the affairs of the world by necessity - but, still caring about the world and wanting to make sure it's not a shit place to live, they can find and recruit adventurers to handle the more mundane threats that don't shake the foundations of the universe. This is also a great twist finale to use on the party: perhaps the Wizard in the Tower joins them in the final boss battle, expending all his magical power -- only for, at that moment, the threat he's been guarding against for centuries to finally arrive, and now it's up to the party to stand against them where he cannot.

The Otherworldly Being

This works especially well with warlock patrons, but it can work similarly well with questgivers and friendly NPCs that have an otherworldly or spiritual bent. The key idea is that the force recruiting, motivating, and rewarding the players is not located on the material plane itself and is therefore unable to act on it; they need to find a local agent to handle the problem. There is plenty of inspiration throughout myth and folklore; dream visitations, whether by angels, fiends, fey, or Lovecraftian horrors, are particularly common as an impetus to get an uncooperative character to fall into line. There are more tangible methods of communication as well; perhaps they are a being of immense power that is trapped in every mirror in the world and needs an agent to eventually get them free, or perhaps they can only manifest through signs and omens that require interpretation. If you want to pull from Greek mythology, there's also the possibility of a dedicated oracle who acts as the voice of the gods, but gives only vague, ominous prophecies that won't reveal their true weight until later. In all cases, a clear distinction is established between the power of the questgiver and the limitations of their abilities to influence the mortal realm, making the party the ones with agency in the situation.

The Hidden BBEG

You'll want to be careful how you use this one, because you only get one shot to pull it off with a given group, and once the players suspect something it is really, really hard to recover from it. The basic premise is that the powerful NPC who recruited them, who sent them off to fight against the Big Bad Evil Guy, was secretly a villain themselves, trying to bring down their rival or clear the way for their own scheme. Think of Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars, sending the Jedi across the galaxy to deal with the Sith and the CIS, only to betray them all. Unfortunately this has become a major trope, and given how paranoid players typically are, it's very hard to pull off. There's a couple of tricks to making it work, and some of them may seem counterintuitive.

Do not make the Hidden BBEG perfect or flawless. Establish a set of motives for their actions, ones that may seem prosaic but also have a selfish bent. The high priest wants to rid the land of the evil king who is oppressing the population, but who is also stifling the priest's ability to build his church. The noble ruler wants to defeat the opposing empire that threatens the peace and stability of his lands, but also is motivated by revenge for the war crimes committed in the past. Create a pretext that puts them on the same side as the party, but a subtext that leaves the party slightly uneasy. If the party is concerned about their ally having selfish motives, they'll be expecting selfishness, even recklessness, but not duplicity and betrayal.

Do not reveal the full capabilities of the Hidden BBEG. If anything, they should appear to be about mid-level; capable, but not able to handle world-shaking threats. Most often they are hiding their capabilities until some final piece is brought into their grasp. One excellent example would be Fraz-Urb'luu, one of the demon princes of the Abyss, who is obsessed with recovering his staff of power; as a Hidden BBEG, he might pose as a friend to the party, waiting until they recover all the pieces and bring them to him before he strikes, showing his true might. Another excellent example is the Heirophant from the classic geek movie The Gamers: Dorkness Rising.

Show genuine conflict in the Hidden BBEG. Let them display passion and inner conflict, moments where they are troubled by the methods the party uses and the methods they and their followers are forced to use. There's an old adage that every villain is the hero of their own story; if you can make that ring true for your Hidden BBEG, to make the party invested in not just their cause but in maintaining their moral character, then the betrayal will hurt even more.

The Common Crowd

This might seem counterintuitive, but sometimes the best Epic NPC isn't epic at all, but just a collection of ordinary folk. If your campaign originates in a specific village or town, especially one full of colorful, memorable NPCs with personal ties to the party, then the collective needs and will of that settlement can become a questgiver NPC in its own right. The town is suffering from an unnatural drought? Send the party to seek out aid or a magical cure. The town is displaced following an invasion? Keeping the town safe and finding them a new home becomes a priority. This can also become a source of individualized side quests for the PCs; they're likely to be far more concerned about seeking out the rare medicine required to save the orphan girl who the rogue took under wing than they are about exploring a random tomb for loot drops. Plus, if the PCs invest their time and effort into protecting the town, it can make for an amazing final battle when the townsfolk come to support the party in battle, armed with everything they can get their hands on, ready to die for their heroes (a.k.a. The 'Mass Effect' Effect).

I hope these provide some good inspiration for your campaign! Let me know if there's any tricks you've used on your campaigns that worked particularly well, or any that you think should be added.

Why did you convert to Judaism?

tl;dr: it called to me for five years and felt like home, even before i knew i was allowed to be jewish. the community aspect, the sense that i was who i was supposed to be. that i was where i was supposed to be.

the long version is... very complex, and i'll try to answer it as honestly and extensively as i can without adding stuff i'm uncomfortable sharing because a lot of it is personal backstory. (i indented the part that skips over the tragic backstory if you want to skip that, i’m only adding it because i feel like it’s integral to my journey) i'm putting it under a cut because it's very very long and may be triggering. i also… don’t know if this was necessarily what you were asking, but i hope i answered your question sufficiently. the stuff about jewish belief (as interpreted by me) is the last few paragraphs.

tw for xtianity (specifically catholicism, as well as missionaries), child abuse, brief mention of religious homophobia and sexual assault (in paragraph 4), and mentions of antisemitism at the end

i grew up with a very catholic grandmother, and was very much the Good Catholic Girl - i was at mass every sunday, i was a youth group leader (both of my parish specifically and on a regional level) and personally helped put together a lot of youth events, i was an altar server, i was a eucharistic minister, i helped teach sunday school. i talked all the time about how much i loved being catholic, and how much i trusted god, and any time anything bad happened, i would publicly say that it was in his hands and that whatever was meant to happen would happen. no matter how bad it was, i told everyone how much i loved and trusted god.

and i was completely and utterly empty. nothing felt right. i got yelled at once for asking a question (i don't remember the question, but i do remember the embarrassment and resolve to stop questioning things). i didn't understand confession, and was too embarrassed to ask. i have obsessive-compulsive disorder, and was absolutely obsessed with being the poster girl for what a good catholic girl should look like because it was what i was supposed to be, but i just... didn't feel it. i didn't understand why some things were sins, and i didn't ever really do anything that i considered bad... so i lied in confession. i made up stuff i didn't do just so people wouldn't see that i was as lacking as i felt. and boy was i good at it.

i was very good at faking loving god, when i actually hated him. he didn’t stop my mother from being neglectful, he didn’t stop her boyfriends from being abusive, he didn’t stop us from being taken away and made to live with our grandmother. my grandmother was in the council of catholic women, she was on the board of directors at the church, she taught sunday school, she was close personal friends with both the priest and the deacon, and was beloved by everyone. and she is and always has been viciously abusive.

when i was a junior in high school, my boyfriend was a missionary kid whose parents were at a local church. he frequently bragged about how many people in papua new guinea he and his family personally converted to xtianity, and about how the bible he carried around helped him in lots of arguments at school. one instance was when he used it to argue against same-sex marriage in his US history class. even though i was catholic and he was not, he had me go to church with him sometimes. his family was Righteous and Godly and Ideal. he was a missionary kid and i was a Good Catholic Girl, and that didn't stop him from sexually assaulting me. and then he just went right back to converting people, went right back to talking about how godly and morally correct he was. 

god didn’t stop that from happening, either. god didn’t stop any of that from happening, and i hated him for it.

when i was a senior in high school, i finally called cps on my grandmother for her abuse, and they did nothing. my grandmother, the poor old woman who took in her grandchildren and suffered through how absolutely terrible and horrible they were but was still so godly, and the family was just so beautiful at mass every week… she tossed me out. she told me to pack and to leave the house. so i did.

when i moved in with a friend, sleeping on an air mattress on her floor, i had a lot of time to think about my sexuality and gender. and it scared me, because of a sermon our priest had given once and because i didn’t know how my very catholic boyfriend would react. (he was fine with it, but we did end up breaking up after a bit for unrelated stuff.) i did attend mass a few times while i lived with her, desperately hoping to feel… something, anything. but i didn’t. i didn’t get a sign or anything even remotely comforting. 

       eventually, i came to terms with the fact that i wasn’t cishet, and when i went to college (well… went is a strong word. i was on campus) i had the opportunity to start to find myself, and i thought… catholicism didn’t fit me. it never fit me, it always made me feel empty. 

one of my friends was a rabbi’s son, and as a jew, he was ALWAYS more than willing to talk about judaism. there was more than one occasion that our friend group would hang out in an empty classroom with a whiteboard, and we would just listen to him talking about the torah or about jewish ethics or just… whatever he felt like talking about.

and i desperately wanted to know more, i wanted to always feel the way i did listening to him talk about the relationship jews have with god. i wanted to be part of something that not only allowed but ENCOURAGED a fraught relationship with god. that not only allowed but ENCOURAGED questioning your beliefs. the kind of community i felt listening to him talk about judaism was something i had never felt in all my years of being a Good Catholic Girl. i wanted to be part of it so desperately… but i had been catholic, which in my mind meant i wasn’t allowed. so i pushed my desire down.

i ended up dropping out of college for mental health reasons, and by that point had ended my friendship with the friend i’d stayed with before, which meant i had to move back in with my grandmother. it was… bad. i tried to come out to her and it didn’t go well. i ended up moving out again, and was trying to get as far away from catholicism as humanly possible.

i was pagan for a few years, and i don’t regret it. i made a lot of friends and i learned a lot about what i wanted out of a relationship with god, but ultimately it just wasn’t for me. it just didn’t feel like home. during that time, i became friends with a lot of jews, and hung on to everything they said about judaism. (like, it’s seriously weird how the older i got the more jewish friends i had. it felt like judaism was literally calling me. but it scared me so i refused to think about it too hard.)

and then crazy circumstances happened (that have nothing to do with my conversion) and i moved in with my current roommates lol. one of my roommates was already jewish but didn’t really have the kind of connection to it that they wanted (for reasons that aren’t mine to share). the first time i saw them light the menorah for chanukah i… felt something. it was a kind of yearning that i just… couldn’t ignore. i felt like i was being called to something bigger and older and deeper than i had ever felt before. i wanted to be jewish more than anything and it felt like i was supposed to be jewish.

and i still waited… a while to bring it up. i thought about it constantly, but i never said a damn word to anyone, until finally i couldn’t keep it in anymore and blurted it out and i was so nervous that i was going to be told i couldn’t. but i wasn’t. we decided that we wanted to go to one of the local temples at some point.

the first time i rolled into the temple i almost cried. the feeling i had was one of overwhelming familiarity, of a desperate need to belong there. the people were so nice and welcoming but it didn’t feel like it did at my old catholic church. it felt like i already knew them, even though i was to shy to talk to many people. and then the service started, and i cried through… almost the entire thing. every time i heard hebrew, it resonated with me in a way i had never experienced.

it felt like what i was looking for in catholicism.

as a side note, at one point someone was like vaguely rude about my wheelchair in the typical abled nonsense way, and at the oneg afterwards rabbi was talking to me and was like “i saw that, and it was just absolutely unacceptable. i’m so sorry that happened.” and i was SHOCKED. 

me and my roommates ended up going to shabbat services for a few months and every single time i went into the building it just. felt like home. it felt like it was where i was supposed to be. eventually i worked up the guts to actually ask about converting, because i just… i know i keep saying it, but i just so desperately wanted to be jewish. i wanted to be a part of it more than i had ever wanted anything.

and during the conversion classes, i found… myself? i guess? i became more solidly myself, i think. i’ve never really… i’m not good with the academic part of being jewish because of my brain damage, and that’s something i worried about with my rabbi, but he told me that it was okay, that i didn’t have to know everything, because there’s things even he doesn’t know. the important thing was the spiritual part, and that was… something i actually found fulfilling.

i still have a very fraught relationship with god, but it doesn’t feel like one-sided hatred with an all knowing deity that knew i was suffering and didn’t care. it’s a struggle, a conversation, it’s me yelling at god at three in the morning and being allowed to do that. it’s me realizing that god doesn’t control everything in the universe because we’ve got free will, and there’s some things we have to do for ourselves. my suffering wasn’t preordained and there isn’t “a reason for everything”, it was other people doing it because they were exercising their free will to hurt others.

my rabbi is… older gen x cishet white man, so he’s got some pretty centrist politics, but he always stresses that he accepts us for who we are and that the most important thing is that we are taking care of ourselves. (seriously, the number of exchanges i’ve had with him that are along the lines of “i can’t make it to class because my body is doing a chronic illness” “that’s okay, make sure you take care of yourself” is… more than i can count) he’s flawed at it, of course, but… who isn’t?

the more i learn about the tanakh (as opposed to the old testament - because they’re actually very different) the more secure i feel in my decision. the stories aren’t meant to be absolutely true in every sense of the word, we have literal hundreds of pages of rabbis arguing with each other across hundreds of years about what a passage might mean. 

the stories aren’t showing how we need to be subservient to god, they’re showing that even god makes mistakes, so of course people are going to make mistakes, because we’re made in their image. they’re to remind us of who we are, of what it means to be jewish. am yisrael, the people of israel (NOT the country). we literally named ourselves after the time our great great great great grandpa wrestled with god AND WON. 

jewish belief in god doesn’t necessarily mean “i think god exists”, because of course they do. god is whatever you need them to be. jewish belief is trust, it’s like saying “i believe in you” to a friend you know can do whatever it is they need to do. 

despite what antisemites would have you believe, jews being god’s chosen people doesn’t mean we think we’re better than everyone else. being chosen is a burden. jews have historically suffered and suffered and suffered, and we’re still here. we still keep going, because we have to. jews grapple with the concept of being chosen much like we grapple with god. it’s a heavy and weighty thing that means something different to everyone. being chosen isn’t always a good thing. it’s responsibility, it’s heartbreak, it’s pain, it’s a happiness i can’t put into words, it’s community and belonging and facing adversity from people who want you dead. and continuing on, because jews will always endure.

but hey, i’m just one guy. if you ask another jew i can guarantee they’ve got another perspective and another story.

Where Wind Soothes - Crypt (Sehun, pt. 9) [Chronicles of the Wolf series]

I love you guys. Sorry for being gone for so long.

I hope this will help <3. I’ll start replying to all of your answers tomorrow <3

If you need to refresh your memory, and I know you do, read this! 

Enjoy!

-

The mountains seemed even more ominous as you neared them, and you knew why it seemed that way to you. It was most probably a combination of all things- the sky was overcast, sun only slightly visible through the thick layer of grey; an omnipresent and yet still powerless deity, whose power would not reach where you were about to wander. The area surrounding the crypts of the ancient seemed match the atmosphere of a final resting place of dozens of warriors. The ground was hard and cold, and only the harshest and sturdiest of flora survived here, a clear sign for anyone and everyone, that this was not a place for the living.

All these thoughts came racing through your veins and down your legs, making it seem like iron settled around your ankles, and you huddled into yourself for security and the slightest, maddest of thoughts, that maybe if you cowered into yourself far enough, you would magically slip away from the situation that you found yourself in, and would be able to reappear back in your cozy and most importantly, safe house, far away from any wolves or deathbells or walking dead.

Bora didn't seem to be as affected by your adventure, and in the back of your mind, you knew you couldn't compare yourself to a person whose calling was killing of supernatural beasts. And yet you couldn't help yourself but be jealous of the easy stride she kept up, even though you saw the numerous daggers strapped to both of her thighs and the small bow flung across her back. In this moment, you didn't want to be a healer anymore. You wanted to become Bora, tall and strong and fearless, and selfless, so, so selfless, as she was putting herself in imminent danger to provide materials for a medicine that is so ancient, there is no knowing if it going to help or not.

Sehun kept silent on the road. You didn't know if it was purely the jealousy seeping through him that prevented him from having a civil conversation with you, or it was the stress. Maybe it was a bit of both, and it made you uneasy as well. Even if he didn't talk to you, he made it his point to stay near you, just an arm's reach away in case you tripped over a stray root while you were busy mapping your surroundings (however, you did think that there were some moments when the guiding hand on the small of your back was absolutely unnecessary, and the younger wolf was just yearning for touch. You let it slide, because the warmth of his hand made your fried nerves cool down as well).

You bypassed the main entrance to the crypt, a tall door with multiple locks strewn over the majestic wood as a clear sign that it was unwise to even attempt to disturb the dead. Many have tried, evident by the numerous slashes not only against the door but on the cobbled stones leading up to the entrances as well- swords, axes and arrows of thieves or just adventurers bored by the dangerous woods and abandoned villages, looking for treasure. Looking for fame. And after the fourth time the capital had sent the battle monks to contain hordes of decaying flesh wielding their old weapons as if they were part of their limb, the crypts were sealed off, guarded by protective wards which would make the intruders forget what they were attempting to do and send them off wandering into the wilderness, regaining their senses once they were far away.

Bora's sure steps leading all of you up the side of the mountain had you chuckling under your breath. "How often have you gone here, Bora?" you couldn't keep in the question, and the former captain turned to look at you over her shoulder, a slight smirk playing along her features. "I have a friend or two who recommended some weak spots in the chambers further in the crypts."

"I hope these friends aren't waiting somewhere in the shrubbery for you and little medic over here to slide away into a crypt to ambush us," Baekhyun hissed, making sure his suspicious voice was accompanied by a fake-enough swipe of the perimeter that it couldn't have been interpreted in a different way than a joke. "I'm sure that if Bora wanted us to be decorations of Wolfsguard barracks' walls, she would've lured us somewhere closer to the headquarters." Sehun piped in, offering you a hand once you were climbing higher on the rocks.

"Maybe it's something they like to do in their free time. Find out who makes a more fun hunger games for the guards."

"It's here." the playful speculations (only for the two participating wolves, Tao's shoulders tensed since the first mention of his mate betraying their pack) died down immediately when Bora knelt over a pile of seemingly inconspicuous rubble. Stone after stone disappeared, and an ominous wind moaned from the newly discovered crypt entrance, heavy with the stench of stale moss and rot. You came to appreciate your medical background, as the smell was something horrible to the untrained nose, as was evident from the way the wolves' grimaced and turned away, trying to guard their heightened senses.

The mouth to the crypt had a diameter just slightly big enough for you and Bora to squeeze through, but even as the former Wolfsguard asked Baekhyun to shine a bit of light into the first hall of the crypt, it was evident that there was no possible way either of the wolves could follow you. Bora turned to you with a tight smile.

"I know the layout of the crypt. We scour one, maybe two of the main halls, and that's it. They are big enough, and if the plant we're looking for is not there, it won't be anywhere else in the crypt." Squinting up at the sky, she did the math in her head.

"We have about three hours in the cave. Then we need to head back to camp, so we won't get caught in the dark out here. Check through your bag to make sure you have everything, and we can go."  

The last command made it real, and you could feel your knees buckle slightly at the idea of having to go inside. However, you kept your deserter's thoughts to yourself, as you knew that if you would show any type of uncertainty infront of the wolf, Sehun would press the group to abort mission and return to camp. You have seen his injuries. You saw the way it crippled him from fully enjoying his time with the pack, hell, the way it robbed him of a good night's sleep or a pleasant meal. And with every wince during dinner time or on trail, you also saw Bora's eyes flicker with guilt. You knew that if you backed out of the plan, she would venture inside alone, even if it meant trying to find a long lost herb only by frayed drawing. She knew that apologies by words would not mean anything, she would press on, more ferocious in scouting the territory, in preparing the maps, in sharpening her arrows and daggers.

One of those weapons was currently hanging on your hip, surprisingly light for the metallic appearance of it. "Elven," Bora quipped when she saw your expression. "Very light but still able to deal a lot of damage."

Along with the dagger, you had a backpack slung over your shoulder, and in it were rough sketches of the plant you were looking for. It was a petite plant, reaching no more than over your ankles, all delicate vines and small, round leaves with gentle petals and a reportedly sweet odor. If the colors of the petals were any different, it would be an ideal plant to have in pots under your window, or strung together in a cute bouquet for a first date, be it not that the flower itself had the color of decaying flesh and the inner veins were fanning out in an ominous black, like the skin of a corpse left unattended for far too long. They were said to recieve this discoloration from their primary source of nutrients - they peeked out from half open coffins in murky crypts, or on battlefields where none had survived to bring the information to their allies.

 As you checked the sketch again, your hands began to shake. The calming breath you took (four seconds breathe in, seven seconds hold, eight seconds out) had no effect, and with an annoyed sigh you stuffed the sketch back in the satchel, pulling on the strings to close it. The paper was so old that you could only wish that the drawing was right. What if you had fallen for one of those books written only to scare people away from the woods and crypts? Who in their right mind would name a flower Deathbell, anyways?

It was then that two warm palms cupped your face, making you flinch away from the touch with a quiet squeak. You looked up at Sehun in bewilderment, whose face was clouded in worry.

"You don't have to do this." he told you, confirming all the suspitions you had before. Putting on your most convincing smile, you shook your head (or at least tried...it was hard to do so while it was held delicately in someone's grasp), patting the back of his hand reassuringly.

"This will help you, Sehunnie. It's going to be okay."

"It's not okay if you're in an enclosed space somewhere I can't reach you. There must be some other cure."

"But what if there isn't? What if this is the only way to make you feel better?" Sehun stopped to think his answer over, but you didn't give him the chance to say something stupid.

"And don't you dare say you don't need it. Your pack has wasted precious supplies if we don't at least try to get them." It was your turn to step closer to the wolf, whose glance was directed at the dirt on your shoes. Running a hand through his hair, you cupped his chin and gently lifted it up so he was looking at you. His worry for you was extremely endearing, and you reached up on the tips of your toes to press a small kiss against his nose.

"We will be fine. I promise." Before you had the chance to step away, Sehun was pressing his forehead against yours with a deep sigh, his hands slipping down to your throat, sliding down your arms. As his fingers entwined with yours, he slowly guided your hands to wrap around his waist, before he cupped your face again, being so close to you that you felt the breath from his lips fall against yours.

"The moment you so much as hear something moving in the crypts, you get out. Deathbell, no deathbell. I'm okay with being like this if it means that you're okay." the confession had silenced whatever cooing reassurances you had ready for the young wolf, because the amount of fire and passion in his eyes almost knocked you to your knees. The only thing you were able to do was surge up on your toes once more to press a deep kiss against his lips, hoping that it will convey all that you wanted to say.

I'm doing this for you. I'll be careful. I will succeed.

Wait for me out here.

Sehun moved away from you with extreme difficulty, his wolf howling at him to keep you in his arms, away from harm, away from the place you were about to crawl into that reeked of danger and death. He was rooted on the spot when Baekhyun light the girls' torches with an inextinguishable light.

Bora went first, agile as a feline as she slipped through the hole and landed on the crypt's floor with a mute thud. The height wasn't too bad, the only concerning thing for you was that you had to slip your satchel from your back to be able to get through the entrance and into the dungeon. As much as you tried to copy Bora's movements, they fell short and you landed with a much louder thud than the leader of the Wolfsguard, and for a heart clenching second, the both of you stood as motionless as the dead, ears poised to catch the slightest sound that you had woken what should never rise again.

As Bora gave the silent nod of her head, you turned one last time to look up at the entrance, where Sehun was peeking down at you with a mixture of annoyance, worry and fear.

It was the last look you saw on him before you took a quiet, deep breath, and stepped into the land which belonged to the dead.

The first thing you were surprised to see were the slight glimmers of light far in the crypt. Despite such heavy locks adorning the door, you figured there must be a priest who comes every now and then to check the grounds for any possible unrest. Your stomach still felt weak as you forced yourself to turn away from the lit corridor and inspect the hall you were in at the moment.

The hall that you dropped into was longer than you had thought, and what you had crawled through was a hole in one of the empty resting places reserved for the bodies. Looking around, the bodies were placed in cabinet-style stone constructions, lining both the walls of the hall you were currently in, as well as functioning as separators for different family clans.

Not every body was in a coffin, to your dismay. Quite the contrary, coffins were rare in the room you were currently scanning, making your heart drop. Most of the bodies rested on stone cold tablets, arms crossed on the chest. Even though most have been dead for many years, there were still corpses which clung to their weapons from their living days, as if they were ready to spring up and resume whatever battle had bested them before.

Pressing a cloth to your mouth and nose to guard it from the stench clinging to this place as well as acting as a hopefully effective enough prevention from sneezing at the unknown scents and large amount of dust, you took a small, uncertain step to the closest coffin to you, wedged in between an axe-wielding woman with no arm and a resting ground in which three decapitated heads were stacked neatly in a row. Ignoring the hollow looks in their eyes as best as you could, you brought the torch a bit closer to examine the cracked opening of the coffin.

You knew the chances were extremely low, but yet it didn't stop your stomach from plummeting in disappointment when there were no deathbells present. Fighting the sigh from escaping your lips, you turned to see where Bora had gone. Her torch was on the ground by her feet, hands gripping her bow and arrow, as she glared at the far away corridor light with torches, deep scowl on her face. Swallowing the question you had for her, you decided to sneak over to the next coffin (the clan you were currently inspecting had a total of four coffins to their approximately 30 bodies), trying to focus the most on what was important.

The lid of the other coffin was almost completely slid to the side, revealing the once surely majestic warrior whose hair was now falling out in clumps with the scalp, skin stretched tightly over his face and body. A huge hole hollowed his chest, most definitely the killing blow by something no smaller than a battering ram. However, his broadsword was laying in the coffin next to him, still ready if necessary.

However, no deathbells there either.

A sudden sound echoing in the darkness had you flinching horribly, heart beating erratically. Bora brought her bow up with lighting speed, aimed at the sound's source. It echoed again, a soft howl of the wind from the entrance the crypt now had. It was entirely possible that there were other holes in the crypt, much like the one you used to get in, and with the passage open, it was bound to happen that a few stones would tumble down, creating the scary echo. However, these rational thoughts did not calm your heartbeat, and even though they uprooted you from your petrified stance, it made your step quicker as you inspected another coffin. If your heart could have plummeted more, it would, as your new cache was without the treasure you looked for and the last coffin was still intact and sealed shut.

The main hall you were currently in held the bodies of approximately four clans. The different runes on the sides of the stone slabs indicated the names of the buried and the periods of their demise. If you knew you had more time (and your visit was much safer), you would love to spend ages in these halls, dotting down the nuggets of information that could prove useful. Warriors weren't the only ones who found eternal rest here - with the death of a clan leader, the maids, intelligence and healers were sent to the otherworld as well. You knew it was highly immoral, but if by chance you found a coffin of a healer with their tomes still with them, you would not be above taking it to rediscover cures for diseases that were swallowed up by time, and yet still made a comeback every now and then to wreak havoc.

Bora began moving as well, a soft sway here and there to make sure all the dead stayed that way, her bow and arrow still locked and ready to shoot. Keen eyes scanned the main hall, and yet they always returned to that narrow hallway leading most probably to a different room- crypts were often built with intermingling rooms designed for occasional pilgrims or guards, and so it wouldn't be surprising for you if it was exactly some descendants of the resting clans who took up the responsibility to protect the bones of the elders from grave robbers. Grave robbers like you, you realized with a wry quirk of your lips.

However, the light still made you feel uneasy, rightly so. It is strange to see something that so clearly indicates living presence in a place where everything should have been dead for decades. Trying to push that thought deep back into your mind (and turning around to see that the entrance to the cave is still a straight line and a few long strides away from you), you moved to inspect more of the graves. Bora was still on your left, snooping through the other clan's resting places. You knew that even though the warrior is checking out some of the coffins herself, you wouldn't be able to stop from checking them on your own as well. You wanted to get out of here, as soon as possible.

And your blood froze when from the corner of your eye, you saw a figure standing on your right.

A pained whine left your lips as your legs instinctively jumped away from the unknown character that was standing exactly in the mouth of the hallway that had you feeling uneasy. Your sound alerted Bora, and she was by your side in a moment, arrow already whistling through the air, aimed exactly at the figure's head.

His hand shot out and with a burst of blue energy, it knocked the arrow out of its intended trajectory, making your knees buckle. The person was clad in what most definitely were black robes a long time ago, but the time spent underground tattered the cloth and the dust ingrained itself in the fabric probably indefinitely. His hood was resting on his back, revealing an elderly man with his scalp left bare by his hair falling out in literal clumps. Two linear marks ran down his cheeks in the brownish color of dried blood, sliding down his neck and into the robes.

He tilted his head to the side curiously, crazed eyes bulging out of his skull as he stared at the two of you in extreme interest.

"Living brides? I haven't had those in a while," a voice crinkly as old papyrus cut through the tension of the room, and it was only then that you realized that what you first thought was just dust settling behind the figure were the spirits of two young women, looking both disconnected with whatever was happening to them, but sorrowful at the same time. The necromancer licked his lips, as if that would help the dry chuckle that ripped from his throat.

Necromancers were considered a myth in the capital. After they were banned from the mage's association, they were viciously hunted down for their predatory behavior and more than unconventional preferences. And yet here was one standing before you, and you suddenly wished you never opened the door for the strange party that went searching for you for help.

The wolves waiting outside must have felt the sudden change of ambience, because you heard distressed noises and a hiss of your name echo through the hole. You only had enough time to whimper Sehun's name back before the necromancer was swinging his hand in the direction of the entrance, and as the whole crypt shook, the rocks blocked your escape route. The wall shook at the hits from the other side, but the rocks did not budge. You were stuck.

You heard more whistling through the air as Bora tried her shot once more, only to be dodged by the necromancer, who did not appreciate her attempts at getting an arrow lodged in his eyes. Another swish with his hand had Bora flying into the side of the crypt, a hit tough enough to leave her crumbling on the ground to catch her breath. He frowned, looking over at you with an almost sympathetic look in his eyes.

"Why is your friend being so mean? I will treat you so well. Just ask the girls," he exclaimed, his arm swiping back to the looming spirits hovering weakly in the air. Your eyes filled with tears and with quivering hands, you reached for the dagger that was on your hip in a cutely valiant and yet apparently useless attempt to protect yourself from the menace standing in front of you.

"You do seem to be very docile dear, and I like that in my brides. She, on the other hand," he only flicked his head over to where Bora was already standing with a deep frown on her face, silently evaluating the situation, "needs to learn, that every action has consequences." Spreading both his arms wide, the blue energy that you witnessed moments ago burst through the hall in a blast that had you falling to your knees.

For an excruciating moment, you thought nothing bad happened, and maybe the necromancer was at his energy's end. Your heart lurched forward however, when you noticed another flicker of blue lights in your periphery, and you turned to look just in time as one of the dead warriors was slowly waking back to life, the blue flickering orbs illuminating the space where his eyes used to be.

The tall, lanky body stretched as if they were merely asleep for a very long time, cracking at the joints of their neck and shaking off the lethargy from their rotten flesh. A sudden clash of metal against metal had both you and the warrior jump in surprise. Bora had already engaged one of them, her shortsword looking pitiful against the battleaxe-wielding maiden.

It was surprising to still be able to recognize the deep hatred in a face stripped of all muscles.

"Aim for the heads, ___!" Bora yelled as she pulled a hidden dagger from her pouch and swung with her other arm, promptly dodging the already derelict helmet and striking the undead in the temple. The shieldmaiden stepped back from Bora as if she were confused, before collapsing into a heap of bone and rot and not moving again.

The bodies had a mind of their own. And their main thought was to fight.

With that thought you turned back to the body whose awakening you witnessed just moments ago and dodged a swing of his sword by a hair's breadth. You stumbled back to the ground and kept retreating from the numerous hits the evidently angry body rained down upon you, and in the process the dagger slipped from your clammy hands, cluttering pointlessly to the ground.

This was it, you thought. This was how you're going to die, cursed to become a bride for a deranged individual who preferred the company of aggressive dead.

"The HEAD, ___, get the heads!" Bora told you once more as an arrow swished past your shoulder and struck the incoming warrior in the forehead. In an attempt to escape being squished by the falling body, you rolled to the side, precisely on one of the already awakening warriors.

The shieldmaiden opened her mouth and screeched in insult, and it was an almost automatic response that you lifted the nearby goblet and jammed it into her head numerous times, not even realizing how soft the skull became. It must have been the magic that allowed the necromancer to give the bodies thoughts of their own but made them extremely vulnerable to being destroyed if you knew what you were doing.

You didn't know what you were doing. You were here to collect deathbells, and not to become fertile soil for them.

You stopped once the skull resembled more mush than bone, and you promptly turned over to heave your breakfast onto the ground beside you. Your whole body shook, and you wished Tao was there to stop time because you needed to take a breath, but the dead kept on rising, kept on turning their attention to the object that was moving around in the crypt the most. Bora almost looked as if she were dancing, the graceful movements of her sword slicing through her dead enemies that seemed to be coming in great numbers.  

The wall where your entrance was before shook every now and then, trembling under the powerful blows of the three werewolves standing outside, however the necromancer must have fortified the fallen rubble because it did not budge even though you were sure that under normal circumstances the rocks would have been sent flying.

Trying to shake off the sickness that took over your body, you reached out for the mace that was placed right next to one of the still resting bodies. Just as you lifted it, the magical blue hue appeared behind its rotting eyelids, breathing life into the dead flesh. However, this time you were prepared for it and you immediately brought the heavy, jewel-studded head of the mace down onto the face of an ancient warrior, sending him back to timeless eternity. Learning your lesson from last time, you quickly turned away from the wound as to not make yourself sick again and looked over at Bora, who was slowly becoming overwhelmed.

It was a while since Bora's last opponent was something bigger than a fox, and a horde of undead warriors was no doubt a formidable enemy. Even if their movement was sluggish and uncertain (if you had the time, you would ponder in fascination on what made the monsters move, since all the nerves would be the first to rot away and muscles were found scarcely on some of the bodies, the polished bones shining against Baekhyun's torches abandoned on the ground), they seemed to have endless energy, and if Bora didn't hit them in the head, they would keep returning. You could already see some of the wounds on Bora's body- a cut here and there, blood that seemed to be far too fresh to belong to any of the dead bodies.

In a graceful move, Bora sliced off both of her enemy's arms in two swift strikes before kicking the skirmisher in the chest. The body flew back towards you, and you swung the mace just in time to strike the head and put him out of commission. Bora was able to spare you a small smile before returning to fight against the others. Glancing around you quickly, you noticed not all the dead were risen. Maybe not all of them could be risen, for one reason or another, which meant that soon, all the enemies in these halls would be defeated, leaving you with the necromancer alone. The thought fueled you with some hope, and you tripped an unsuspecting skeleton charging at Bora before thoughtlessly stomping on its' head.

The mush of the skeleton stuck to your shoes like sludge. There are other rooms in the crypt. More undead. No escape.

Isn't all your fighting futile? The rubble from the entrance does not budge, and only the one above knows where exactly in the crypt you were right now. Even if the wolves would find a way to open the magically fortified locked entrance, they would no doubt have to fight themselves through hordes of these monsters and numerous of the necromancer's brides before reaching the two of you.

And you were growing tired. And even if she didn't show it, Bora was growing tired as well. Once you killed all of these undead, what then? Face the most probably centuries old necromancer on your own, who is probably raising more undead while you tried to fight off the crawling torso of a body that Bora couldn’t kill perfectly?

Your arms trembled as you brought the mace down once again, and that was when you felt invisible arms wrap around you tight, so tight you were worried that your bones would break like twigs. The air was pushed out of your lungs and the mace you held in your hands clattered to the ground with a loud noise.

The tips of your toes weren't touching the ground anymore, and you were unwillingly turned towards the necromancer, who was holding his hand out, beckoning you to come to him, yellow and rotting teeth grinning at you maliciously. You felt as if you couldn't move, no matter how much you struggled, and in the background, you could faintly hear Bora's scream of your name as she fought more aggressively against the lasting five warriors.

"No, fuck! ___!!" The necromancer was closer now, and the closer he was, the more disgusting and terrifying he seemed.

"You will serve just nicely," he rasped, and you glanced past his shoulder to stare at the two floating spirits behind him, renewing your attempts to wiggle out his binds in whatever way, because oh my god, you're going to end up just like them.

You had a whole life ahead of you. You just found a group you felt like you can belong in. You finally found that spark in your profession that seemed to be long gone and you gave up hope in forever finding again.

Looking so closely at one of the dead brides, you recognized her face as one of the girls who disappeared years ago from the capital. Word was that she escaped from an arranged marriage to be with her lover and the commotion died down after a few months. Seeing her now, forever bound to a madman, face void of any emotion had tears pushing into your eyes.

Bora was still fighting in the back, two undead with large axes keeping her busy, but she still kept glancing over at you, which cost her dearly, as one of the skeletons was able to catch her off-guard and slice into her side. With a surprised grunt, she turned and caught its head with a dagger, making the body crumple down in a bone heap.

"Eyes on me, darling." a sweaty palm gripped your chin roughly and tugged you back to stare into the crazed eyes of the necromancer. He was breathing deeply, whitened tongue darting out to lick at the bottom of his lip every now and then as he assessed you.

"Yes...yes..." he murmured, fingers tucking back the strand of your hair behind your ear. "You will do just nicely."

"Fuck no, __!" The sounds from everywhere were overwhelming. Bora's desperate groan as she no doubt got hit again for being distracted, the whole side of the crypt thudding in powerful blows, the quickened breath of the psychopath in front of you, breath rotten that made your stomach churn.

Is this how you were going to die?

The palms gripping your head heated up, and they soon began to burn at your skin, making your whole head ache as if put through a torturing device. The aching burn slithered down your neck slowly, spreading over your collarbones and sliding down to the tips of your fingers, over your chest and hips. You squirmed in discomfort, the whine slipping past your lips pathetically weak.

"It won't take long, my love. You will be a fine addition, just don't move. It will be all over soon."

The ache traveled past your thighs, wrapping around your legs and knees in a vice, and you almost felt your joints dislocating under the pain. When it reached your toes, your whole body pulsed once, twice, thrice.

Before it re-started its trek up your body, leaving numbness behind.

You couldn't wriggle your toes.

You couldn't move your ankles.

The numbing feeling was moving higher up your body, and with it, it was taking your soul. Your eyes must have revealed their despair, because the necromancer laughed, moving so close your noses touched.

"Why are you so afraid, petal? It doesn't hurt, does it?" You wished it would hurt. Anything would be better than the slow and deliberate, fully conscious feeling of life leaving you.

Everything went silent, and that's how you could almost hear the blood flow in your body still. Your legs hung limply from the hold of the necromancer. You couldn't feel the tips of your fingers anymore.

"P-please don't do this..." you begged, voice quivering so bad it barely came out.

"Just a while longer," the man cooed, tongue licking over the bottom of his lip hungrily. "Just a while longer and your mine."

The bottom of your ribs began to tingle. Will your heart stop when it reaches them?

Your life flashed before your eyes, replacing the ugly murderer in front of you. You saw your cozy home, filled with vials that helped countless people. You saw your friends, laughing carelessly over the latest gossip and every handsome man that passed by your table. You saw Bora and the other mates, smiling at you warmly and welcoming you, a stranger, into their closest of circles.

You saw Sehun. Saw his smile. The way his bottom lip jutted out in a pout when his older brothers messed with him. The crease of his brows when the scar on his back began aching.

You saw how his whole body relaxed under your fingertips, as you cupped his face and stroked your thumb under his eye. The smile that slowly spread when you were the first thing he saw in the morning. His grin when he succeeded in teasing you. The way his lips felt against yours.

And you tipped your head back with the last surge of strength you could muster, snapping it back with as much force as you had.

There was a sickening crunch as your skull connected with the old man's nose.

You dropped to the floor, head banging against the cold stone. Your fingers twitched life back into them.

Swishing sliced through the air, before hitting its juicy target.

And as you looked up, the elven dagger glistened from the necromancer's surprised face. The body slumped back, hitting his brides, who disappeared into thin air.

The wall finally gave, and you heard three voices yelling your and Bora's names, although you heard it as if you were underwater.

And just as your eyes gave to the darkness, you glimpsed it right in front of you.

A deathbell.

Newsies Teen Wolf AU, but as scenes from different seasons that I find slightly hilarious even though they have zero context.

1) Anchors, season 3 episode 13. This is the first episode of 3b, or the second half of the season.

Brief: Basically Jack, Sarah, and Race are seeing things now and are being haunted by nightmares because of a ritual they did to save their family. Race has night terrors, Jack's werewolf abilities are acting up, and Sarah sees her dead older brother.

Warnings: Mentions of death, PTSD, panic

___

"Okay, so what happens to a person who has a near-death experience and comes out of it seeing things?" Jack sighs as he sits across from Albert and next to Race, Sarah and Katherine filling in seats to the bench they sit at during lunch.

"And is unable to tell what's real or not." Race mutters, shoving a pretzel in his mouth and tapping his foot anxiously.

"And sees dead relatives." Sarah stares at the table of the bench, a far off look on her face.

"They're all locked up because they're insane." Katherine doesn't flinch at the unappreciative looks she gets.

"Can you at least try to be helpful, please?" Race doesn't withhold any of the sarcasm he's known for. He stares Katherine in the eye, neither backing down.

"For half my childhood, I was locked in a freezer, so, being helpful is kind of a new thing for me." Katherine offers Race am equally sarcastic smile, her arms crossed on the table.

"Alright, come on, are we seriously still milking that?" Race huffs. Katherine stares at him like he's grown a second head, the other three teenagers at the table trying not to laugh or scold Race.

"Yes, we're still milking that." Katherine deadpans. Everyone is so invested in the pending argument between Race and Katherine, they don't notice that they've been joined until the newcomer sits down next to Jack.

"It's Bardo." Everyone jumps as Davey sits next to Jack and across from Sarah, receiving a panicked look from his twin. Jack tenses, knowing Davey is only just now accepting Jack as an acquaintance. "It means In Between, quite literally between life and death."

"David, I'm sorry-"

"Save it, nothing surprises me anymore." Davey offers Sarah an understanding expression, making the girl immediately relax. "But if you ever hide something like this from me again, I'm taking back my copy of the Avatar movie."

"Hey, wait a second-"

"So do you mean Bardo in Tibetan Buddhism or Indian?" Albert interrupts Sarah before she can start an argument with her brother.

"Either, but everything you guys were talking about happens in Bardo. There are different progressive states that range from seeing things, hearing things, and even being visited by peaceful and wrathful deities." Davey shrugs like it's the most commonly known thing. Jack stares wide eyed, knowing the only other person at the table who might know about this is Albert. Is this what Davey learned while he was homeschooled last year? No wonder Sarah wanted to go to public school.

"Wrathful deities?" Katherine inquires, glancing to Sarah in concern.

"Demons, essentially." Davey matches Katherine's expression, although his moves around the table to Race and Jack. Jack's neck heats up as Davey looks at him, although he quickly frowns when he doesn't understand why.

"Demons. Why not?" Race runs a hand down his face.

Just when they thought they could catch a break from all the excessively crazy supernatural stuff.

____

2) More Bad Than Good, season 3 episode 14. This is the second episode of 3b.

Brief: Spot and Oscar have been kidnapped by hunters while in Mexico. That's about it.

Warnings: Torture and maybe a bad word. Mentions of death

Notes: Oscar is Spot's older cousin who he has a strong hate/tolerate relationship with. Spot is two years older than Jack and Race, making him nineteen. Also note, I'm interpreting the spanish used from my years taking Spanish and from how the show translated it, please correct me if I'm wrong so I can fix it!!!

____

"Why are you looking at me like this is my fault?" Oscar borderline whines as Spot glares at him.

"Because it is your fault." Spot pants, his body hanging almost limply as his wrists stay tied above him to the chain link fence. A switch flips and Spot's entire body seizes, pained grunts passing his lips as electricity travels through his body. Oscar is not different, both boys arching their bodies away from the fence that the electricity courses through. After what feels like an eternity, but was only five seconds, they both slump against the fence, catching their breath as their bodies twitch uncontrollably.

"Yeah. You're probably right." Oscar breathes heavily, his muscles spasming. Suddenly there's another switch and Spot can't hold back a scream from the pain that courses through his body, his wrists straining against the cuffs holding him to the fence. It's gone as soon as it comes, but the pain seems to only increase once Spot can feel his body again as it heals itself. Oscar is all but hanging from his wrists now, hardly supporting himself.

"I've seen some crack their teeth. Others, they just shake and shake even after their heart stops. Sometimes we don't even know they're dead." Spot and Oscar both groan, recognize the voice as the man who had been torturing them for the last two days. And all over some dumb myth. "But nobody wants to play a guessing game. So, why don't you just tell us? Where is El Lobo?"

"We don't know where El Lobo is." Spot strains to look the man in the eyes, his body heavy like lead.

"Maybe you need a different method of persuasion? Maybe we cut one of you in half, the other talks?" The man smirks. Spot clenches his jaw, thinking of any way possible to get out of his current situation. Of course, his smart mouth of a cousin has to start talking.

"I would love to volunteer, but we really don't know what you're talking about. And honestly, isn't bisecting people with a broad sword a little medieval?" Oscar squints at the man. Spot knows Oscar's only going to get them killed if he doesn't shut up, although he also knows his cousin's ability to mouth off while simultaneously not dying is almost a superpower.

"A broad sword? We're not savages." Spot glances nervously over to Oscar as the man winks at them, although Oscar seems pretty happy with himself.

Until a chainsaw whirls.

It takes every fiber in Spot not to use all his power to break his restraints and strangle Oscar. Even if he could escape, there are far better things he could do than waste his time on his sorry excuse of a relative.

"Boys." A new voice makes both boys chained to the fence drop their shoulders and the man with the chainsaw to turn it off and step back. An older woman walks closer and starts saying something in Spanish.

"No hablo español." Spot pants, he body still recovering from the electric shocks.

"Tu hablas muchos idiomas, Sean Conlon. You know exactly what I'm saying. And you know who we want. Where is The Wolf?" The woman glares at Spot. Spot shakes his head in defeat, having had this conversation countless times in the past two days.

"We don't know any Wolf." Spot looks the woman in the eyes, hoping in vain that this time she'll actually believe him.

"I know you won't talk, lobito. But this one? This one loves the sound of his own voice." The woman steps in front of Oscar, a calculating look on her face.

"You should hear me sing." Oscar grins. Spot clenches his jaw, knowing Oscar could very well have just signed their death certificate.

"We want to hear you scream." The woman's grin is wide.

"No one ever wants to hear me sing." Oscar mock pouts, receiving a wide eyed glare from Spot.

"What could we do to persuade you? Where is The Wolf?" The woman seems to ponder the thought and Spot notices her hands moving behind her back. Suddenly she moves and not even two seconds later, Oscar is screaming. Spot wants to gag when he sees what appears to be a finger on the ground.

"Think about it. I'll only ask nine more times." Spot watches her leave, eyes still wide and brows furrowed. He watches the woman exchange a look with the man and the man smirks at him whole Oscar pants heavily next to him, occasionally whimpering.

The man reaches for the dial.

And everything flashes white.

____

Hey all! So these are just some of my favorite scenes from Season 3b of Teen Wolf. They aren't necessarily funny by any means and they probably don't make sense if you haven't seen the show, but I hope these were enjoyable to read.

Please send me any scenes you want to see or any recommendations you have! I'm open to anything!

(the sb anon again) was hesitant to send another... here's the prompt that i wasn't able to fit in the last msg set in the archieverse shadow always had a secret admiration for blues' wayward attitude but chose to abide to his given orders after blues' betrayal, shadow's longing to be free like him begins to surface ahhh i'm sorry if i went overboard and got into specifics, you could also take your own liberties! have a nice day! ヽ(；▽；)ノ

I had to look up what broodish meant in ur the last message, but I agree with it. I end up writing a lot about what characters are thinking because my mind is always just;;; Running... I’m not a huge ShadowBlues fan (I only really ship TempoBlues and since I ship BassRock- BluesBass has become my enemy)  And I feel super inspired by ur message!!! It isn’t perfect for how you asked, but I hope, that you liked it anon!!!

But y’all, send me all the rare pairs!!! I’m so happy to have enthusiastic peeps here, send me everything that is N O T I N C E S T.

____ Shadow has always thought Breakman, Protoman- whatever stupid identity he obsessed over at the moment was a strange conundrum. His past was ruled by dictatorship and orders. To not abide by Terra’s rules, to not believe in Ra Moon and worship him like the deity he was, the great and malevolent ruler, meant death. If he could be honest to himself, he didn’t miss Ra Moon too much. But why he didn’t he wasn’t sure. He should miss him, the last part of his past, he was supposed to help him rule the earth and yet he failed and while it felt horrible, the pain had faded and he was lost and yet not, he still had orders to follow.  Dr. Wily was almost as strange to him as Breakman. He didn’t have much experience with humans, but he was fascinating in ways different from the creation of Dr. Light. It was hard to put into words, words were so fleeting and temporary. So easy to twist and misconstrue. They are held to loose definitions that are interpreted in different ways. Easy to replace with words that mean practically the same thing- actions are much louder. When someone hands you something without asking if you wanted, it spoke to how they thought of you. 

Protoman understood this. Wily did not. Why use 10 words when a 100 would do? He understood he hated Dr. light by the way he wanted him dead, he didn’t need a lecture.  Protoman, Breakman, he understood this. When he wanted to take him back to Dr. Wily, Shadowman deliberately wanted to provoke him into a fight. Just to feel his strength. He could tell, in a brief battle, the tide was turned to him, however, he wasn’t sure about a longer battle. It worried him. He could feel his faith in Wily waning, and if he were to flip, and he couldn’t manage him... 

Well, that’s what happened. It frightened him almost, the poison in his words as he spat to Wily. Unbeknownst to him though, Wily had made precautions to ensure he didn’t flip. Of course, such methods were against his moral standings, but he already knew Wily was not a fair or honest man. So he tried to not let it bother him. In the days leading up to the incident, Dr. Wily was flipping through a dictionary, angrily muttering to himself as he paged through the bounded pages.  “I suppose you wouldn’t know the definition of ‘Susurrus’ would you?” Shadowman stared.  “Chrissake, I can’t use the internet in case someone cracks my identity- God- how did anyone live without the internet?! Oh, finally, here we go, ‘whispering, murmuring, or rustling.’ Why wouldn’t you just say murmuring?!” he threw the science journal against the wall, Shadow didn’t flinch as it banged against his head and fell with a thump.  “These fancy types always use the long and complicated word when the lamens term would work better. It’s monotonous.” Shadow didn’t listen to the rest of his rant. The dictionary had opened to a word, and one stuck out to him.  wan·der·lust/ˈwändərˌləst/ noun: a strong desire to travel. "a man consumed by wanderlust"

He thought of Protoman. He was gone and hadn’t come back. But Wily was so sure of himself he didn’t ask him to leave. Well, that was fine. He had a perfectly fine time entertaining himself. But the word, “Wan-der-lust. Wanderlust. Wanderlust.” toiled around his head. Had he ever had a strong desire to travel? 

That was months ago. Megaman defeated Cossack's robots, and while he knew Wily was alive he had only heard rumors, like whispers of the wind. When he found him, gave him sort of a signal he would return, but for now he was a: vag·a·bond/ˈvaɡəˌbänd/ noun: a person who wanders from place to place without a home or job.

Living the life of wandering mindlessly. Sometimes he stayed in one place for several days, tucked for several days in a tree. Survival wasn’t much of a problem, he didn’t run on the energy canisters the robots of this miserable planet did. He was fine running the way he was, or so he told himself. But his enemy was boredom, and he fought it in an intense struggle. So much so he was most entertained having dreams. He once dreamt he had won a race, and spent the money on buying a ninja house and a red scarf.  The red scarf stuck to him. His silhouette was dark in the full moon as he stood over the house... It was a scene more suited to Protoman... He did betray Wily after all. He was angry at first, mostly at Wily for being so insistent and sure of himself, unable to accept he could have been wrong. But he supposed that it wouldn't matter, and he should be over it now. He had nothing to do now that he was alone. Without his master's orders, until there was a signal, there was a sign, he had to wait. He was growing tired of it.  

Protoman’s words echoed through his head, the last time he saw him. “I might be a coward, I might have betrayed Wily but at least I am beginning to understand who I am! Who are you? Who is Shadowman? All you do is follow orders! if you were without them what would you do?” Oh, he HATED him. Loathed him, of course, he wouldn’t understand.  Actions spoke louder than words, but those words cut deep. He couldn’t begin to understand his line of reasoning. The one who changed names and identities like the phases of the moon- which, tonight was a lovely crescent- understood himself better than someone who was told who he was from the very day he was made. it was ridiculous. 

...Although... He had time to think. He asked himself, when had he ever felt wanderlust. It was that longing in his chest when he stared at the stars, the miles sprawling in front of him. He had seen himself had bright they shined, and how endless space was. Insignificant, but together in an army, he was part of something bigger. That claimed planets and conquered galaxies. 

But he was just a speck. All this time, he wanted to be more than a speck. He tried to hard, but, he was a- “Goddamn fool!” Or was he? The thoughts contradicted and ran away in his head. he did not miss Wily. Not in the slightest.  But he did miss Ra Moon. As much as he said he didn’t miss him as much as he should, Ra Moon was a scary but dominating presence. You could feel how insignificant you were to him, and that was beautiful because when you were beside him, you were part of a being that was just so much more. 

“I want to be free,” he said in a susurrus. 

It felt right. For once words spoke louder than actions. And he would have sat there in the grass surrounded by a limited amount of trees if his instincts had not overridden that. He stood on his feet, shuriken glinting in the moonlight and he stared where the leaves of the tree rustled. 

Protoman stood there, and the silhouette was not perfected, but his visor shined, and scarf rustled perfectly with the wind.  “...Shadowman, put that way, it’s too nice of a night to fight,” he scoffed like he had offended him. Shadowman was so shocked by this he let out a slight “huh” sound. Begrudgingly, he did put it away and crossed his arms. 

“...It was a nice night.” 

“Right. So... Shouldn’t you be with Wily?” “A nice night like this would be better spent without company.” “Yeah? Well... I’m going to assume that means you don’t know where he is.”

“Do you have any idea?” Protoman shook his head and dropped down from the trees. “No. I want to though, so I can kill him,” he added “That’s impossible.” “Hmmm... Maybe.” What does that mean?  “Well, I took your advice. It’s wonderful, being bored all day with nothing to do.”

“You didn’t take my advice then. Who is Shadowman?” “...” the fact that Shadowman didn’t have anything that wasn’t abstract after 30 seconds spoke a lot. Protoman crossed his arms, giving off a smug aura.  “Well. Fine, who is this ‘Protoman?’“ “...Someone who wants to go home but can’t.”  Shadowman stared at the stars for another moment. “...If that is how you define yourself, I suppose we have that in common.” “Really... Huh.” they both gazed at the stars for a long while.  “...If you’re bored, you could come with me.” Shadowman's eyes shifted to him, and then shifted back forward.  Another moment, where words spoke louder than actions. A vagabond to offer company on their wanderlust was not something he expected. He nodded.

I received a question longer than 8 parts that I’m going to post here (it was off anon, so I’m not revealing the identity of the question asker). I’m not going to answer it because my FAQ very clearly sets an 8 question limit and also as you will see it didn’t actually provide a lot of useful information despite the length. I am however going to talk through some of the issues, specifically relating to unnecessary information. Needless to say this will be a very long post hence the read more link.

Before I begin I want to give the origins of the 8 question limit:

-it’s an arbitrary number. felt it was generous and iirc I did go back and look at some past questions to see what was on the longer but still reasonable side

-I did it mainly because copying and pasting each individual question is tedious and also there is a limit to how much I’d like to read and also some people see ‘no more than 8 parts’ and instead of interpreting this as “I should edit myself as thoughtfully as possible” say “I should expand whatever I have to say to 8 parts long, even if it really is only 6 parts worth of material” so 8 was a number I could live with.

-I have yet to find an 8+ part question that couldn’t have been edited to a much shorter question while still keeping the same amount, case in point:

I'm asking for outside help because I've been on a hamster wheel for years where I believe I found my type get happy for a couple hours/days, find all the "signs" of me being that type all along and then...wake up not believing it. Or I see/read something that type is supposed to do/think like that doesn't fit me at al, or see someone I'd like to be like that it's another type and start digging again. I desperately need to arrive at a final typing because it's driving me crazy, I can't quit 1/9

Any preamble that amounts to “could you please type me” can be summarized to “could you please type me?”, a 5 -word phrase. This might however be the preamble that hits the most of my “oh I do not want to engage with this” buttons though:

Long and pleading which makes me kind of uncomfortable, like I do not know you and I don’t handle pleading and begging well anyway

Overinvestment in figuring out their type when often it’s times like this when taking an extended break from MBTI would likely be the best thing for you and indeed your overemphasis in getting an answer rather than learning about yourself might be what’s making it so hard to type

Also when someone says they’ve been trying and trying for years I get nervous because there is a very real chance they’re going to say a lot of stuff that is consciously or unconsciously pulled directly from MBTI descriptions and it’s going to be absolutely useless to work with.

[I should note for this and the rest of my criticism: I have, obviously a whole lot of preferences and dislikes and expecting you to cater to all of them would be completely ridiculous. Had this been an 8-part question I would have answered it, even if that answer might have been “I can’t tell”. As is, however, I’m hoping this might serve as some insight into how to make your question as good as possible which as a bonus will make me more likely to spend lots of time on it because I will be impressed and delighted by your effort.]

When interested in something I gotta find out how it works, or how it’s made. I find that as interesting as the thing itself. I see the way different elements can influence each other in arriving at a certain outcome, and I make decisions according to it. I trust my own reading of what’s probably going on. I trust patterns, things are often connected, not a coincidence. I usually judge fast and hard. I can change my mind very quickly if new facts comes in, but I’m very rarely neutral or 2/9

Some examples would be nice. I mean maybe this person is intuitive and maybe a thinker, although that first preamble didn’t sound very thinker to me, but also everything here is purely in the realm of subjectivity. Obviously we’re going to be subjective about ourselves, but a big part of why I want examples is that it forces people to not say stuff that sounds like it’s ripped directly from a type description.

or uncertain about things/people.I don’t like to make promises because of independence and not wanting to promise what I can’t deliver. I dedicate so much time to my personal hobbies I forget my chores. I tend to get obsessed in finding an answer to something until I get so dizzy/overwhelmed I’m forced to step back (typing myself in different theories is the best example). Hate to see people passing on wrong information and therefore misleading others. I gotta step up and correct them. 3/9

This is fine, I’d still like clearer and more specific examples but it’s fine; the one criticism is when someone starts taking about how they approach MBTI as an example in typing them it’s like PLEASE DO A HOBBY THAT ISN’T ABOUT NAVEL-GAZING, IT WILL IRONICALLY BE MORE HELPFUL.

I have very high standards, specially towards myself. My pride is heavily tied to being great at the things I care about, or am expected to perform. Really can’t stand biased judgements and behaviour by others, and police it in myself too. Truth is my #1 value. I have a natural thirst for and ease at handling a lot of data about whatever I’m interested in. One of biggest pet peeves is resistance to facts. I’m highly observant of things and people around me, there’s so much information I get 4/9

 Okay this sounds kind of like a repeat/rephrasing of a lot of the information in the first two actual content parts (talking about interests, thirst for knowledge, judgement), and editing that down probably could have saved you an ask space thus getting you your answer. If you find yourself running long, go back and see if you are repeating yourself. I do this a lot! When I make blog posts here I don’t care, because this is my place and I do what I want, but I have a tendency to ramble in emails too and I always do a second pass if it’s longer than a paragraph to make sure all the information in there is helpful in making the point I need to make and isn’t repetitive (unless my point is DON’T FORGET THIS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD in which case some thoughtful repetition is often good).

advice, or cried in front of others myself so I can’t relate.I’m very open minded when it comes to physical differences, cultures, orientations etc. But I have a Strong sense of wrong and right that when crossed leads to indignation and promptly “cancealing” people, cutting them off my life. I felt very uneasy when I realized that things I felt a connection to (favorite color, number, animal, flower) lost their meaning to me. Logically I know it’s not a big deal, but it felt like I lost 6/9

so I think we lost a question here (I got 9 questions, but the last question said 10/10) which is another reason to keep it short – fewer opportunities for tumblr to eat it. Although, had two questions been eaten by Tumblr I would have probably answered this, but that’s probably not a gamble you want to make. Anyway this is emphasizing the strong judgements again, and a little emphasis is actually fine – it helps me know what is really important to you – but again, if you’re running long that should be a thing to cut, after the unnecessary preamble.

something. .I need to express my thoughts/opinions, but my feelings are private.I have a huge fear of failure that holds me back. I’m terrified of finding out I suck at what I’d love to do, so I keep that as a fantasy and don’t try it out, to not kill the possibility. I have self sabotaged to keep myself in “safe” spaces but I have realized the reason I’ve been so restless is because I have to honor my ambitions which have always been big and bold. Mistakes and deficiencies jump out at me 7/9

 The information here is mostly fine (although again with the expressing and strong feelings), but it’s also again without examples. There have been precious few examples here, and that’s really difficult to type from – again, I’m not saying it’s easy or even fully possible to be objective about yourself, but sometimes people say “I have a thirst for knowledge” and it means they are pursuing a PhD in philosophy, and sometimes it means they are someone who thinks that reading Wikipedia pages is a personality. [brief aside on that – I don’t want to say reading Wikipedia pages is bad. It’s not. I do it. Yesterday I was interested in how African prints were made and I looked up the Wikipedia page on them, which after a few clicks into related subjects brought me to a page about the androgynous water deity Olukun who originated in Yoruba faith traditions, and it was super interesting. But like…this is just a thing most generally curious people do and not a particularly unique or special indicator that you are smart, which is how it often seems to be intended.] Anyway my point is: examples, examples, examples. If you give specific examples I will be so much happier and more excited to type you because I actually feel like I can say something meaningful.

like neon, I can make very precise and detailed of anything’s quality in seconds. I have little patience with people that are not interested in improvement or resist positive change. Something that drives me nuts is lack of punctuality and money managing skills. I’m very annoyed by unrealistic people that ignore logic or constraints like resources. I’m equally impatient with people who only operate on what’s on the surface and is accepted as true: people who never question the common sense 8/9

Again there’s just…no examples. There’s also been a lot about what this person likes and doesn’t like about other people, and that would better be taken up by information (and examples!) about themself.

or status quo, that trust everything authorities” or the media tells them and never do their own research.I often don’t feel the need to actually do things to see if they’ll work, or try things out to see if I’ll like them. I’m pretty certain of things even before I experience them. I’m not inclined to be diplomatic and persuade. I convince by proving something with evidence, or making they see reason through logic argumentation, and point out possible consequences of choices. I compare 9/9

I’m always a little skeptical of people who think The Media is a monolith, just in general, but that’s neither here nor there. Also, here’s a reason why examples are useful – they provide context into the situation which addresses the very natural conflicts within people, vs. this: “I often don’t feel the need to actually do things to see if they’ll work, or try things out to see if I’ll like them. I’m pretty certain of things even before I experience them” coming from someone who just claimed they value truth above all. Like…this is at least in my opinion the opposite of what someone who values truth would say, because a person who values truth would check if things worked. Which isn’t to say this person is lying – but it means I’m going to have trouble because without, ironically enough, any evidence, which they say they like to use, I don’t know which of those conflicting statements is true or even if they are truly in conflict and just situationally dependent.

things/people a lot naturally because the similarities (and disparities) between them jump out. It’s hard for me to be really surprised at things, or at a person’s character.I’m impatient with learning and doing things that involve many steps/processes. I want to learn everything fast and am just now learning to grow discipline to stick to things in the long run if I don’t see quick progress. I find half baked concepts and theories very annoying, I don't like much ambivalence or vagueness 10/10

I don’t like much ambivalence or vagueness either, but here we are. Also, saying that you tend not to stick with things in the long run and are just developing the ability to do so if you don’t see quick progress does kind of make me have questions about you desperately trying to figure out your MBTI type for years as claimed before. Less is more because it gives you fewer opportunities to contradict yourself.

 Anyway, the takeaway: keep your preamble short (seriously - almost every time someone goes over the 8-part limit it’s at least partially because they talked about their MBTI typing journey for 1-2 asks when a single well-phrased sentence would be far more useful), keep your examples concrete and specific, focus on yourself more than what you think of others, and read what you wrote before sending it to me.