Bird site's currently in meltdown, so here's a funny little star-demon riding along with the irradiant particles to a new site. An Ashenvein Gate opens in a new dimension!

Hi! Just call me Ash for short. I'm otherkin, a trans fem writer, artist, and voice actress from a species of outer demons you _probably_ haven't heard of yet--the Carag. We're a very _affectionate_ bunch once you get to know us. I'm the creatrix of the Twin Spirals Mythos, and currently working on the smut horror webstory _Analogue Ruins of a Girl I Once Gutted._ I like to write about terrible evil women exploring both monstrous impulses and gentler desires.

I'm very excited to see what unfolds on these new horizons, and I hope to find some new faces to share them with me--not to mention, reconnecting with any I already know.

~Ash~

My eyes tell me I’m sitting at a computer in a room I keep coming back to. Am I the cursed object in this fantasy? Every time you send me away, I reappear. What happens when there’s no one left to get entangled with?

My heart tells me I’m sitting, horned and hopeless, with my legs dangling off one crumbling edge of a half-there highway. The sun’s gone, and the wind just howls and howls and howls. Snips and snatches of onramps, offramps, stretches in the sky like bridges to nowhere. A million roads and nowhere to go.

Atop every melancholy spire, everywhere worn-down concrete still upholds a span from the million roads that once were one, there’s another figure sitting and staring out at the barren rocks below. Sometimes we’ll look to each other. Some are like me. We’ve got wings. Others have ropes. We could gather.

Why, though? Would the view be any different from someone else’s seat? Let’s all be alone together. Nothing to do but wait for the world to finish crumbling.