#because here be outright blasphemy

[and-this-of-all-my-hopes]

So, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I keep seeing metas about how Aziraphale wants Crowley to return to Heaven and be an angel again because he wants them to be on the same side/be good/change/etc., etc., etc. but I don’t see that at all. I actually see it as the very opposite.

Aziraphale loves Crowley just as he is. But there’s something more. Something huge.

Aziraphale loves Crowley and because he is an angel who is stuck in seeing things as black and white, he constantly praises Crowley for being nice. For being good. For being kind.

Aziraphale has watched Crowley on and off for 6,000 years. He watched him thwart the plans of Heaven and Hell because it was unjust. He spared the lives of innocents. He did small things that made Aziraphale happy just because (like making Hamlet successful and saving valuable books). And because Aziraphale sees things in black and white, he sees all the things Crowley has done as nice, as good, as kind.

Crowley vehemently attests he’s not nice or good or kind.

He’s not exactly wrong nor is he lying when he says this. When Crowley spares goats during a cruel bet over a righteous man and swallowing laudanum to prevent a suicide, when he prevents Armageddon by working with Aziraphale and stopping the Anti-Christ from being the Anti-Christ, he’s not doing the nice/good/kind thing.

He’s doing the right thing.

Crowley chooses to do the right thing without hesitation. He is better than all of Heaven and Hell who have callous and dispassionate view of all existence because he questions, because he makes choices. Crowley sees the world for all its messiness and he sees himself. He sees a place where he fits in. He sees the blurred edges.

And Aziraphale sees that, even if seeing the blurred edges is hard for him.

But here’s the thing that Aziraphale can’t voice.

It’s the reason why he told Crowley about being allowed to return to Heaven and become an angel again. He doesn’t want Crowley to change. He doesn’t think Crowley is flawed. Or not enough.

It’s something that is so monumental that it cannot be put into words. Because to put it into words would be more than blasphemy. It’s down right unthinkable for anyone in Heaven, Hell, or Earth to say what Aziraphale knows deep in his soul.

God was wrong to cast out Crowley.

Aziraphale believes Crowley can/should return to Heaven because he knows that Crowley should never have fallen in the first place. He wants him to be forgiven because when Crowley fell it was unjust. Aziraphale is trying to correct a mistake. He’s trying to do the right thing.

Yes, Crowley would never accept returning to Heaven. And Aziraphale was wrong to even suggest it (although that conversation is another can of worms to unpack).

Aziraphale loves Crowley. He loves him exactly as he is. He doesn’t want him to change. Aziraphale knows that Crowley the best of all of them. He wants to change Heaven because of it. Because God was wrong and Aziraphale knows it.

Aziraphale may have difficulty seeing beyond black and white, but when it comes to Crowley he sees everything crystal clear and in vivid color.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #hold on to your butts #because here be outright blasphemy #aziraphale #crowley #neil gaiman #warning this post has been known to cause psychic damage #and in one instance a proposal of marriage #neil liked this post #whaaaaaaaaaaat #good omens spoilers #michael sheen #david tennant #ineffable husbands #tell me I’m wrong

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO SATORU x FEM READER

The Zenins want Megumi. Gojo isn’t having it.

wc — 1.7k

tags — one suggestive line after “those girls are better off without you” if you want to avoid it, set after 棠, part of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together

Gojo’s been in the doghouse since last night. Not literally, obviously - though he might have preferred it if you were there with him, at least. He’d take anything over being kicked out of your shared bedroom and being forced to sleep on the couch. 

If you had it your way, you’d prolong his punishment, but you can’t. Not when, as he told you last night, the Zenins are coming today to wrest Megumi from your custody. 

Fat chance. 

You’d die before you let that happen. 

Gojo’s not too keen on either of those outcomes. For the first time in his life, he’s taking the pacifist’s route and talking it out, though you’re sure his version of talking involves more insults than most people’s. 

He thought about simply having it out with the elders, but it’s not worth it. Not when he has a plan for the future of Jujutsu Society. Not when he has you, Megumi, and Tsumiki. He’s playing the long game. He can’t afford to screw it up now. 

Being a family man really has ruined him. 

Zenin Keiko is a tall woman with a severe black bob and the characteristic Zenin look of perpetual contempt. She’s Naoya’s cousin, alright. 

“Twice-removed,” Gojo whispers to you. “Or illegitimate. Something like that, I can’t remember.” 

“Shut up,” you whisper back out of the corner of your mouth. “She’s going to hear you.” 

Welcoming a Zenin into your home feels like blasphemy, though you suppose Gojo is the closest thing Jujutsu society has to a god. 

Gojo’s unimpressed by her, mostly because he feels like the Zenins are mocking him. It’s not like anyone can take him on, but to send someone who has no battle capabilities feels like an insult.  

Keiko is an auxiliary manager with no cursed technique to speak of besides a weak barrier. It’s a wonder she has the nerve to speak to Gojo. The Zenins truly did not care about her if they sent her as the proxy to undermine your roles as the Fushiguro children’s guardians. In fact, you suspect that’s the precise reason she was chosen - because she’s expendable. 

Keiko, to her credit, shows no sign of fear. 

“I’d like to meet the children, Mr. Gojo. It’ll give me a good grasp of what the situation is.” 

“Hell no,” Gojo outright laughs in her face. “I’m not letting a Zenin near my brats. Your-“

“Gojo.” You squeeze his knee. Cooperate. 

“I’ll go get them,” he says begrudgingly.

The two of you sandwich the children between you on the couch. Tsumiki sits on Gojo’s left. Megumi sits on your right. That way, the two that are most likely to fight are separated. It’s a strategized united front. 

“Megumi, do you like your guardians? Do you like staying here?” 

Megumi looks at you. You smile at him encouragingly - and there Keiko goes, scribbling away in her notebook. She’s probably saying something about how Megumi is so scared of you he won’t answer the question unless you give him permission. 

“Are you sure? Forgive me, but Gojo seems a little…immature for a parent.” 

A direct attack right out of the gates. Gojo objects to this very accurate assessment of his character. 

“He’s fine, I guess,” Megumi says. There’s more scribbling. You’re starting to hate the sound of pen on paper. “I like-“ 

He looks at you. There’s a tiny blush on his cheeks, just the faintest hint of red. More quietly, he says, “It’s fine, cause she takes care of us.” 

Gojo stares at him, slack-jawed. “Are you kidding me? You are one ungrateful brat. Who found you? Who took you in?” 

Tsumiki chimes in, “We like Gojo a lot too! He’s fun.” 

Keiko ignores her completely, focusing on Megumi instead. Your distaste for her grows. 

“Would you say that Gojo has an active role in taking care of you?” 

“Why aren’t you asking Tsumiki anything?” Megumi interrupts. “Her opinion’s important too.” 

Keiko gives him a strained smile. Gojo reaches behind Tsumiki on the couch to ruffle Megumi’s hair. He only tolerates this for five seconds before he shakes his head to get him off. 

“He loves me,” Gojo says. 

“I have Stockholm syndrome,” Megumi says. ‘Help,’ he mouthes. 

“He’s joking,” Tsumiki says nervously.

You’ve given up on making them behave. It’s just not happening. 

Keiko seems to have given up too. Rather than continue prodding Megumi, she turns to Gojo. 

“How often are you home?”

“Basically every day,” Gojo lies. He does try his best, but it’s more like every other day. Such is the fate of the strongest sorcerer. 

“Don’t want my baby all alone, poor little thing.” 

He catches your look and cackles. “No, the other one. My other baby,” and the kiss he presses to your knuckles is so tender it melts your heart. 

Keiko makes an uncomfortable expression. “Please try to stay focused, Mr. Gojo.” 

Megumi gags loudly. Tsumiki pinches his arm to get him to shut up and he yelps. Keiko narrows her eyes and makes another note. 

“I understand how Gojo might take responsibility for the children,” Keiko says, directing her attention to you, “but how did you come into the picture. Are you a girlfriend-“

“Wife,” Gojo interjects. 

Keiko’s entire body does an approximation of what it would look if a human had a screenshot function. 

“Aren’t you children?”

You don’t like Keiko at all, but you respect the balls it takes to talk to Gojo like that. All the Zenins seem to have that death wish of wanting to mouth off to the strongest. Maybe it’s a genetic thing. 

Gojo shrugs. “If I’m old enough for the missions you send me on, I’m old enough to take care of kids, right? How hard can it be?”

You pinch his thigh. “Gojo.” 

“What? It is easy. You just give them a bunch of lollipops and call it a day.” 

Keiko’s writing is now background noise to you. “Are you still doing that? I told you-“

“It’s fine! All kids need sugar to grow. I had a sweet tooth when I was their age.”

“And that’s probably the reason why you still have one now! Except it’s rotting your teeth-“

“It’s not-“

“It is!”

“Don’t be so uptight!”

“How does it look if I’m always saying no to him and you’re always saying yes? It isn’t fair, Satoru. Parenting has to be a team effort.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about you playing good cop, bad cop with him!” 

“Have you gone insane? We went over this! He likes you more than me! There is no good cop, bad cop when he just takes your side every single time.” 

“Excuse me,” Keiko says. She’s somehow managed to look a complex combination of perplexed, annoyed, and satisfied. “Please take care of your lovers’ tiffs outside of this interview. I will say that this doesn’t seem like an environment particularly conducive to raising children, however.” 

“What do you know?” Gojo says rudely. “The only reason you’re even doing this interview is because I’m letting you.” 

Normally, you would tell him off, but in front of the Zenins? You’re a united front. You place a hand on his forearm and look down your nose at the woman in front of you as best as you can when she’s taller than most people you meet. 

“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome,” you say. 

“You agreed to an interview,” she says. 

“An interview, not an inquisition.”

“You can’t refuse a request from the elders without consequences,” she says, as patiently as she would speak to a child. It’s condescending. 

“Are you threatening my wife?” 

When you look to your side, Gojo’s face is shadowed. His eyes are storm dark and frightening. Keiko can’t hide her visceral reaction. 

She forgets her coat on her way out, she’s in such a hurry to leave. Gojo takes it and disappears. 

While he’s away, you let Megumi and Tsumiki return to their rooms. They’re muttering amongst themselves, but you don’t pry. Children need their space, too. You’ll talk to them about it later. 

He’s back within a minute. 

“What did you do with it?” You’re bracing yourself for the answer. 

“I just sent a message,” he says, as cheerily as if nothing had happened. “Think we passed that?” 

“Gojo, I think that’s the first test you’ve ever failed. Did you see the way she was writing during the last twenty minutes? And Megumi and Tsumiki! Every time they said something, she made a face!” 

Gojo shrugs, still so certain of his place in the hierarchy. One day, the elders will get tired of him throwing his weight around like Jujutsu’s one and only tyrant, but not someday soon if they want to keep their heads. 

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’m not going to make Megumi and Tsumiki act like repressed little puppet children just so that they can find some way to snipe them out from under us anyways. Who knows, maybe we’ll teach the Zenins a thing or two about healthy child raising. I hear they have two girls now. One of them has no cursed energy. Should we kidnap some more children?” 

“Like you know anything about healthy parenting,” you snark. “Those girls are better off without you.” 

“Does being mean to me get you off or something?” 

“Do you want to find out?” 

“I would love to,” he purrs, sliding a hand under your shirt just so slightly so his nails prick at your lower stomach. You grab his wrist. 

“Sorry,” you say, your stomach churning at the joke gone wrong. “I can’t.”

He stops immediately. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just- They want Megumi badly enough to go to the higher ups. I know what they do to their children. I can’t let him go there, Satoru. I can’t.” 

“I won’t let that happen.”

“I can’t stop thinking about those girls.”

“Come here,” he says. 

You lean closer to him. He lifts his arm so easily, without thinking. When you slide under it, you fit into him perfectly. 

Now that you’re safely tucked under his arm, you feel sheltered from anything that could happen.  “I don’t want to give the kids to the Zenins. They’re monsters. And they would make monsters out of them.” 

“That’s only if they take them away,” Gojo says, his smile fanged and vicious. 

“And if they do?”

“I hope they try.”

You trust him. 

You know he’ll keep his word. If Gojo says Megumi and Tsumiki won’t be going to the Zenins as long as he’s alive, then they won’t be going at all. 

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

[avelera]

Thinking about blasphemy and Good Omens right now and I can't help but notice an interesting phenomenon around some discussions I've seen about the Second Coming and Jesus Christ being a character in S3.

Namely, I see much more underlying discomfort around the possibility of the show poking fun at the figure of Jesus Christ than I do with any other prediction discussion or discussion around religion in the show.

On the one hand, I completely understand how poking fun at the Antichrist dogma from Revelations doesn't feel particularly blasphemous, where poking fun at Jesus does. The Antichrist is a stock character of horror at this point. Many more disrespectful teams than Gaiman and Pratchett have played with that story. It's barely even considered poking fun at Christianity to have Adam, the son of Satan, be a good kid in Good Omens. But Jesus is a very important figure to Christians all over the world. There are devout Christians who truly love Jesus and no one wants to be a jerk by just outright disrespecting a figure that is dear to so many.

But on the other hand, expecting Good Omens to not make fun of Jesus is a bit absurd to me. Literally saying, "I don't think the satirical religion show is going to satirize religion because it might upset people." Gaiman hasn't shied away from messing with religion or religious bigots before. He gleefully shrugged off attacks over God being a woman, or Adam and Eve being portrayed by people of color.

The Book of Job is lampooned in Season 2. I know it doesn't feel like it to many people here, but the reinterpretation of the Book of Job in S2 definitely registers as blasphemy on some religious scales. It is satirizing a religious text after all.

Saying that angels and demons fall in love and worse, have that love be portrayed by actors of the same sex could be seen as blasphemy at the very least on the level of saying God is a woman. And by the way, it's not like these religious texts say "God is whatever you want the entity to be" or "God is a woman if that makes you happy". Hell no, the Bible is extremely damn clear on God being male. The official position of the Catholic Church is that God is male. Official Catholic dogma is incredibly anti-female in terms of inherent holiness, women cannot become priests, even nuns are dependent on a priest to deliver the Sacraments, it's a huge deal and they are not planning to change any time soon and it is totally unambiguous.

Making God explicitly female might not seem like a big deal since films like Dogma, another religious satire, did it in the 90s but to True Believes in the official doctrine, that is a form of blasphemy.

Good Omens is by definition a blasphemous work. How offensively blasphemous it is really depends on the devoutness of the viewer. And I find it interesting the extent to which there's something of a knee jerk, "Oh they won't do that!" in terms of further satirizing religion in the show about religious satire. As if Jesus hasn't been satirized in other mainstream movies before like the aforementioned Dogma or Life of Brian.

And here's the thing, my personal opinion is? Blasphemy is good! Blasphemy laws on the books mean it's ok to punish, hurt, or even kill a person for making fun of religion or just doing the religion wrong. Human progress has been frozen in place by blasphemy laws, sciences have progressed when blasphemy laws ease or often while deliberately concealing their efforts from authorities in places where blasphemy laws or laws that were otherwise based on the dominant religion exist.

If anything, I am actually a bit uncomfortable with the idea that Good Omens should hold back on lampooning a figure like Jesus Christ. If devout Christians will make laws that determine what other humans can do with their bodies based on their religion, then their religion should absolutely be open to outright mockery without punishment or ramification to anyone. Of course on an individual level I wouldn't wish to be offensive to someone sincerely religious but at the same time, I am also violently anti-censorship of any kind. And blasphemy and religious mockery are often right at the heart of censorship debates.

The world is a better place when we can openly mock religion.

I'm not going to caveat that as an opinion. Being able to openly and without fear discuss, criticize, and mock religion is an incredibly important part of any free society. The battles over this right have been vicious and bloody and are actively ongoing around the world. Just as an example, anti-blasphemy laws were on the books in Ireland until 2020, there was a huge campaign to have them removed because other countries were pointing to them as an example of why they should keep and exercise such laws.

My point is that I suppose this is something of hyperbole or alarmist or overly strident. I can understand people wanting to be decent about not openly mocking a figure of such importance to so many like Jesus. But quite honestly? I hope Good Omens does whatever it pleases with mocking Jesus. I hope they don't hold back. I hope people remember that being able to mock religion is really important, especially when representatives of that religion are actively trying to clamp down on the rights of others.

And honestly, if religious people are offended they should just not watch or they should develop a thicker skin if they expose themselves to such discourse. Religion and Christianity in particular is an active part of the public sphere. It is worthy of discussion. Public discourse often includes mockery, especially of the powerful and of powerful forces that steer the course of nations, like Christianity.

And I think it's important for Good Omens fans, who are a very progressive group, not to cherry pick and moralize over what satire or blasphemy is permitted. All satire should be permitted. All blasphemy should be permitted. The religious bigots don't care if you think God being a woman is ok but making fun of Jesus isn't. It's all the same, anything but glowing praise is criticism to some of these forces. Open discussion is far more important and yes, that includes mockery, and silly discussions in a silly show about an angel and a demon who avert the Apocalypse and fall in love.

#maggie rambles #good omens spoilers

[sapphic-woes]

A/N: I dunno honestly just like. You likey whamen but you godly woman oh no :C

_____________

The candles are blown out. Only a few servants walk the palace halls. The air is frigid. 

You don't like it. 

Nature itself is hostile to your misdeeds. No–heaven is–and it's staring down at your soul with contempt.

You let it. It's fitting.

It's irredeemable, to let debauchery enter his holy palace. To allow yourself to be tainted by it. Would the people you rule over honor you, if they learn of your deception? If they know how willing you are for her?

That you would throw away an eternity of salvation for a moment of her touch.

She has ruined me. The door clicks. It opens and swiftly shuts. Your weak heart is an endless drum, it beats faster with every moment her eyes rest on you.

Eivor. Resistance is futile in the face of your hunger. It aches. It claws. Have worldly desires always been so strong? Had your foundation always been so weak?

Like sinking sand, you're melting into her presence. At this point, your fear that all she must do is ask. For the harvest of your lands. The riches of your people. A piece of your flesh. 

The entirety of your body is an offering to her. No, it's tithing–it's payment for the freedom she gives each night. In return, you beg her to grasp your uncertainty in her hands. To crush it all away and leave only the bliss you feel under her touch. 

What was the price? Should she hold a dagger to your chest, you'd help guide it to your heart.

You don't tell her that.

You're still in the center of the room, as you always were whenever she came, growing suffocated under the bitter cold. You could have stayed under your blankets and waited. Certainly, she would have liked that.

But you're too restless to simply wait, haunted by guilt and tempting desire, and no amount of scripture was capable of satisfying the latter.

None, of course, but her very own.

"My Queen." The title rolls off her tongue, and it is blasphemy sweetly hiding poison. You must turn your eyes away. A lingering thought plagues you.  It's too weak to make you comply, yet too strong to outright deny. Regardless of the way Eivor addresses you, your indecisive movements didn't come off as royalty.  

Have I ever wanted something so badly? A tentative step feels like walking on thin ice. Have I ever been so afraid of that very same thing? Eivor was everything you yearned for, yet she was also someone you always told yourself to run away from. 

So why aren't I running right now?

"I…Eivor…" Words fail you. Emotions prevail. The ache in your heart is cruel. Perhaps deserving. Yet a selfish part of you wishes her to free you from it. 

How long must I simply endure?

You are tired of this sacrifice. 

"Come here, love." Her voice is soft. Gentle. She never fails to understand. She never fails to wait.

She knows the pieces carved out of you. She knows how intimidating it is to put them back in place. She doesn't mind helping.

"I've missed you too." She says what you dare not speak aloud, blue eyes bright with overflowing warmth. She drops down on one knee, arms open wide and fingers curling in a beckoning motion. She never treats you like a queen. Rather, Eivor spoils you rotten. 

It looks so safe, that space between her arms, and before you know it you're closing the gap between you two in a needy kiss.

Oh. It was rapture. Her unholiness. 

Where she touches you, there's glory–sweet and crisp as blessed honey. Calloused fingertips trace over your body. They're worn from battle yet soothing as she holds you. Her breathless laugh tickles your neck, and the sensation is something golden. 

She's here, alive and breathing. She's showering you with her love, clearing away the fear in your heart. You see the sun in her eyes, basking in the presence of her hands. 

You swear she is the essence of creation. How else could you change so much because of a single woman? With every press of her lips and stroke of her hand, the fear melts and is replaced by joy. What kind of bliss is this?

You don't know, and doubt you ever will–but you're more than happy to accept it. You want to be made new in her. You want your holy shackles broken beyond repair. You want to know the real you. Has heaven ever been so easy to touch? Perhaps it always had been, and you were simply looking in the wrong places.

#eivor x reader #female eivor #female eivor x reader #f!eivor x reader #eivor varinsdóttir #do u guys know how badly i wanted to title this heavens door and walk away.

[lol-jackles]

tumblr.com/lol-jackles/741426596160946176/

this is the post:

incarnateirony.tumblr.com/post/741037569962377216/im-a-complete-outsider-in-whatever-hell-is-going

If you're blocked this is the content:

Anonymous asked: I’m a complete outsider in whatever hell is going on here but I feel like you should let go of this person. Obsessing over them like this can’t be healthy

Goob: As a complete outsider, jump off a cliff. I’ve been getting harassed by her for three solid years, your tactic doesn’t work. This isn’t “obsession”. This is her getting the attention she’s been screaming for for three years while mind-raping me and using pictures of me for her sexual fetishes. Absolutely not. I stop when she dies.

If you don’t like it, fuck off, I will literally drag this bitch into the dirt after the three years of harassment she’s caused me in real life, online, multiple servers, fandoms and websites. Absolute rotten festering cunt. She was literally goddamn warned to stay off my dick, once every three months, for three fucking years, and she was still riding it and starting shit, so now I’m ending it. And the opinions of motherfucking people who care about me fucking up their fictional angel feed really do not fucking matter. She relies on weak ass opinions like this so she can keep on keeping on with her horse shit, and no, it’s over. You will literally have to ban me from the entire internet to make me stop before she dies or surrenders. It’s that simple. I am DONE.

I need you to comprehend I left this bitch three years ago, after she cheated, malignantly plotted to evict me to replace me with a new bf once she got her first check but let me pay the bills, and has since still absolutely stalked me everywhere anyway, invaded my servers, ripped off my face, my religious practices (badly), has been doing outright goddamn blasphemy, is grooming her friends into fetish roleplays using my fucking face, and she just invested SEVEN. GODDAMN. MONTHS. trying to invade YET ANOTHER FRIEND GROUP OF MINE to cause shit, and she got busted, and now her ass is on fire.

IT’S DONE. WE’RE DONE. THE MERCY IS GONE. SHE LETS US GO OR SHE DIES, IT’S THAT SIMPLE.

She wants me to be a demon, I’ll be a demon. She even signed to me. Moron.

Truly this woman was so obsessed she sat in a goddamn furry porn server for half a year trying to sniff out my friends and investors elsewhere. Like she was literally wailing trying to find the contact for one of my main business investors. To start more shit with, of course. Sis, that man let me do 13 billion dollars in damages to WB by proxy. He doesn’t care about your pissmoaning.

This isn’t “obsession”. This is me being tired of hers, and taking any means necessary to end the harassment I’ve been enduring on every possible front for literal years. Even if it means helping her remove herself from the planet and realizing what a service to humanity that is. I’m fuckin DONE. Like, literally, nothing of value would be lost. It’d actually be a net benefit because she’d stop scamming people with her octopus jibberish, plagiarized lines, and outright blasphemy of the god she claims but refuses to read the doctrine of and teaches contrary to.

She truly feels special cuz she can bullshit up some vague horse shit about someone’s grandma to make them feel better then writes retroactive dreams, like the one that only prophecized to her that she was about to get her cheeks clapped, after she got clapped, but she swears she had a vision dream that morning. ok. the other seven months?

Like the whore is even posing right now writing her fanfiction like it’s proof of something compared to my statistics. Yeah I too can shit out narrative horse shit, Shealyn. That doesn’t make you a mystic. She’s basically charging people for her obsession with me, her roleplay fetish, her schizophrenia and a big fat bucket of blasphemy she’ll rot in the void for. And drag some nice little practicing christians with her.

Am I christian? No. But I respect the texts enough to know what she’s doing is deeply fucking these people up. Like, they’re neither following Hermes nor Yahweh’s doctrine, they’re just following whatever octopus jibberish horse shit she hallucinates. It’s literally a cult. A cult she groomed into humping a copy of my face. Like a psychopath.

And no, that’s not the hyperbolic internet use of cult. It is the literal definition of a cult, wherein no classic doctrine is used, but rather the singular teachings of someone that generally revises other practices, and grooms them out of actually reading anything outside of it and, in this case, into humping pictures of me.

You, too, would be flipping shit if your cheating ex wife was convincing people to basically mindrape you while lying about whatever god or doctrine you follow just to try to copy you. And that’s BEFORE the trying to fuck with every friend group I have and my business. For three. Years. And that says nothing about her refusing to look in the face that she channeled motherfucking anime octopus jibberish trying to copy an inside joke. I use “channel” here loosely, obviously. Truly the most horrific skank I’ve had the displeasure of dealing with. Makes Vinnie and Kelios look like saints. And models. At least they’re under the 300 lb threshold and are open about their delusions being about fictional horse shit. They don’t even CHARGE for us to hear them spread their shit.

Trump deserves life more than this creature. At least I believe he’s genuinely retarded. She only acts this dumb, but it’s a conscious way she makes up for her own insecurities, and it’s by lying her way through to try to look divine. She doesn’t doesn’t care what it does to everyone around her. So yeah. Trump is more human than this creature. And, somehow, in better shape.

So yeah, fuck off. She has till September for part one, until 2027 for part two, until 2033 for part three, and the void beyond that for the rest of her penalties, but for right now, you can sit and spin on part one.

But you know, I think that’s fine by her. She’s too coward to end it herself but already experienced soul death and knows it, hence her refusal to build any actual identity. She’s just a sweaty meatsuit over there now going through the motions, I’m pretty sure she wants the void. Don’t worry bertha, they just have to widen the gate a little bit

well that and he realized you actually do want to die, I think, which is why he specifically opted for the “troll you until you do it yourself” route starting yesterday. Sorry Shea, he refuses to let you warp forcing him to reap you into something you can try to spin as a romantic gesture in hell. Like, he’s pretty sure you’re just waiting to grope him then too. Get away from us, you lying schizo slut.

THE OCTOPUS WAS NEVER FUCKING DIVINE, SHEA. YOU DID NOT CHANNEL THE FUCKING OCTOPESE.

Whoa, Goob is admitting that he will actively assist-suicide his ex-wife her by "helping her remove herself from the planet and realizing what a service to humanity that is." I hope the ex is screenshotting all of this gold.

I'll write a lengthier reaction in the next post to save space. Meanwhile in reference to Goob's Trump mention...

Even Newsweek agreed.

#goob

[bmodiwrites]

For Valentine's Day, I went with something a little... off the wall. I've seen a few 'my first crush was the preacher's kid' & 'i was the preacher's kid with a crush' posts that sparked this idea. I then listened to Devin in Me a billion times as inspo. You can read it on A03 here if you like that format better. Oh, & a special thanks to @starrystevie for the prompt. It's highlighted in the work, happy hunting!

Despite the sheer blasphemy of the statement itself, Eddie meets the love of his life at church.

It’s a fluke that he’s there in the first place. Wayne’s been eyeing up a lady living a couple trailers down from them. When his uncle heard about her attendance at church, he held a few things over Eddie’s head to get him to come with. It’s by the grace of Eddie’s love for Wayne that he gets up and puts on his most respectable outfit.

Still, he feels out of place the moment he walks through the doors. Everyone else is dressed in their Sunday best, full suits and ties, even a few hats to complete the look. In his black jeans and combat boots, Eddie sticks out.

Though, that’s just fine. He doesn’t really want to blend in with such a crowd, anyway.

They pick a pew that’s at the back of the small, one room church to make it harder for people to outright stare at them. It’s funny to watch grown people turn in their seats to check out the newcomers. Eddie gets a kick out of the little kids that have to stand up to turn around like their parents. He’s ballsy enough to wave back at one of them, even. The little girl grins and starts to make faces at him before she’s forced back down into her seat.

Everything is exactly how Eddie expects it to be. For a while, he’s too amazed by all the people and their contradictions to pay attention to the words coming out of Preacher Harrington’s lips. Eddie is a fully developed picture of what this very church fights against. It feels the slightest bit empowering to silently cast judgement upon people who look down at him every day.

Eddie’s interest is peaked, however, when the choir walks onto the stage and the prettiest boy he’s ever seen takes center position. He stands out amongst the crowd, not only because his robe is a stark white where everyone else’s is red. His hair is perfectly styled, his pale skin flawless. Eddie is certain he’s looking at an outright angel.

It’s refreshing to find that his angel is as heavenly as first expected – the voice that comes out of that beautiful boy is fitting for the wings Eddie is positive he’s hiding. Though the words go in one ear and out the other, Eddie is transfixed by lips that shape around a sound that resonates in his very soul.

Without any conscious thought, Eddie makes a decision right then and there – whoever that boy is, whatever he’s got to do, Eddie’s going to make him his.

Of course, he quickly comes to find out that his angel is the preacher’s son. Steve Harrington is a name Eddie’s been hearing for most of his life. It’s usually combined with a compliment about his hair or good looks or easy way with the ladies. Eddie’s surprised to find out that the preacher’s boy moniker isn’t the first thing people use to describe him. For some reason, it absolutely changes the way Eddie sees him.

Knowing it’s the only way to have a chance at getting closer to Steve, Eddie continues to go to church. Wayne looks at him oddly every time Eddie meets him at the door Sunday morning to get in the truck to head to the chapel, though he doesn’t say anything. Eddie can see he’s dying to ask but Eddie’s not there yet. When the time comes, Wayne will get the dirt he desires.

Eddie gets his chance after the fifth Sunday he forces himself not only to get up early but to make himself the least bit presentable. The choir is looking to expand the instruments they use during the service, so Eddie volunteers his guitar skills. Very carefully, Eddie plays through one of the songs he’s heard every weekend, recalling it all by memory as his fingers move over the strings.

When he’s done, Eddie looks up to see Steve Harrington staring at him with fire in his eyes. Eddie’s so done in by it, it takes him a second to realize he’s been offered a position in the pit band. He doesn’t break eye contact with Steve as he nods a yes and tries to be excited when he agrees verbally, too.

They are in the back of Eddie’s van a few hours later, tangled up together from head to toe. Despite being the demure little thing in church, Steve is a firecracker when the moment strikes. He is the one that makes the first move after Eddie drives them to Lover’s Lake. Steve reaches across the middle console so fast, Eddie isn’t prepared for the press of lips or the sudden rush of want that overtakes him.

Lust isn’t the only thing that strikes Eddie down, either. Every few evenings that Steve can get away, Eddie falls a little deeper in love with a boy that puts up a front for his father in order to live his own life when no one is looking. Steve is a complex person who knows a lot about the things he loves despite what the rumors say about him. His heart is big and wide open for the feelings that Eddie easily shares with him.

Coming together the way they do is dangerous, though made even more beautiful because of it.

Existing on the outside of everyone’s radar is a dream they live blissfully for a while. Steve is a professional at putting off his parents. He blames his time out of the house on study groups and dates with unnamed girls. Eddie gets him a few houses down so his recognizable van isn’t seen by either of Steve’s jailers. They’re careful and sneaky and able to be together freely for so long that slipping up is bound to happen. Eddie lets his guard down – like always, that weakness shoots him in the foot.

He's idling outside of Steve’s house one January night when his boyfriend isn’t the one to climb into Eddie’s passenger seat.

Preacher Harrington out of his fancy suit is a regular man who isn’t nearly as intimidating as he thinks himself to be. He stares Eddie down with hate filled eyes. It’s the same look he gets when the congregation stays silent during his tougher to swallow sermons. Not everyone is as closed minded as the preacher. Eddie tries to remind himself of that as he’s lectured about right and wrong. He’s forbidden to see Steve, though they both know that’s never going to happen.

Besides being adults able to make their own decisions, Eddie knows Steve’s love for him is real and upfront and unafraid, despite opinions of the people around him. Steve reassures Eddie that’s the reason his daddy hates him so much.

Instead of shoving them away from each other, the preacher’s demand brings Steve even closer to Eddie. They’re not even quiet or sneaky about the time they spend together, anymore. Steve openly stares at Eddie as he sings in front of the congregation. Eddie plays a little better after the look and the whole world knows exactly why. Even the man that seethes upon seeing their eyes meet and hold and never let go, not even once through the hellfire that’s spoken about boys exactly like them.

The weekend of Valentine’s Day rolls around, making a sap out of Eddie in a way that should be so very sickening. The real holiday is on Sunday, where the congregation is meeting for a small festival. They’ll have to play the hide in plain sight game they’ve become amazing at over the last few weeks. Saturday night, though, that’s only for them.

Eddie is clever in the way he talks Steve into getting exactly what he wants. He leaves out a collection of take out menus on the kitchen counter, spreading them wide so Steve can clearly see them. When Chinese is picked and delivered, Eddie pulls out two of Steve’s favorite bottles of wine.

“I don’t know what wine you’re meant to have with takeout, so I got both.” Eddie pushes the red and white bottles across the table for Steve to pick the one he wants. Long fingers take out the cork as Steve smiles a knowing grin in Eddie’s direction.

They gossip about their friend group and the adults who judge them ruthlessly in the congregation. Eddie almost spits out wine as Steve tells him a story about Mr. Wheeler, the most outspoken of their avid hate club. “Robin said she found him with his pants around his ankles, Mrs. Donahue on her knees before him.”

When their laughter dies down, Eddie is not strong enough to fend off the pull of Steve’s red lips not to kiss him soundly. The moments they’re sharing feed his soul, making the love he feels for the man snuggled up to him dig into Eddie heart even deeper. When Steve shoves his hands into Eddie’s curls, it’s easy to see that the man driving him crazy is equally as affected.

The angel made especially for him brings out the most devilish feelings inside. He seductively pulls Eddie into his lap and uses the amazing press of his lips to distract him. The movement of Steve’s fingers is secondary to their tongues tangling. Eddie is none the wiser until a soft hand wraps around both measures of excitement, squeezing their lengths tightly. It’s the punched out groan that alerts him to Steve’s naughty intentions.

Tangled up together later, with sweat cooling down their backs, Eddie is dumbfounded by the easy way Steve transforms back into a pristine light, shining like a beacon. He’s constantly reminded of the moment he first laid eyes upon the glorious soul that sets him on fire and guides his way through the darkness. Eddie loves the innocence of Steve’s body pressed against him as the caress of his skin sparks tangible want between them.

Their love is contradiction in all the best ways.

It's that feeling alone that makes it easy to brush past Preacher Harrington on his way to the church festival. He’s got Wayne’s famous icebox cake in his hand when an all too familiar voice stops him. “Good to see you, Mr. Munson.” Though, it’s plenty obvious that the preacher means anything but.

Eddie grins in his direction. “Afternoon, Preacher.”

The conversation seems over, Eddie even starts to walk when Steve’s dad, not their soft spoken preacher, says, “stay away from my son, boy.”

It’s with a laugh that Eddie throws a thumbs up over his shoulder. They both know he’s going to drop off the cake in his hands and find Steve. As that man starts to go on about love and it’s parameters and all the other bull shit that makes no sense, Eddie gets to look across the aisle and smile wide, knowing the love of his life is right across the way.

Steve’s going to be there to return the gesture and stare with eyes filled with love and affection and a wildness Eddie can’t wait to get his hands on. The preacher’s little boy is the type of man that finds them an empty room to shut the door of and express their love with lips and hands and tongues that happily explore familiar territory. Eddie’s angel is part devil that burns everything in his path to make it better. Eddie included.

Whether it’s luck or the man in the sky or simply being in the right place at the right time, Eddie gets a love that’s real and everlasting.

It’s worth the ridiculous trip, every Sunday morning, just to see that smile.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson #bobbie writes #he could be an angel

[incarnateirony]

I’m a complete outsider in whatever hell is going on here but I feel like you should let go of this person. Obsessing over them like this can’t be healthy

As a complete outsider, jump off a cliff. I've been getting harassed by her for three solid years, your tactic doesn't work. This isn't "obsession". This is her getting the attention she's been screaming for for three years while mind-raping me and using pictures of me for her sexual fetishes. Absolutely not. I stop when she dies.

If you don't like it, fuck off, I will literally drag this bitch into the dirt after the three years of harassment she's caused me in real life, online, multiple servers, fandoms and websites. Absolute rotten festering cunt. She was literally goddamn warned to stay off my dick, once every three months, for three fucking years, and she was still riding it and starting shit, so now I'm ending it. And the opinions of motherfucking people who care about me fucking up their fictional angel feed really do not fucking matter. She relies on weak ass opinions like this so she can keep on keeping on with her horse shit, and no, it's over. You will literally have to ban me from the entire internet to make me stop before she dies or surrenders. It's that simple. I am DONE.

I need you to comprehend I left this bitch three years ago, after she cheated, malignantly plotted to evict me to replace me with a new bf once she got her first check but let me pay the bills, and has since still absolutely stalked me everywhere anyway, invaded my servers, ripped off my face, my religious practices (badly), has been doing outright goddamn blasphemy, is grooming her friends into fetish roleplays using my fucking face, and she just invested SEVEN. GODDAMN. MONTHS. trying to invade YET ANOTHER FRIEND GROUP OF MINE to cause shit, and she got busted, and now her ass is on fire.

IT'S DONE. WE'RE DONE. THE MERCY IS GONE. SHE LETS US GO OR SHE DIES, IT'S THAT SIMPLE.

She wants me to be a demon, I'll be a demon. She even signed to me. Moron.

Truly this woman was so obsessed she sat in a goddamn furry porn server for half a year trying to sniff out my friends and investors elsewhere. Like she was literally wailing trying to find the contact for one of my main business investors. To start more shit with, of course. Sis, that man let me do 13 billion dollars in damages to WB by proxy. He doesn't care about your pissmoaning.

This isn't "obsession". This is me being tired of hers, and taking any means necessary to end the harassment I've been enduring on every possible front for literal years. Even if it means helping her remove herself from the planet and realizing what a service to humanity that is. I'm fuckin DONE. Like, literally, nothing of value would be lost. It'd actually be a net benefit because she'd stop scamming people with her octopus jibberish, plagiarized lines, and outright blasphemy of the god she claims but refuses to read the doctrine of and teaches contrary to.

She truly feels special cuz she can bullshit up some vague horse shit about someone's grandma to make them feel better then writes retroactive dreams, like the one that only prophecized to her that she was about to get her cheeks clapped, after she got clapped, but she swears she had a vision dream that morning. ok. the other seven months?

Like the whore is even posing right now writing her fanfiction like it's proof of something compared to my statistics. Yeah I too can shit out narrative horse shit, Shealyn. That doesn't make you a mystic. She's basically charging people for her obsession with me, her roleplay fetish, her schizophrenia and a big fat bucket of blasphemy she'll rot in the void for. And drag some nice little practicing christians with her.

Am I christian? No. But I respect the texts enough to know what she's doing is deeply fucking these people up. Like, they're neither following Hermes nor Yahweh's doctrine, they're just following whatever octopus jibberish horse shit she hallucinates. It's literally a cult. A cult she groomed into humping a copy of my face. Like a psychopath.

And no, that's not the hyperbolic internet use of cult. It is the literal definition of a cult, wherein no classic doctrine is used, but rather the singular teachings of someone that generally revises other practices, and grooms them out of actually reading anything outside of it and, in this case, into humping pictures of me.

You, too, would be flipping shit if your cheating ex wife was convincing people to basically mindrape you while lying about whatever god or doctrine you follow just to try to copy you. And that's BEFORE the trying to fuck with every friend group I have and my business. For three. Years. And that says nothing about her refusing to look in the face that she channeled motherfucking anime octopus jibberish trying to copy an inside joke. I use "channel" here loosely, obviously. Truly the most horrific skank I've had the displeasure of dealing with. Makes Vinnie and Kelios look like saints. And models. At least they're under the 300 lb threshold and are open about their delusions being about fictional horse shit. They don't even CHARGE for us to hear them spread their shit.

Trump deserves life more than this creature. At least I believe he's genuinely retarded. She only acts this dumb, but it's a conscious way she makes up for her own insecurities, and it's by lying her way through to try to look divine. She doesn't doesn't care what it does to everyone around her. So yeah. Trump is more human than this creature. And, somehow, in better shape.

So yeah, fuck off. She has till September for part one, until 2027 for part two, until 2033 for part three, and the void beyond that for the rest of her penalties, but for right now, you can sit and spin on part one.

But you know, I think that's fine by her. She's too coward to end it herself but already experienced soul death and knows it, hence her refusal to build any actual identity. She's just a sweaty meatsuit over there now going through the motions, I'm pretty sure she wants the void. Don't worry bertha, they just have to widen the gate a little bit

well that and he realized you actually do want to die, I think, which is why he specifically opted for the "troll you until you do it yourself" route starting yesterday. Sorry Shea, he refuses to let you warp forcing him to reap you into something you can try to spin as a romantic gesture in hell. Like, he's pretty sure you're just waiting to grope him then too. Get away from us, you lying schizo slut.

THE OCTOPUS WAS NEVER FUCKING DIVINE, SHEA. YOU DID NOT CHANNEL THE FUCKING OCTOPESE.

[lobeliabsackvillebaggins]

Binge-Watch, Breakdown, Blashpheme

When I was very little, my dad played Jesus in our church's passion play, and I started crying because I was scared they were actually going to crucify my dad. This was the start of my issues with mainstream Christianity's beliefs surrounding it. That has very little to do with this post, because in this post I'm discussing the Crucifixion as it relates to Good Omens canon, and not making any statements about real world religions. As per usual, contents include biblical discussions and blasphemy, so please take care of your mental health. Also, brief mentions of suicide. Spoilers for Good Omens season 2 below

"I forgive you" is, of course, an absolutely devastating response to a kiss. And I am here to make it worse for all of you. :)

In season 1, we find out that Aziraphale and Crowley are at the Crucifixion, which per Aziraphale is because He [Christ] told them to be kind to each other. In other words, Aziraphale's understanding of what he sees is that it's both part of the ineffable plan, and a natural outcome of people not liking to be told to be kind. At this point in canon, Aziraphale still mostly believes in the Great Plan.

Now, assuming that things in Good Omens canon play out similarly to the events described in the Bible, Jesus was betrayed to the Roman authorities with a kiss from Judas. Which is important for a few reasons. There is a question of how much free will Judas actually had, because it was foretold he would do this. Also, he did this because he was disillusioned with the fact that Christ was trying to peacefully reform the existing system, instead of violently overturning it. [There is almost always a nasty amount of anti-Semitism in any Christian discussion of Judas. I am trying really hard not to do this, but please let me know if I am failing] Judas, after he sees what has happened, kills himself. There is a bit of folklore that states he did this, not out of guilt, but because he was hoping he could see Jesus in the afterlife long enough to apologize.

Now let's fast forward 2000 years, give or take a few. Aziraphale has just been given what he sees as a chance to fix a deeply broken and toxic system. (He is wrong, because he's actually being set up, but that's a separate issue.) Here comes Crowley, exercising a free will that neither demons nor angels are supposed to have and saying "the system is too broken for reforms; we need opt out, if not outright overturn it". And he seals it with a kiss.

Aziraphale, who is still desperate to believe that Heaven is synonymous with good, cannot handle that. He just offered Crowley a chance to reform the system with him, and Crowley turned him down. Crowley tried, from Aziraphale's point of view, to distract/divert him from the path he is supposed to be on.

So, then, what else can he say? He is so deeply hurt at this betrayal, but doesn't want their last parting to end like this. "I forgive you".

TL;DR: Aziraphale thinks Heaven, and by extension himself are Good. He's wrong, and his frame of reference is causing him to misunderstand things. Crowley is in love with the man-shaped being who betrayed him.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens (tv) #biblical allusions in good omens #cw christianity #cw i don't think it's blasphemous but some probably will #ineffable husbands #Still in love with Judas baby #Ineffable husbands #cw sui mention #Spoilers

[potassium-pilot]

FFXIVWrite 2022 Day 3: Temper

“I don’t know about this, Ameliance. Surely, he would have no interest in a venture like this.” Dia, in the middle of a tea time conversation with Ameliance in Leveilleur Manor, expressed concerns over a proposal she had made.

“There might be more of an interest than you think. After all, Fourchenault hardly knows a thing about the woman who has the absolute adoration of his two children, and though he’d be loathe to admit it, the idea that they adore you so fascinates him. He can also hardly refuse a woman of your strength to help him in a dangerous mission in Garlemald.”

“He very well could if he wished. After all, the man has his pride. Even when the Final Days ravaged Garlemald and Alphinaud had come to help him, he told him to stay out of the Forum’s way.”

Ameliance chuckled to herself. “Stubborn as ever, my dear.” She shook her head and continued, “Yes, he may also be as stubborn as to refuse it, but I have my ways. I only ask that you try and help him understand you because he refuses to ask you himself.”

Dia thought for a moment. “I will only do it on the condition that he won’t try to reject me outright.”

“Then we have a deal. Give me but this night and you two will be on an expedition to Garlemald together in the morning.”

Dia had to bite her tongue to refrain from a sarcastic comment.

—————

“And with Fourchenault Leveilleur of all people! This man who forsook his own children in favor of a moot attempt to create a massive exodus of mankind to the gods know where, insulting them half the time they ran into each other and only helped when it became clear that Hydaelyn believed in us more than the stupid plan they came up with! He still greets me with this cold stare and all that harumphing and it’s infuriating! How am I supposed to survive this?!” Dia ranted in the parlor of Borel Manor, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace.

“You’ve managed to survive far worse. What is his purpose in a trip to Garlemald of all places?” Aymeric asked as he sat on the settee, far more entertained by Dia than the work he had in front of him.

“Supposedly, there’s some important wreckage left behind by what we found of the blasphemy Nerva became that’s of interest to the Forum, and I guess because the other 98 members simply can’t be bothered to send anyone else, he has to go collect it. I have no interest in this, but it’s hard to say no to Ameliance.”

“Clearly, as you seem intent to help with her exchange program in any way you can, never mind Master Fourchenault.”

“Urgh, could you break my legs or something? Give me an excuse?” Dia flopped onto the settee to sit next to him. Aymeric smiled gently and replied, “Now you know I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can. I’m surprisingly fragile.”

“You’re really not. At any rate, I believe this may be a good idea.”

“Hey, whose side are you on here?”

“Yours, which is why I would prefer that this expedition that I know is inevitable go smoothly so that perhaps Master Fourchenault may no longer be a thorn in your side.”

Dia hummed negatively.

“Aside from that, I had thought you two might have been able to put aside your differences after his efforts in that very mission to put Nerva to rest. Am I mistaken?” Aymeric asked.

Dia sighed. “It’s…a start, I suppose. I still think what he did to Alphinaud and Alisaie was unforgivable, his reasons be damned.”

“Perhaps so”, Aymeric agreed, “But at the same time, at least he loves them. There are plenty of fathers I can think of with no such attachments to their own children.”

It hit her in that moment just who Aymeric’s father used to be. With that in mind, she sunk her head into the back of the settee and sighed once more. “What if he gives me another judgemental glare?”

“Ignore it as you have all the others.”

“All right, fine.” She stood up and faced him. “I have an early morning to prepare for, so I’ll be off to bed. Good night, my love.” Just as she turned and took a few steps towards the staircase, she felt his strong arms surround her waist in an embrace, and his warm body press in behind her.

“Allow me to make it difficult for you to leave in the morning”, Aymeric offered in a low voice in Dia’s ear. She giggled and asked, “Physically? Emotionally?”

“I’m quite capable of both”, he answered with a flirtatious tone. With a laugh, she hopped up and wrapped her legs around him to make her hold her up as she kissed him and he carried her up the stairs towards the master bedchambers.

—————

Dia’s footsteps crunched in the snow of Garlemald that morning. Little seemed capable of helping the cold that gave Coerthas a run for its money. She stared out into the wilds, huddling for warmth when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Ah, there you are”, Fourchenault greeted tersely, “Shall we get going?” Dia nodded in response.

“Will you be requiring transportation? I would ask no one to walk such a distance on foot.”

She responded by pulling out a chocobo whistle and calling for her black chocobo, Chief. The creature flew in from distant skies and landed right in front of her, wearing fluffy barding to keep himself warm.

“Good. Give me but a moment and I shall follow you to the palace.”

Dia climbed onto her chocobo and waited for Fourchenault’s solution. In a moment, a strange automaton was wheeled in before her that appeared to be some kind of carriage with four rubber wheels thanks to the efforts of the Ilsabard Contingent.

“The locals call it a ‘car’”, Fourchenault explained, noticing the curious furrow of Dia’s eyebrows. “Go on ahead. I never remember how they operate this thing.”

Not only did the rusty old thing appear to be a death trap, but if it’s being piloted by someone as unfamiliar to it as him, Dia feared the worst. Thus did she come up with another solution.

“Fourchenault”, she called. He looked up. “I have another idea.” She pulled out yet another whistle and called forth a different creature. A flying whale, also dressed in warm clothing, descended from the heavens and appeared before her. “It holds two.”

He stared in complete bewilderment. “Wh-where did yo- how did yo- I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Shall we go?”

Still in shock and awe, he nodded and walked towards it. Climbing up the cetaceous transportation, he sat in the small picnic area made tidy. He still stared at her in bewilderment as the whale began liftoff and flew them over to the palace.

“It’s…how did you tame such a creature?” Fourchenault demanded.

“Bought it.“

“‘Bought it…’”, he repeated in disbelief. After that exchange, the remainder of the ride passed in silence. Upon landing, the two entered the remains of the palace, long made empty and set about searching for whatever it was the Forum needed. She didn’t need to know what it was- she just needed to ensure his safety for Ameliance. They arrived in the throne room letting Fourchenault search for what he needed, only to see him grow visibly more agitated.

“It should be here. I saw the it in the rubble. There should be a communicator”, he told himself.

Using that information, she was going to search through the rubble when Fourchenault told her, “Save your time, Dia. You’ve not any idea what I’m looking for.”

“What are you looking for?”

He would never admit it, but he hardly knew either. The device was theoretical more than anything. “There’s a device that may have contributed to tempering Garlean citizens. I had discarded it as useless rubbish at first, but the Faculty of Archaeology seem insistent that it can be fixed and studied further.”

“Hm.”

He resumed his search for another few minutes only for nothing to be found. “Where did it go?”

“No luck?”

“No. Whatever it may have been, it looks to be gone.”

“Then our mission is concluded. I’ll warm up the whale.” Dia turned around to exit the palace.

There was an odd fury that coursed through him. It mixed with his anger at his own failure and his perplexity surrounding Dia to form a bubbling hotpot of rage that he could barely contain.

“What do they see in you?”

This made Dia stop in her tracks, though she said nothing.

“I couldn’t even convince my children to stay home, but you…you were able to convince them to fly to the ends of the universe and sacrifice themselves to stop the Final Days. You convinced Alphinaud of an entirely new view of life that differed even from his own grandfather. The letters he wrote of you spoke of the love and passion that exuded from you, your humour, your grace and kindness. Was it fantastical whales that drew them in? Was it the allure of a swashbuckling adventurer from distant lands?

You baffle me. All I see is this aloof, distant and strange adventurer ready to give up a mission at the drop of a hat if it means getting as far away from someone in who she has no interest or perhaps even disdain. Yet you saved us all from the song of oblivion, even at the cost of your own life, you were Hydaelyn’s chosen champion, you won the hearts of every last person who appeared on Scholar’s Harbor that day when we sought solutions to the aetherburner problem of the Ragnarok. What are you?”

His incredible audacity infuriated her in that moment. She snarled without turning around and said, “How dare you! You think I asked the twins to give themselves up?! I was the one trying to stop them! I can’t convince them of a damn thing!” She swerved backwards and continued, “Just like you can’t! And you would give me grief for loving them like mine own?! They needed us! Their father chose to abandon them when the world was coming to an end!”

“I was trying to prevent them from becoming involved in business that I didn’t believe involved them!”

“You were never going to stop them! Didn’t you think Hydaelyn chose a champion for a reason?! Didn’t you think that maybe she might have wanted me to intervene?! And didn’t you think that maybe, just maybe, you hurt them terribly?! You only pushed them further with your stubbornness! It only made their fate more appealing!”

“It wouldn’t have to have been their fate if not for you!”

“Their fates were decided long before I had anything to do with it! The minute that they wanted to see Louisoix’s efforts through, they were involved! Do not blame me for what your children decided to do!”

“And is this what they can expect from you?! Bratty, crude, and unsophisticated behavior from one so far beneath their potential?!”

“What would you know about their potential?! You buried yourself so deep into your work, you barely bothered to know them!”

Just as she yelled that, the room began to shake. The two turned their heads towards the source, a massive automaton that burst through the rubble with a giant hammer, ready to destroy the source of the loud noises. Dia prepared her book and fairy, and Fourchenault his nouliths. “Go. I’ll dispatch the machina.”

“Like hell I’m running.” Dia prepared a spell aspected with fire to rain down on the automaton. It brought it to its knees, but the machine would not be too easily felled. Fourchenault’s nouliths began shooting it at all spots it could before he needed more ammo. It did nothing to deter the machine and it readied the hammer to land on Fourchenault. When it became clear that he had no time to run or cast a spell, he covered his eyes and awaited the end.

An end that didn’t come. It brought him to the floor certainly, but he was no worse for wear. It was then that he noticed he was covered head to toe with a green aetheric shield. “Wha…”

“Not bad for ‘unsophisticated’, eh?” Dia cracked and placed down Sacred Soil to protect them. “Maybe you need something a bit more electric, automaton.” In that moment, she brought down a storm of lightning to bear down on it. Effective, but it needed more convincing, which it made clear as it kicked her out of the way. She wasn’t unconscious, but certainly in great pain as it reopened a wound long healed from her fight with Zenos after taking down the Endsinger. In a moment, however, that pain was healed, and the wound resealed thanks to the healing magic of Sharlayan Sages.

He was distracted just long enough to let the hammer begin to drop down on his location. Dia cast Expedient and ran towards him and hd up the hammer with her book and her own strength. As she struggled against its weight, she yelled, “EOS, NOW!”

Just as she had been practicing, Eos brought down a massive bolt of lightning that landed perfectly in a weak spot on its shoulder. The machina short-circuited and in a moment, fell over on its side. Dia, relieved of the weight, bent over to catch her breath.

“Are you all right?” Fourchenault asked.

“Yes, thanks”, Dia panted, “Just need a moment.” A few more breaths later, she let out “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Healing me back there. You didn’t need to and it put you in a nasty spot, so it’s appreciated. Thank you.“

“Ah.” Fourchenault hesitated and said, “Thank you as well.”

“For?”

“Your shield was incredibly timely and rather effective, and I must admit, I didn’t quite expect thaumaturgy from a book wielder.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

“I’d prefer to clear them up.”

She stood back up and walked on as he asked her tonzes of questions. By the time they returned to Camp Broken Glass, he knew more of Nym and Nymian scholars than any of the books in the libraries of Sharlayan contained.

“It’s incredible. By augmenting already existing life forces using arithmantic means, you remove the risk of draining essential aether from the land. Would that the process had survived.”

“The Nymian Scholars and Sharlayan Sages share much more alike than I had realized. Although you rely on addersgall, the process of relying on shields and how the two heal through augmentation share much of the same practices.”

“Indeed. Although what’s truly incredible is what you had managed to recreate with a book. Usually, drawing on ambient aether like that is better done with a cane or rod, but you managed without.”

“That much isn’t Nymian. That’s a personal touch from me.”

“Truly? Hm”, Fourchenault remarked, “It bears many a similarity with the practices of the DuPointe family.”

“DuPointe?” Dia asked. “As in Oliver DuPointe, if that name rings a bell.”

“I know that name. The sole son of the DuPointe family. Are you familiar with him?”

“You could say that. He was my father.”

Fourchenault’s eyes widened in shock. “You’re a child of the DuPointe family?”

“Adopted, though I’m not sure what difference it makes. The way he raised me, I was as good as flesh and blood to him.”

“That Alphinaud and Alisaie never told us…”

“They probably don’t know. Family history had little concern with what we sought to do.”

“I wonder if she knows…”, Fourchenault wondered softly.

“Who?”

“His sister, Mallory.”

It was Dia’s turn to let her eyes grow wide in shock. “He had a sister?!”

“Aye, that he did. You never knew?”

“He never told me. He made it seem like he was the last left.”

Fourchenault hummed. “Well, I can’t say I’m privy to the details of it, but when Oliver left, I can’t imagine it was on good terms.”

She frowned. “Then my hopes of continuing his research…they rest in what might be a family feud?”

“It need not continue to be one. Though you’re not flesh and blood, you and Mallory are among the last to have the wisdom of the DuPointe family. That may earn you more trust than you think. I can help you set up a meeting if you wish.”

“Wait, really?”

“Of course. The DuPointes have taught Arithmetic in the Studium for some centuries now. It wouldn’t be hard to request one.”

“I…I’d be more grateful than you could know. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

With a faint smile, he said, “Consider it repayment for my behavior. I see now the error of my words, and hope this may help.”

With a much bigger smile, she replied, “It’s a good start, I must admit.”

He nodded and declared, “Now I must return to Sharlayan. Ameliance seems to find you quite amicable and I would not dare sour any relations between the two of you there. Please, visit her sometime.”

“You didn’t need to worry there. I’m always happy to visit her.”

With another nod, he prepared Teleport and left Camp Broken Glass behind. Aside from how well the mission ended, Dia couldn’t focus on that. Not when the prospect of continuing Oliver’s research intrigued her so.

I have a chance here, Daddy. I’ll see the fruits of your research realized yet!

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2022 #writing #aymeric de borel #f elezen wol #fourchenault leveilleur #ameliance leveilleur #aymeric/wol #fanfiction

[shatar-aethelwynn]

I watching Jenny Nicholson talking about church Easter plays (the pop culture ones). And is this consider blasphemy in some sections of church. Portraying the Easter story with pop culture stuff (having Batman crucified to the bat signal is one of them ) just wondering

So I have no idea who Jenny Nicholson is and this is only the second time I’ve heard that there was a batman crucified thing. I have no idea what the original context is. Was it a horribly failed attempt to be Relevant To The Youth by making some kind of Jesus=hero comparison? I can think of a few ways to spin Batman’s story into Christian theology and I’m only familiar with the surface level of the narrative. If you're dealing with pop culture "appealing to the youth" is usually the motivation, and it usually goes poorly from a theological perspective. But that doesn’t make it appropriate for an Easter play unless the purpose has been explained to the entire congregation beforehand. Then again, shock value and offense could be significant if you were trying to emphasize the “here’s a human who we think is cool, we know he’s human, he does awesome stuff, he’s being unfairly killed by the government for it. Oh by the way, he’s actually God.” Because it really was a shocking and offensive idea that the first disciples and converts had to wrestle with. And using a well-known very human hero would do nicely for that purpose. Without looking at the actual story (which I can’t seem to find) I wouldn’t be able to say for certain why it was done, but I’ve seen other examples of things being taken out of context by the pearl clutchers.

So I would be hesitant to label a specific instance as outright blasphemy since I don’t know the details. However, the concept would be considered blasphemous by many denominations (to varying degrees) if it was equating Bruce Wayne and Jesus as being the same. The reason being, that Christians believe Jesus is God and is unique in that regard, no other human can ever be the same as him. And for many, putting Batman into the role of “willingly dying to save us from our faults” is something unique to Jesus that no other human, no matter how awesome, can accomplish (for theological reasons).

However, there was an art performance thing a while back that was a naked man being “crucified” wearing a batman mask (“Saint Batman Crucified” by Valentin Popov, part of his “Ironic Icons”). And I’ve seen enough from conservative Christianity to know that there’s a non-zero chance that that is what’s actually at the root of the issue. Not a religious play, an art performance. I mean, the uproar over “Piss Christ” being blasphemous lasted for years and is still ongoing, so people still up in arms over the play and the photos years later would be expected. And as it goes down the grapevine, turning into “an Easter play for a church” wouldn’t surprise me. But neither would "let's put Batman into the kids' Easter play so it's more interesting for them."

[fanby-fckry]

To the anon who sent in the ask about fasting and religion, I cannot tell what the intended tone was and won’t be publishing it. I have absolutely zero experience or knowledge on religious fasting and feel I’m unqualified to speak on the matter.

My reblog was aimed at fasting in the form of fad diets and pseudo-science ‘health’ advice. It’s not a healthy or effective weight loss tactic, and the relationship between weight and health has been – often intentionally – misrepresented for decades now.

The way society treats fat bodies as a problem to be ‘fixed’ no matter the cost is just fucking awful, and the way so many people try to pass it off as ‘concern for their health :(’ makes me want to scream.

Linking HAES because they’ve got a nice, straight-to-the-point page that cites multiple studies and they’re generally a good place to start if you’re looking to educate yourself on weight bias and the actual affects of weight and weight loss on health.

As for the religion thing:

Anon – or anyone else for that matter – if you’re currently being pressured into any religious activities you don’t feel comfortable with, I wish you the best of luck in getting the fuck out of there, and I hope that one day you get to define your own relationship with your religion, spirituality, or lack thereof.

(It’s been almost 15 years since I got away from my relatives and their religious abuse, and I’m out here living my best Pagan life. 😌)

Now, while I do enjoy some good blasphemy every now and again, I’m not going to swing blindly at entire religious groups. I don’t even bash the one that hurt me – haven’t since I was a teenager.

The nature of religion is that it works for some and not for others. The nature of organized religion is that sometimes, certain sections will become warped or outright malicious, and that vulnerable people will get caught in the crossfire. That some people will use their faith to excuse their cruelty, or to gain power over others.

Idk how to fix that, I’m just some bitch in their 20’s writing fanfiction.

#fanby answers #anon #fatphobia cw #eating disorder cw #religion cw #abuse cw #not fandom #fanby’s ramblings

[edelweissacermacrophyllum]

Betrayal

1 Samuel 26:1-28:25, Psalm 68:21-27, John 19:1-27

“Down there - he said - are people who will follow any dragon, worship any god, ignore any inequity. All out of a kind of humdrum, everyday badness. Not the really high, creative loathsomeness of the great sinners, but a sort of mass-produced darkness of the soul. Sin, you might say, without a trace of originality. They accept evil not because they say yes, but because they don't say no.”

-Terry Pratchett, Guards! Guards!

I think what we see in the Pharisees when Jesus is on trial is horribly familiar. The thing is, they have something to protect. They need to protect their power and influence, but perhaps truly believe they are protecting this institution that keeps people following God. And because they do not draw lines that they will not cross, you find them saying, 'We have no king but Caesar." Something which is outright blasphemy. I admit that the gospel writers would have had a strong motivation to invent this line, but we have no evidence that that is the case, so whatever. In saying that, they betray where their true allegiance lies, with whatever power will allow them to advance their own cause. For some it might be money, influence, or respect. For others it might be legitimate religious zeal.

The thing is, most people don't even notice they're in a morally dubious situation until someone explains it to them, and even then we tend to rationalize why we don't have to treat this as a moral situation but rather a practical one. This is why it's so important to have a clearly articulated moral code, beyond simply, 'What would Jesus do?' I recommend the Sermon on the mount for a good starting place, because it sets both very clear practical advice: reconcile with your sister before worshiping God, and impossible ideals: love your enemies. Because the issue I find when I start constructing a moral framework for myself is that I can't construct one that I both feel good about and in which I rate well. Which is why I don't have a clearly articulated one and just have vague aspirations for the sermon on the mount.

I heard a story about Twitter's leader of content moderation pre and early Elon era, where he recounts writing out a list of lines he wouldn't cross, and discussed this with many of his staff. They were pretty specific, including breaking the law and lying publicly, but he ended up leaving for other reasons, specifically because he thought that Musk's decision surrounding the blue check marks was foolish. I don't think that Roth's moral code failed him here. I think it worked as it should, when an unforseeable circumstance showed up, Roth had already done the hard work of imagining being asked to do terrible things and decided what he would do. He left a job he loved because he was asked to do something he didn't want on his conscience or reputation.

When I teach kids to study nature, the first rule I tell them is to look closely at things, to notice things. Things are cooler the closer you look, more interesting, more nuanced. And this extends to all aspects of life. It is not simply a way of making life more joyful, it is a vital safeguard against becoming evil.

Almost all aspects of life are under this. I recently found a few jokes I love that get dumber the more you think about them. They take the form of fun facts. Here's one: Did you know that if you laid all the bones in a snake end to end, they would be as long as the snake?

#Bible in a year #Moral codes #Twitter #Nature #Pharisees #Jesus #evil #Pratchett #gnu terry pratchett

[thorne1435]

I am curious though - and I believe we've talked about this a little before but I don't remember exactly what you said - you referred to both Christianity and Judaism and then talked about Hell for most of the rest of the post, even though the Jewish faith has no concept of Hell, especially not in the way Christians do. I'm curious what parallels you do draw between the two, or else what separate issues you take with Judaism, because at least as someone learning about Reform specifically, I really haven't encountered anything I find outright objectionable yet.

The books of the Old Testament are shared with (likely more authentically translated) Jewish text, namely the Tanakh, which contains every book of the Old Testament. There are also books that Jewish practices teach that Christian practices don't, and I imagine there's some variability there as well, because there are some Christian practices that teach books that other Christians don't. Somewhat related to that, there are some sects of Christianity that don't believe in hell for anyone but Satan and the Fallen. And I remember from church that, at least as far back as Rome, there were differing beliefs among Jews regarding the afterlife, with one believing in some kind of supernatural karma system on earth and another believing in an actual afterlife in the sense we're more familiar with. And I don't doubt that that's a little wrong because it came from a Christian albeit a fairly scholarly one, but also, it does illustrate that there's some variety there, at the least. Also, did I miss what "Gehenna" was? Isn't that literally hell?

That notwithstanding, the books of Genesis, Leviticus, and everything to do with the land of Canaan reflects very poorly upon God, and also sort of the people who would be willing to along with it all. To be fair, the last time the Israelites committed a genocide at the behest of a religious figure was...y'know, a while back (if that even actually happened which is kinda debatable...). But I still feel like trying to save any religion that reveres the little diva that is God is just a bad idea. An authority figure like that should not be respected. They should be disposed of.

He once afflicted Israel because David (that guy He really liked you may recall), took a census when God didn't tell him to. To be clear, He didn't say "Don't take a census yet." He said nothing. And David took a census and god punished the entire people for it. And remember all those times when the man of a family fucked up so God decided it would be okay to just kill the entire family including the women and children who had nothing to do with the patriarch's decision?? That's kind of fucked up also, and it happened more than once.

You can't tell me that a religion that teaches those books isn't one that opens itself up to patriarchy and punitive justice, both of which being things we know for a fact to be bad.

I understand, from things you've shown me directly and indirectly, that Judaism in the modern day is very debate-centered and places an emphasis on unity in spite of disagreement. A post I saw on here said they were "The People Who Wrestle With God" and pointed to the stories of Sodom and Gomorrah, and Jacob literally "Wrestling with God." And that's cool, that's heartwarming even. I will grant Judaism that it is better than Christianity. And it is fair to say that a religious doctrine that says their Omnipotent Entity can be reasoned with is more respectable than a religious doctrine that says their Omnipotent Entity is unquestionable.

I still don't like it, though. It's still responsible for the parts of Christianity that I hate, since Christianity is just shittier Judaism with added blasphemy for spice. It still encourages authoritarian and reactionary thinking, even acknowledging that Jews are permitted to question and debate their god's actions.

Proposing an Omnipotent Entity, perfect or otherwise, requires putting your trust in an almighty being not to smite you for the fun of it. And to some extent or another that does require deference and respect be given to Him because he might, say...oh, I don't know, open the earth to swallow your entire bloodline? Flood the earth again? Or, well, He said He wouldn't do that, so He'd actually just get creative with how to destroy everything if He had a temper tantrum.

But I think you can understand why a belief that encourages you to consider whether or not He will have a temper tantrum is one that I'm not fond of.

[dayabulan]

Dream 20220601

A closed country North of China is transitioning. They're welcoming outsiders and I volunteered to go, hoping to meet and get reunited with an old friend I haven't seen in years. I went in with this goal and intended to reach it by separating myself from the tourists' crowd.

The entire country was beautiful. Greens where they should be, and old structures very well maintained. It was paradise on Earth, but where are the people at? For hours I've walked the bricked roads, but encountered no one until I came to a grand church. There, waiting for me was my very old friend himself. He was singing praises for the country, describing it's beauty, the very beauty I saw on my way to him, but I felt like he was pushing me away.

This old friend and I shared a unique telepathic ability. Even when we were just little kids, we always understand each other even without outright saying proper words.

Read. That's what we did. We could read each other like an open book and I was confused as to how his words and his subtle gestures could be so polarizing. He tells me to join him, while our secret language is desperately pushing me away before the sun goes down.

Using our secret language, we talked:

"Why are you pushing me away?"

"You never should have come! Go now, run, chase the sun, don't let the darkness reach you here!"

"You're scaring me!"

"Too late... the sun is about to go to sleep! Hide."

"What? Why?!"

"You know this, creatures of darkness live in the dark! Now, hide!"

He stopped, faced a wall and smiled from ear to ear... literally. His mouth widened, so wide that I finally realized the corners of his lips were sliced up to the base of his earlobes. His head tilted to the side and his eyes turned yellow.

"You never should have come!"

He spoke directly to me.

I've seen those eyes before and I instantly knew I was only dreaming. He called my name, my real name, not the nick my friend used to call me. I know I should feel fear, but I felt like the 'hide' my friend wanted me doing is directed towards my fears.

"You know this, creatures of darkness live in the dark... now, hide!"

"You think you can win over me, dear? I know you more than anyone else in this world, more than the God you worship."

"These are consecrated grounds, how are you here?"

"There are no consecrated grounds in the mind of the faithless. You know that!"

"I want to wake up!"

"What, aren't you going to check what's underneath this basilica?!"

He vanished, and I found myself at the last stair landing to the basement of the church. I hear them, people, chanting as one. I don't know the language they used. I've never heard of it. But, I fully understood what they chanting about...

BLASPHEMY! My head called out the chant as the crowd stomped as one in anger.

"Shhh... Everyone can hear your thoughts, dear!"

He was inside my head and it freaked me out. I heard him laugh an old familiar laugh. I wanted to wake up, but I couldn't break the nightmare. When I finally did, I could not get myself to move.

Sleep paralysis.

I couldn't calm down. His last words is stuck in my head:

"You can't hide, YOU NEVER COULD! Remember?!"

My heart pounded. It was as if an invisible hand squeezed my heart and pulled it out. Then, I woke up, heart pounding, the sunshine brightening my room was very slowly calming me down. I tried to remember my thoughts before sleeping. I always do so to make sense of my dreams. I wish I could. Nightmares always get me disoriented, especially the ones with that yellow-eyed man! Whenever he comes, he tells me the same old narrative that I cannot run, I cannot hide, I cannot escape... but what am I running from, hiding from or escaping from?

I always remember the dreams, but I cannot pin them to a common ground. I'd say it's because I start to give in to some internal struggle, once again, letting myself get lost in a trance of self-doubt, self-deprecation, and inaction towards reaching my goals. The demons are calling me, and the yellow-eyed man is laughing at me because I am back in this situation once again.

Fuck you! I will never let you have me again! I will enjoy my life, live it and I'll be happy! This is the last time, DEAR! We won't see each other again!

#demonic dream

[scorpionyx9621]

When someone asks me if there ever is going to be a good Red Hood comic where he's just as capable and deadly as everyone dreams he can be.

I get that everyone yearns for a capable and deadly Red Hood. Everyone fawns over the Jason Todd who brought Gotham's crime scene to its knees in the matter of like a week in Under the Red Hood. I'm not here to say wanting that kind of comic is wrong because it isn't, I'm just saying Jason Todd has changed as a character. He's not the same character he was when he was brought back to life back in 2005.

If I wanted to stan a criminal mastermind who rules Gotham's underworld and strikes fear in the heart of criminals I'd just be a Joker kinnie. I'm being 100% serious. Why should I or anyone even bother with Jason Todd who by the definition of what everyone likes about him so much when I can get all of the same things from The Joker minus the daddy issues.

What? Don't believe me? Let's compare shall we?

Both Jason Todd and Joker are murderers

Both use guns

Both use other various weapons to kill people

Both have pretty sizable criminal followings

Both are obsessed with Batman

Both have come back from the dead

Both came from bad home lives (supposedly with Joker we aren't certain because they re-write his canon more than they do Jason's)

Both have their canons re-written by DC just about every new comic they're in.

Both have beared the title Red Hood

Both have a unique hair coloration/pattern

Both get enjoyment out of hurting/torturing people.

Both have used crowbars as weapons

Both have tried on numerous occasions to hurt not only Batman but a multitude of Robins.

Both have engaged in elaborate plots to try to get Batman to notice/fight them. Multiple times.

Both are considered capable killers who are very smart.

I can keep going. I really can. It's not hard to compare these two. Literally the only things separating Jason Todd from The Joker at this point are the fact that Jason is a conventionally attractive 6-foot tall, muscular white man and that Jason has in recent comics turned around and accepted his spot as a member of the Bat Family*.

It really goes to show that, maybe, just maybe, writers like Judd Winnick intentionally made Jason Todd take on the mantle of The Red Hood, Joker's original persona as a villain, and gave him a literal grocery list of similarities as a means to emphasize his villain-like behavior to serve as an in-between for Batman and The Joker. And this isn't even an original idea. Many times comics have made the comparison between Jason and The Joker. Three Jokers, DC Comics Truth and Justice, Death of The Family, just to name a few.

So again, you ask, since you went through all the lengths to compare the two, why don't you just go off in your corner and be a Joker kinnie? Well my friend, it's simple. I don't like the Joker. He's so oversaturated in the DC comics market and DC seems to have finally figured at least that part out. Jason Todd is an anti-hero who teeters between Knight in Sour Armor and Jerkass Woobie at best and falls into shades of Moral Sociopathy at worst (particularly under Winnick's penmanship) But Jason Todd is not The Joker. It's outright blasphemy to compare the two in most circles, but Jason Todd is a very compelling, albeit underdeveloped character.

It doesn't help that we have basically a decade of development for Jason Todd under Sc*tt L*bd*ll that we as a fandom have collectively decided to disregard. And rightfully so. Mostly because RHATO and RH:O was a discombobulated mess of a story with a lot of very cool and neat ideas that were in no way practical or truly even relevant to Jason Todd. L*bd*ll tried to make Jason into this self-insert of a 'bad boy seeking redemption' which really had no narrative follow-through because one issue you'll have Bruce and Jason chilling on top of a hill stop Gotham eating cheeseburgers discussing how Bruce trusts Jason with Bizarro more than he does with Lex Luthor. And then not 10 issues later Bruce is literally beating Jason to within an inch of his life. Jason even regarded how he thought Bruce didn't even hit the Joker that hard.

All of this is to say that we really don't have a truly good narrative for Jason that isn't him literally cosplaying as The Joker and causing chaos in Gotham in Under the Red Hood, a freshly out of the dip Jason Todd thrown into the world after being dead for who knows how long training to become the world's deadliest assassin all whilst killing countless people and sleeping with Talia,

We've been gyped of a good Red Hood narrative for going on two decades now. And truth be told I don't know if we're ever going to get a good story for Jason Todd on par with Dick Grayson and Nightwing. They've fumbled the ball with his initial characterization in his first redemption under L*bd*ll that I don't know if we'll ever get a truly satisfying narrative for Red Hood as an anti-hero. For now he's literally just a murderer who Bruce let's come with him on investigations and stuff who badmouths him at best to a 'regretable' punching bag at worse.

When you compare Jason to characters like say Frank Castle as The Punisher, whom despite being co-oped by the American alt-right, is a much more compelling character with a better narrative because Frank Castle knows what he is, and he isn't trying to be a hero like Jason.

With say Harley Quinn, we've had about a decades-worth of comics showing us Harley realizing that Joker has been abusing her. We've gotten to watch Harley try and fail many times at trying to turn her life around and do the right thing. To now after years of trying to and succeeding in doing the right thing, Harley Quinn is now a member of the Bat Family (in like some weird-off in the corner way)

This long-winded post can be finalized by saying I don't get why everyone is so obsessed with wanting Jason Todd who is 'deadly and competent'. If I wanted foil to Batman who is all deadly and a criminal mastermind I'd just follow The Joker. To me saying you only liked Jason from Under the Red Hood and think every subsequent title he's appeared in is OOC is like saying you like a cover-band of Journey better than Journey because you don't like Journey.

Jason Todd is a very compelling, interesting, and likeable character despite DC Comics bombing literally every title he's been in since 2010. He's a great character who is as fascinating as he is lovable. He needs a serious re-branding because while he is a great and complex character, DC needs to show us and not tell us how he's growing. However at the end of the day no one is going to be entirely happy with how he's portrayed and that's fine. You aren't wrong for wanting the Jason Todd of y'old. That's just not my cuppa tea. I just want a good, 4-part story by Wayne Family Adventures of Bruce and Jason finally beginning to work through their 800lbs of USDA prime-grade beef between the two of them in that fun cartoonish aesthetic because man, Bruce and Jason in WFA are both so pretty.. also WFA is the only comic that seemingly 70-80% of the fandom is at least okay with because it's kitschy and tumblr-baity but at least Bruce isn't hitting his freaking kids.

#jason todd #red hood #batman #bruce wayne #wayne family adventures #under the red hood #red hood and the outlaws #red hood outlaw #the joker #red hood lost days #rant #I just want a good Jason story but i know it'll never happen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[darqx]

I have a lore related question whenever you're available, have battle priests always been accepted or understood? The most common religion is paganism so I think that witchhood and mysticism would be less stigmatized, but has there been conflicts between the priests and common people due to their rituals and power? Do they have conflicted opinions of them, and has their been communities that even outright rejected the priests for their use of magic, or has the threat of demons made them more treasured or idolized? Again whenever you're available, absolutely no rush! ^^

Oh the BPs have historically been well regarded in their communities, because they are seen as the main line of defence against any demons that act badly. Being able to wield the power to do so is also helpfully considered "by the will of God(s)" in most religions and therefore good magic as opposed to creepy DEMONIC magic. That being said there have been some conflicts and that's usually if a BP has gungho'd into a "neutral ground" place and is being an ass for no good reason.

One way to look at it is most humans consider them like guardian angels and most demons on Earth consider them like bogeymen :V

🤔 Hmm it’s mainly a found family road trip with some drama and horror elements. And probably blasphemy. So a mix of both dark and light...i think most of it will be like M to MA15? (somewhere around PG13 for those of you on the other side of the world lol)

Oh I do remember answering something like this at one point! Funnily enough, only Izm has an actual date. Everyone else in the main group just has [a general range of] months lol.

Same age:

Wei Ren: sometime in January (he’s the oldest in the group lol)

Izm: April 2

.D: like his name and shrouded in mysterious mysteries, but only because he just repeatedly neglects to tell anyone. His bday is like a month or several after Izm’s though. Yes, he is the youngest of the same agers XD

A year younger:

Zeke: Sometime in August or September

Several years younger:

Marcus: Hmm February i think

Oh and someone asked so the oldest:

Rire: Somewhere in late October to mid September. Kinda have 2 dates in mind but not settled on either yet.

If you really want to lol

Tbh i really don’t remember! I’m created many characs as a kid so one of those would’ve technically been “the first” and never made onto the internet. 🤔 I suppose the first reoccurring characters were probably .D and Izm (yeh they came in a pair even then haha), who started off as IZ fancharacs then become og characs. Here’s an old side by side from like 2009:

And of course their current BP iterations (which is technically an AU of the HH version lol):

#battle priest #hh au #drowziidreamer #tone description supplied by my friend as i was trying to figure out how to word it lol #answer #reply #hedonehigh #sz #long post ish