#much and thought of us no better for being white and christian

[barefoot-joker]

Destined for Heaven, Stolen by the Devil~ Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys and welcome to another Lucifer story. I'm sorry I write for him a lot. I just find to him be a very relatable character and I love him so much! Anyway, this fic deals with heavy Christianity themes, so I did my best to research. If something is wrong, please tell me and I'll do my best to fix it. I was very inspired by the song 'The Plagues' from "The Prince of Egypt". As always, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

Words: 2899

Warnings: Heavy Christianity Themes/Beliefs, Swearing, Christianity Mocking, Slight Possessive Tendencies, Reader's Aunt likes crystals, Reader Dies, Kidnapping?

I sighed as my mother pulled a light blue cardigan over my shoulders. She dusted off my dress and fixed my hair so that I looked presentable. Today was Sunday so that meant we had to go to church. I wasn’t too fond of going and I would have rather been playing in the backyard as a twelve year old does. However, my mom made it her duty to take me and make me a good Christian girl. “Why do we have to go, mom? It’s soooo boring!”

I stuck out my tongue at her. She gently pushed it back in. “You know I want our family to have a good relationship with the Lord. It’s our Christian duty. Besides, going to church is in your blood. After all-”

“Yeah, yeah. God told you that I was destined to be a wife for Adam. How can you believe that? It came to you in a dream.”

“Y/n M/n L/n! You do not question God’s ways! You know better! Now come on, we don’t want to be late.”

Dragging me by the hand, she ushered me into the family Cadillac and sped off. I sighed heavily. There were so many things I’d rather be doing than go to church. I could be with my friends, heck I could be at my cool Aunt’s house. “Hey, mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“When are we going to visit Aunt Hailey? When she called you said we’d be seeing her soon.”

“I only said that to get her off my back. You know how I feel about her.”

I grunted and crossed my arms. Aunt Hailey was seen as the black sheep in the family all because she was wealthy. A lot of our relatives (my mother included) thought she sold her soul to the Devil in order to be immensely rich and refused to interact with her. I, however, thought she was so cool. When she used to come over she’d regale to me hundreds of stories about her travels around the world. She even showed me her cool crystal collection when we went over to her house a few times. “Now don’t be like that. It’s not ladylike.”

I grunted again and slid down in the tan leather seat. A few minutes later the car was parked in the church parking lot and I was being dragged inside. Sometimes I wish I had siblings so I wasn’t the only one to feel mom’s wrath. She seated us near the front and handed me the heavy white Bible from the pew. I robotically turned to the page with the Lord’s prayer and stood when Pastor Bob entered. We began reciting the Lord’s prayer and sang a hymn before we sat. I didn’t pay much attention as our Priest told us his sermon for the day but I didn’t dare to look around the room. I had to look the part after all. Fidgety, I played with my ring finger. Glancing down, I took in the birthmark that oddly looked like an apple. I remember it showing up after I stayed at Aunt Hailey’s house one day. I never told my mother about it though. I was often reminded of the tale of Eve and the apple and I don’t know what she would do if ever saw the fruit insignia. After the sermon and another hymn, it was time for communion. We all stood in line and when it was my turn I took the small Ritz cracker and ate it. I coughed lightly and then took a sip from the golden chalice. My mom and I returned to our seats and when everyone was done, we recited the Lord’s prayer one final time. Thank goodness it was over. 

As we walked out, I was forced to shake hands with our elderly Pastor. “How is my favorite little disciple doing today?”

I cringed at that. Ever since my mother told the church of her insane dream I was treated like some goddess. “Good.”

“That’s great to hear. I look forward to our weekly blessing.”

“Of course, Pastor Bob,” my mom butted in, “we wouldn’t miss it.”

He smiled and bid us both ado. We walked back to the car and drove home. As we passed by houses in our neighborhood, I looked longingly at the kids playing. Besides church, Sunday was dedicated to my education of becoming a housewife so when I did die and go to Heaven I was prepared. Parking the car, we went inside. I slipped off my Mary Janes and put them by the door. The rest of the day was spent cleaning, doing embroidery work and cooking. Just as I was getting ready for bed, the phone rang. I went into the kitchen and picked up the landline. “Hello?”

“Is my dear Y/n there?”

“This is her.”

“It’s your Aunt Hailey.”

“Auntie! Hi! How are you?”

She chuckled. “I am good, my darling. And you? Surviving another day in that stuffy house?”

I giggled at her commentary. “I’ve been okay. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering when you can come over. I was talking with a friend the other day and he would like to meet you properly. I believe he saw you at my house when you were five.”

“I’d love to come over! Let me ask mom real quick.”

I walked into the living room and pressed the phone to my chest. “Hey, mom. Aunt Hailey’s on the phone. She wants to know when I can come over.”

She looked up from her book and glared at the phone. “You know my answer.”

“Come on, mom! It’ll just be for a day!”

“I don’t know.”

“Please! I promise when I get back I’ll focus on my wifely duties! Please!”

I gave her puppy dog eyes and slightly whimpered. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alright. You can go tomorrow, but I expect you to stay true to your promise. You know how God would feel if you went back on your word.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I lifted the phone up to my ear and quickly ran into the kitchen. “She said I can come tomorrow.”

“Wonderful! I’ll see you then, my dear.”

“Bye, Auntie!”

“Goodbye for now, darling.”

I ended the call and put the phone back on the receiver. I returned to the living room where mom and I did our nightly prayer. When we finished, she gave my forehead a kiss and sent me to bed. 

The next morning I dressed in a plaid dress shirt, brown capri pants and black oxfords. I bounced in the passenger seat giddily as my mother parked the car in my Aunt’s gravel driveway. “Now remember to behave. I don’t need any calls about your disobedience.”

“I’ll be good, I will.”

“That’s my girl. And you have your cross necklace?”

“Yes, mom. Can I go now?”

She kissed my forehead and I got out of the car. “Be safe! Call me if something happens and I’ll be back around dinner to pick you up!”

“Okay mom, bye!”

I waved and she drove off. I turned towards my relative’s mansion and walked up the stone steps. I grabbed the handle from the golden lion’s head and gave three loud knocks on the large oak door. The door opened to reveal Timothy, my Hailey’s middle aged butler. “Ah Miss Y/n, we were expecting you. Please come in.”

He stood to the side and allowed me inside. Closing the door, he led me across the marble floor to one of the drawing rooms near the back. I could hear muffled voices talking as we entered, Timothy clearing his throat. “Your niece is here, madam.”

“Thank you, Timothy. That will be all.”

He bowed and exited the room. My Auntie smiled and gestured for me to come over. I ran to her and gave her a big hug. Her navy silk and lace dress clung to me. “It’s so good to see you, darling! I’ve missed you so!”

“I’ve missed you too!”

I pulled away and she motioned to the gold and floral print armchair next to her. I sat and looked at her guest on the chaise lounge. He seemed quite the esteemed gentleman. He had slicked back blonde hair, pale skin and red eyes. I found them quite odd but didn’t judge. Mother said it was bad to judge based upon appearances. He wore a white suit with a red dress shirt, a black tie with black flower detailing, black leather gloves and shiny black dress shoes. He was on the shorter side as well. “Y/n, I’d like you to meet my friend Luci. He’s the one to thank for my wealth.”

The man stood and bowed to me. He took my hand and kissed my apple birthmark. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my little apple. Your Aunt has told me so much about you.”

“It’s good to meet you too, sir.”

“So polite. Your mother is raising you right.”

“Except for the amount of gospel she puts in my poor baby’s head. I swear all because of her fucking dream, she’s gone total Bible thumper.”

Luci titled his head to the side. “Oh you’ll have to tell me over tea. Speaking of which, I think Timothy has finished setting up the garden for us.”

“Splendid!”

We all stood and the blonde offered me his arm. I gladly took it and we walked outside to Hailey’s marble floored porch. A metal table sat in the middle overlooking her large flower garden, a lacy white tablecloth set on top. Luci pulled out my chair and after I sat, pushed it in. He sat next to me and began pouring tea for all of us. Today Timothy had picked out the clear glass kettle so we could see the yellow liquid inside and the pastel teacups. I thanked Auntie’s friend when he poured into my cup and marveled at the small pink flower floating. “I see we’re having chrysanthemum tea. You know it’s your Auntie’s favorite.”

I giggled and picked up my cup. Blowing a little, I took a sip and smiled at the sweet taste. “So you were talking about Y/n’s mother?”

“Ah yes. She’s always been a Christian woman, believing in the power above. Then one night she had a dream, a vision she calls it, that Y/n is to be the third wife of the first man Adam. Ever since then she’s been obsessively devoted and is dragging my poor niece with her.”

“I see.”

Luci seemed to become stiff at the mention of Heaven and God. Perhaps it was a touchy subject?

“So God came to her and said this, hm?”

“Sure as shit supposedly.”

The three of us sipped our tea in silence. “So has school been going, my dear?”

“Good, Auntie. We learned how to do cursive in English the other day so now I can write my name all fancy!”

“That’s great, darling. Anything else?”

“I’ve been feeling kind of left out lately.”

Both adults turned to me in curiosity. “How so?”

“Well none of the other kids my age are really learning wifely duties, at least not as much as me. When I want to go outside and play mom forces me to do my skills.”

“Wifely duties? Pray do tell,” Luci cocked an eyebrow.

“I learned how to clean the house from top to bottom, cook all three meals, sew, embroider, and do laundry. Basically anything my mom deems necessary to please this angelic husband of mine.”

“I can assure you it will come in handy. Especially with how much of pigish brute he is.”

“How do you know?”

“I just got that impression when I’ve read his passages in the Bible, sweetie.”

“Oh.”

“If you had a real man I can be sure you wouldn’t need those skills, darling,” Auntie piped up, sipping her tea.

“A real man? Like who?”

“Like Luci for example!”

I turned to the blonde and he smiled. His eyes glinted with what looked like adoration. He gently grabbed my hand and held it, his hands quite warm through his gloves. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of my hand. “It’s true. If you were my wife you wouldn’t want for nothing. Every day would be spent in marital bliss.”

“Sounds gross!”

He chuckled and kissed my hand again. “When you’re older you’ll come to love it.”

‘If you say so.”

“I know so.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent listening to Luci’s tales from his travels while drinking our tea. They were quite intriguing and full of adventure. The people he met, the places he went were all so fascinating. It soon became dinner time and true to her word my mom sat in the driveway. Luci walked me to the door and gave a little bow. “It was a pleasure to chat with you, Y/n. I have a feeling we will see each other more in the future.”

“I hope so. You’re so cool, Luci!”

He smirked and patted my head. “Farewell, little lady.”

“Goodbye, Luci!”

I gave him a quick hug before running to the car.

Sure enough as I grew up I ran into the short blonde more often than not. From trips to the grocery store to when I was allowed at Aunt Hailey’s house, we would bump into each other. We’d always exchange a few words and always those red eyes sparkled bright around me. 

That was eleven years ago. Now I lay in a hospital bed, feeling like I was on the brink of death. A few years after meeting Luci I had gotten terribly ill. I was feverish, pale and felt nauseous. My mother was worried and took me to the clinic. I was just diagnosed with the flu. I took my medicine and stayed in bed as best as possible but the final straw was when I fainted in the backyard while gardening. Since then, I had been in and out of hospital with different doctors viewing me like prize cattle. I was poked, prodded and dug at only to be told no one had a clue as to why I was sick. It was like it had just fallen upon me. My mother became even more obsessive in her Christian ways. I was blessed every weekend and prayed upon every day to try and heal my mysterious illness. I was forced to drink holy water at every opportunity and had to wear my cross necklace with two rosaries. 

Currently, I was coughing so hard I felt like I dislocated my lungs. My mother sat next to me holding my hand, a rosary wrapping around us. As I continued to cough she pushed some hair out of my face. “You’re going to be alright, honey. Just stay strong.”

After my coughing fit, I laid back and tried to catch my breath. “I feel like I’m dying.”

Her hand tightened around mine and I could feel her body shake with sobs. “Maybe this is God’s way of letting us know Adam needs you. As much as I’d hate to see my baby go, you’d finally fulfill your purpose.”

“Mom, please. Not now.”

“I’m sorry.”

A knock at the door made us both look over. There in the entryway stood Luci, his white hat with the dark red band hanging tightly in his hands. “Come in.”

He stepped forward and gave a small smile. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“Y/n! Language!”

“Sorry.”

He chuckled and came to my side, putting a hand on my shoulder. “May I have a moment alone, please?”

My mom looked at me and I gave a curt nod. She sighed and stood. “I’ll go get something to eat. I’ll be back later, honey.”

She gave my forehead a kiss and walked out, shutting the door behind her. Luci took her place in the chair next to my bed. “What can I do for you, handsome?”

“I wanted to come see you. Hailey told me how you were faring and I knew I needed to come immediately.”

“I appreciate that. Especially since I feel like this may be the last time you see me.”

“Nonsense. We will always find each other, even in death.”

He brought his hand up and caressed my cheek. I smiled and then began coughing. I turned away and hacked into my arm, only turning back when I was done. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

His hand wrapped around mine and squoze tightly. “You know, I could end your suffering right now.”

“Yeah right.”

“I’m not lying to you, my dear. One small kiss and you’d go peacefully.”

“Luci-”

“And then we can be together forever. Adam, not even Heaven will keep you from me.”

“What are you talking about?” “Just kiss me.”

What could go wrong? I was already suffering so much.

“...Alright.”

He leaned forward and connected our lips. He tasted sweet like caramel apples and I just melted. My soul felt like it was being sucked out of my body and when he pulled away I couldn’t breathe. “You’re mine, little apple. Forever and always.”

He caressed my hand and my eyes closed.

The beeping of the heart monitor slowed and then faded to silence all together.

#yandere #xreader #yandere x reader #x reader #yanderexreader #villain x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #yandere lucifer morningstar #yandere lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #slight adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #yandere lucifer morningstar x reader #yandere lucifer magne x reader

[dailyadventureprompts]

Heavy Topics: A Child's Vision of Evil

One of the first big “aha!” moments in my journey to retrofit d&d’s laughably bad lore was the realization that the way the game treated evil didn’t make much sense.  As a dungeonmaster I was asked to create dramatic stakes for my players but the out-of-the-box antagonists supplied to me were as laughably one note as the pollution loving villains in Captain Planet. Who would ever worship the demon god of killing everything that lives? Of torturing you for all eternity? Of being unpleasantly covered in slime? 

None of it really made sense until I started to understand the world and recent history through a political lens, at which point several things became clear: 

Despite how large a bogyman it played in the satan scare of the late 80s, the people who laid the foundations for the lore of d&d came from a background of conservative american christianity, and baked a lot of that ethos into the game. 

The conservative christian imagination can only see things in black and white. People who disagree with them can’t just have a different opinion, even if that opinion is objectively good, they need to be wilfully evil . In fact they must be trying as hard to be evil as the christian is trying to be good, because they’re a backwards person, a monster, a demon. 

This idea of the “Backwards Person” is the exact process that gave rise to the bloodlibel, to the witchpanics, to the redscare, and yes, the 80s fear that satanists lurk around every corner sacrificing babies and putting poison in candy because they love evil that much.  It’s the same thought that’s given rise to Q-anon and the groomer panic. “People who disagree with just can’t just have a different opinion, they must be demons.”

D&D’s classic enemies are similarly all “backwards people”, hardwired to do evil so that players always have an excuse to kill them.  While on the surface it seems harmless or even childish it leads to the default d&d world being one where peace is impossible and genocidal violence is the only correct answer.  

We can do better in our writing than a bunch of shut-ins who wanted nothing more than to play cowboys and indians while ripping off Tolkien. Whether you want to write a sweeping epic or a mindless dungeon crawler, there’s a way to reconfigure d&d lore. 

Join me below the cut for a discussion of different ways to use evil in your games.

Children cannot control their emotions nor their fear, they lack the life experience necessary to contextualize things beyond a surface level reading. If you ask a child to "imagine something bad" they're going to take something that scared them, something gross or unpleasant or threatening and imagine it blown up to cartoonish proportion. Tolkien got bit by a spider as a kid and the entire fantasy genre has never lived it down.

D&D is weird because it keeps these childish ideas about evil and drags them forward into an adult context. Those three demon gods I mentioned in the intro make a sort of sense when you realize they're fears of dying, pain, and uncleanliness made manifest. That said most of us having outgrown our childish simplicity understand that those things are neutral, Spiders might personally gross you out but we all understand that doesn't make them bad on a spiritual level. In the base d&d lore however that personal distaste is ALWAYS true: Evilness is synonymous with ugliness and monstrousness, drawing a thick crayon line between the good people and the bad things.

That's where we get our particular flavor of backwards people, because one of those fundamental (pun intended) fears d&d inherited from it's creators was xenophobia, fear of the strange, but also fear of the stranger. When the white, suburban, middle class, christian creators of d&d imagined the other they took all the bad things they had been told in their youth about people who were not them and made them into monsters: That's why the default thinking enemies of d&d are tribal primitives who squat in the ruins of greater civilizations worshipping demons while coveting the beauty and wealth of cultured people. It sounds hyperbolic, but there's a one for one parallel between between the weird sexual anxieties conservatives have about black men and orcs raiding human lands to kidnap women as breeding stock. Same fears about emasculation and race mixing and ethnic replacement, only d&d gives the good ol' boys a narrative vehicle where they can revenge themselves upon their imagined foe.

Most modern d&d is not like this, and I chalk that up to the demographic shift that's happened both because of time passing and the influx of new voices that came along with the 5e renaissance. We're all media literate enough to avoid the obvious racial pantomime... except in cases like the Hardozee when the devs port something almost word for word from an older edition and we get a thanksgiving uncle/facebook aunt screed about how the silly monkey people are really SO happy to work for the refined and civilized and white elves.

What's left behind however is that pervasive childlike worldview: Where perfectly natural things that creep us out (like rot) or frighten us (like pregnancy) are made universally villainous regardless of any themes that are going on in that specific story. Ask yourself why the creators of a piece of media made their badguys look and act like they did, rather than just accepting that it's that way because "the lore says so".

Anyway, that's my rant over, and I promised you guys some different versions of how to use Evil:

Classic demons or lovecraftian horrors make for good bossfights but are thin on character, one of the basic building blocks of story. To remedy this, pair your unremitting force of darkness and destruction with a troubled and nuanced mortal agent, someone who is trying their general best but has been forced down this low road by circumstances beyond their control. This gives your roleplaying focused players something to play off against while your combat focused ones battle a building sized monstrosity. Raw evil isn't interesting, it becomes interesting when we see what it makes morally grey people, even good people, do in reaction to it.

Extremity is one of the best ways to turn normal people into villains, a looming disaster or recent crisis that's putting the pressure on everyone and preventing anyone from thinking beyond protecting themselves and their own. Beyond the people acting rashly, you're also going to have a legion of opportunists offering to fix the problem as your higher rank of antagonists to overcome.

Similarly, if you're going to have your villain backed up by legions of faceless mooks you're going to need a reason for their loyalty. Your villain is offering them something worth dying for, which gives your heroes an alternate win condition for overcoming their numbers beyond genocide.

If you're willing to take a step into a more fanciful, cartoony universe, feel free to play with the idea of good and evil as arbitrary teams: It's the badguy's job to cause chaos and it's the goodguy's job to stop em, they're all working professionals and the dungeon is the workplace comedy. This is fun, but then lets you escalate the tension when someone doesn't play by the rules. What happens when a zealot starts executing evildoers who'd already surrendered? what happens when the villain summons something that is more interested in devastation than wacky hijinx?

Think of morality like a punnett square: There's the party, and then there's the villain who wants the opposite of what they want. THEN there's the villain who wants what the party wants, and the ally who wants the opposite of party wants. Suddenly rather than a simple binary, the party is forced to balance the interest of varying groups as well as their better judgment. This can be made even MORE complex by creating different categories of "what the party wants", which is generally how you get complex political dramas like game of thrones.

#heavy topics #writing advice #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #ttprg #pathfinder

[skeletondeerart]

Stories of the Sky People

Sully Family x GN!Dream Walker Reader (Platonic) | Word Count: 1209 Words

Synopsis: Tasked with watching the Sully kids while Jake and Neytiri are away leads (Y/n) to recite the ‘Ugly Duckling’ story by Hans Christian Anderson, one of their favourite stories back on Earth to keep the kids occupied until their parent return.

The reader is the same age as Jake.

I never knew my life would turn out like this, taken in by a world many light years away from my birthplace. I have finally found my place amongst the people of Pandora. In particular. In the embrace of the Sully family.

Back on Earth Jake and I were both marines. Him an ex-soldier since he became paralysed. And me? I was a Captain yet also resigned alongside Jake when I lost my leg from a mine.

It was tough for the both of us. But our injuries bound us together through the worst times in our lives. We quickly became like siblings to each other, and we mourned together when we got news that Tom was killed in action. That was when we were both requested to join the Avatar program. They needed Jake to pilot Tom’s avatar and my own avatar was approved to begin the growing process since they deemed me a suitable candidate to gain information on the Na’vi.

We had nothing left to loose, so we signed the papers without hesitation and began our new lives.

That leaves us with today, I sat in the family home with Tuktiery in my lap. Kiri sitting to my left, Lo’ak to my right, Neteyam sitting cross legged in front of me and Spider laid beside Neteyam. I was one their own, like an Auntie/Uncle to the young Na’vi. I made jokes and orchestrated pranks on their Father just to see Jake flick me the finger as we all ran from the scene of the crime.

“So, what happened then?” Tuk gasped her yellow eyes wide with wonder.

“The Mother duck came to realise that one of her babies didn’t look like the rest, they were grey and much larger than their tiny yellow siblings. Yet that didn’t matter to her. She leads all the babies into the water watching them swim along with her, even the grey baby. The mother was happy that her grey baby swam like the rest and thought to herself “Why, that's no turkey," she said. "See how nicely he uses his legs, and how straight he holds himself. He's my very own son after all, and quite good-looking if you look at him properly. Quack, quack come with me. I'll lead you out into the world and introduce you to the duck yard.” My quaking impression got a chuckle out of the kids as my smile also grew at their happiness.

All the Sully Children were wrapped up in the story, maybe it resonated with them in a sense. Being half human and half Na’vi, well in Spider’s case, a human amongst the Na’vi. Feeling like an outlier in their clan.

“The Mother duck’s friends complimented all of her children yet insulted the grey duckling, the grey duckling was pecked at and shunned by all the different animals, the other ducks, the hens, the humans. So, when he grew up, he left.”

A gasp left the five children at this twist.

“Oh no! Poor grey duckling!” Tuk whimpered. I ran my hand up and down her back in a comforting manner.

“The story isn’t over yet Tuk.” I stated with a smile as I continued, “The grey duckling flew away from his Mother, sick of the treatment from all the other animals. He then found his way to a lake that had elegant white swans. The grey duckling said to himself "I shall fly near these royal birds, and they will peck me to bits because I, who am so very ugly, dare to go near them. But I don't care. Better be killed by them than to be nipped by the ducks, pecked by the hens, kicked about by the hen-yard girl, or suffer such misery in winter."

“The poor grey duckling thought himself as ugly because that was all anyone, but his mother had told him. But in fact, he was quite wrong. As he lands in the clear waters exclaiming to the beautiful swans to kill him, he bowed his head and caught his reflection. He was no longer the reflection of a clumsy, dirty, grey bird. He himself was a swan! Being born in a duck yard does not matter, if only you are hatched from a swan's egg.”

“He was praised by the other swans and the other animals of the yard. He felt so very happy, but he wasn't at all proud, for a good heart never grows proud. He thought about how he had been persecuted and scorned, and now he heard them all call him the most beautiful of all beautiful birds. He sang out "I never dreamed there could be so much happiness, when I was the ugly duckling."

“Awwwwww~” Kiri cooed, “I’m glad the duck- I mean swan had a happy ending.”

Tuktiery had a big smile on her face as the conclusion of the story. Neteyam had a warm look in his eyes and Lo’ak lent back on his hands with a smile on his own face. Spider has a grin on his as he looked to the woven floors.

“I loved that story when I was little, Mum used to read it to me every night” Jake stated with a warm smile recalling his memories, as he entered the home alongside Neytiri. I gesture to them ‘I see you’ and the kids quickly follow suit, as Jake and Neytiri sign back.

“Got into any trouble when we were gone (Y/n)?” Neytiri asked with a smirk on her face.

I gasp in mock horror. “Me Neytiri? Never” I said with my own smirk. “I was just telling the kids some of the stories from Earth.”

“Yes Mum! (Y/n) always has cool stories from the sky!” Tuktiery excitedly stated, yet stifling a yawn.

“Earth, baby. We came from Earth.” I correct.

“Yeah, Earth!” Tuk giggled.

“That was a wonderful story (Y/n), thank you for sharing it with us” Neteyam thanked with a warm smile and nod.

“No worries Neteyam, anytime.” I smile as I lean forward to ruffle his hair dragging a laugh from him.

“I think it’s time for bed, I think” Jake says as he watches Tuk drift in and out of sleep in my arm. This gets a hum of acknowledgement from Neytiri and I as we all move into bed. Jake gently pries Tuk from my arms as she settles quickly into her Father’s arms. Jake lays down in the middle, Neytiri to his right and me to the left. Kiri curls up by my side as Neteyam cuddles with his Mum and Spider wedges his way in-between Jake and I, that’s when Lo’ak decided to lounge across everyone gaining a groan from all of us.

“Lo’ak move your butt!” Spider groans and he kicks Lo’ak in the shin.

“Owwwww! Spider lay off!” Lo’ak wines yet doesn’t move an inch.

“Enough boys!” Jake scolds through his teeth, trying to keep Tuktiery asleep. That was enough to get Lo’ak to move and let poor Spider breathe.

“Sleep.” Neytiri states with her eyes shut.

I could only smile at Neytiri’s blunt parenting style.

“Sweet dreams everyone.” I murmur.

“Goodnight.” The Sully’s reply before we all fell into the embrace of sleep.

I would do anything to protect this family.

#Sully family x reader #ATWOW #avatar the way of water #avatar #James Cameron #Dreamwalker #2009 #Jake #Neytiri #Neteyam #Kiri #Spider #Lo'ak #Tuktiery #Navi #Na'vi #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #found family #Sully #Sully kids

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Not sure if this is the right place to ask this but I gotta start somewhere. I've been learning a lot about indigenous history and activism as I work on deconstruction, and a sentiment I come across a lot is bitterness towards Christianity. I cannot emphasize enough how much I fully understand. The rough bit is that sometimes when I read their work, I get the implication that there's nothing worth saving in the Church/Christianity- that to hold on to it is to hold on to all the colonialism and white supremacy and yuck.

As a disabled trans Christian, I get that, but it still hurts. I love God and am a Christian despite everything. I want to be an ally to indigenous people, but I want to follow God this way too. I know those aren't mutually exclusive, but it feels that way sometimes. Do you have any insight for me to find peace in this regard?

Thank you.

Hey there, thanks for the question, sorry for the delay!

This is something I've also wrestled with — a question I ask myself over and over, and probably always will. I cannot offer you peace, because as Jeremiah 6:14 says, "There is no peace!" — not while our faith continues to be wielded as a weapon against so many peoples. What I can offer you are some of the thoughts that have allowed me to continue to be Christian with hope that this faith can be better than what it's long been misused for, and the resolve to do my part to make it so.

First, that Christianity isn't unique in being co-opted by colonialist powers.

Any belief system can be twisted for violence, and many have been. If Christianity didn't exist, white supremacy still would — colonialist powers would have found a different belief system to twist into justifying their evils.

That absolutely does not absolve us from reckoning with the evils that have been done in Christianity's name! This isn't about shutting down critiques of Christianity with "uh well it could have been any religion" — as things played out, Christianity is the religion responsible for so much harm, and we need to acknowledge that and listen to groups who tell us how we can make some form of reparations.

But for me at least, there is some comfort in understanding that Christianity isn't, like, inherently evil or something. Recognizing that it isn't unique even in its flaws helps me look at the problem with clearer eyes, rather than wallowing in guilt and shame, if that makes sense.

Next, that there are Indigenous Christians, and Black Christians, and other Christians of color — that oppressed peoples have found things worth cultivating within Christianity! If they can find something worthwhile in this faith, it would be arrogance for me to deny it.

For instance, even when white slaveholders edited Bibles to remove too much discussion of liberation, even when white preachers emphasized verses about slaves being obedient to their masters, many enslaved people recognized how Christian faith actually affirms their equality and the holiness of their desire for liberation.

Black Theologian Howard Thurman opens his 1949 book Jesus and the Disinherited with a question asked to him by a Hindu man who knew the harms white Christianity had done to both their peoples: “How can you, a black man, be Christian?” The long and short of Thurman’s answer is that, in spite of the pain and exploitation too often inflicted by Christians in positions of power, the oppressed have always been able to see past that misuse of the Christian message to the true message lived out by Jesus Christ: a message of liberation for all.

For more thoughts on why and how to keep being Christian in spite, in spite, in spite...I invite you to look through my #why we stay tag.

___

How I wish that Christianity had never gotten tangled up in Empire! but it did, and it still is, and because for good or ill I cannot help that my spirit is stubbornly drawn towards the Triune understanding of the Divine, the best I can do is to use my privilege and what small influence I have within Christian institutions to move us towards decolonization. What some of that's looked like on the level of my personal beliefs:

I am firmly against any form of proselytizing. I don't support evangelism financially, I speak out against it, I don't platform it. (If someone wants to hear about my faith, they'll come to me — I don't run after them. And if someone does want to have that conversation, I aim to make it a dialogue, where we are learning from each other.)

I continuously work to recognize and uproot Christian supremacy within myself — the beliefs I didn't even realize where there until I started digging. That has included challenging any inkling within myself that Christianity is the "best" or "most right" religion. (One book that's helped a lot with that is Holy Envy by Barbara Brown Taylor.)

I seek wisdom from and relationship with Christians of color. Their insights are vital to our faith, and I try to use what small influence I have to uplift them.

On that last note, here are some resources I recommend as you continue to explore these questions:

This First Nations Version of the Christian Bible is gorgeously written, and a great way to explore scripture through a Native lens.

Native by Kaitlin B. Curtice is a lovely poetic memoir that explores how one person has sought to hold both her Christian faith and Potawatomi identity within herself. (She also has a new book out that I haven't read yet but really want to!)

God is Red: A Native View of Religion by Vine Deloria Jr.

Rescuing the Gospel from the Cowboys by Richard Twiss

I haven't read any of these 4 books but they look good too

This video with advice to non-Indigenous Christians

If anyone has any resources to add, please do!

#why we stay #issues in christianity

[heartfullofleeches]

Yandere Priest x GN! Reader

Another part to my yandere supernatural harem. Masterlist here

Story has some Christian themes, but is not completely based from them

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: light body horror, character injury, briefly mentioned non consensual kiss, religious themes

Biting. Clawing. Tearing. The only thing he could remember. Talons piercing his skin, teeth on the vital arteries beneath – bursting under each individual fang. A robbery gone wrong had led this man to a fate crueler than death; a vicious beast spawned right before his eyes with a single mission in its mind, to make him feel absolute anguish. Lying on the cold earth. No one to comfort him in his final moments, unlike the person he’d harmed. Light fading-

He wakes up. The room is cold, he’s cold. He holds himself, memories flooding back to conscious mind. It felt better than where he had been moments before – anything did. He looked around the room. It looked empty, but something was there. He could feel it.

“Good evening.”

He turns. Someone stares from the shadows of the room. Bandaged hands clasp tightly over their lap, one looser than the other.

“W..who the fuck are you?”

“No need for that kind of language. I’m just here to ask a few questions. You know, when you died they said it looked like a bear had mauled you, but there isn’t any place where one could’ve come from for miles.”

He swallowed.

“But I’m not here for that. I want to know more about a friend of yours.”

-

A tall figure looms over you, hand gripping the blankets wrapped snugly around your body. The presence was suffocating; like said hand was slowly reaching for your neck. It instead hooks onto your blankets and tears them from your arms in one swift move.

“Good morning, Y/n!”

You groan, sitting up to meet the blank, yet bright eyed angel by your bedside. The enormous smile on his face pulls even further; meaning you had yet to rid the sleep from your eyes. 

“Isn’t it like… 9:00am.”

He chuckles. “No, eight actually. Did you forget our plans for the day?”

You groan louder. A grim reaper, demon, and your very own guardian angel. Pains in your side for the majority of their stay, who’s thorns you were finally getting used to. With the couple rules you had in place already, another few had been added to the pile; namely in the comfort of your fellow housemates. One day of every weekend, each one of them would get a day without you; with the final weekend of the month being for yourself – which went about as well as one could imagine. The reaper and demon had already had their turn for the month, and so now it was the angel’s turn. 

The thought had been brewing in Alasdair’s mind for a while. He had heard, and even read, of the various religions on earth; but knew little beyond average knowledge. During his time in heaven, he carried little about the human realm, until he met you; developing an interest in the cultures to benefit you both. For his day with you, he asked if you would join him in visiting a church; which you reluctantly agreed to. It was more toned down than racing shopping carts through grocery store aisles and had more to it than just relaxing on the couch – not that you really had a problem with either. 

“Come on, we’ll be late if you don’t get up.” Alasdair pulls the blankets further from your grasp and helps you up. You shower and put on your Sunday best; him already ready to head out. With a formal suit and tie being eighty percent of his wardrobe, you didn’t expect him to have to do much to prepare anyway. You say your goodbyes to the other two and head out.

-

The building was an elegant structure. Faded white bricks made up its walls; a tall tower stuck to the hip of the main building – a silver cross upon its peak and along the edges of the center place. Tinted glass surrounded each window; a large circulator panel over tall, oak wood doors standing out above the otherwise rectangular glass. The twin doors stand propped open for the day’s service; faint light at the end of the altar glowing ominously – like distant flames of a furnace.  The smell of herbs and burning candle wax hit strong as you enter; both you and Alasdair sitting in pews at the very back of the church.

The interior was even more marvelous. Cream colored walls basked in a warm light from lanterns; 

Moments after you settle down, a man walks up to the podium before the altar. Specs of grey salts his shoulder length, champagne hair colored; a single green eye visible through the unkempt mane – smiling cordially at the crowd below. Bandaged poke from the collar of his black robes to the sleeves; small scars dawning his pale knuckles. He places his hand on the surface of the podium, surveying the room with a quick sweep as the kind smile from his eye spreads to his lips. In the very last second his gaze washed over the room, you could have sworn he took a double glance at you.

“Friends, family, newcomers. We thank you all for joining us on another glorious day that the lord has given us. Let us join in faith and allow him to guide us in his glory to a brighter light.”

After the morning prayer, he begins to read off scripture verse from the Bible. Alasdair seems completely encapsulated in the words of the priest, but you couldn’t shake the familiar feeling of being watched. 

“Blessed are those who trust in the Lord and have made the Lord their home and confidence.”

Once service ends, you and Alasdair prepare to leave. If you hurried, there was time to get a bit more reset before the next activity of the day. Before you could make it to the exit, footsteps click to a halt on the checkered floor behind you. 

“Good day.”

You turn. The priest stands before you, arms tucked behind his back with a grin plastered to his face. It felt – different from the one he gave before. More genuine than before, yet eerie at the same time.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you two before. It’s always nice to have young new faces.”

Alasdair extends a hand, and a friendly smile. “Alasdair, and this is Y/n.”

Basically ignoring Alasdair, the priest turns his focus to you, offering his palm to you instead. “Father Aiken. It’s a pleasure.” 

You hesitantly shake it. His grip is firm; the gesture lasting a few seconds longer than needed. He stares you down, calloused fingers deep in your palm – the pulse beneath almost palpable. He lets go and returns his hand to its original position. 

“Our doors are always open. Come by anytime.” He nods in Alasdair’s general direction before heading off. You decide to leave without questioning it any further. 

On the way home, you strike up a conversation with Alasdair. 

“So.. what did you think?”

“It was.. an interest. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it before, but before we met I paid little attention to your kind. It’s quite the experience to hear more about your beliefs in our creator.” He furrowed his brows. “But that man seemed.. off.”

 “What do you mean?”

“Every being gives off some kind of aura, even us angels. They could be factors in your race, or measures of your moral code like with you humans. Aiken didn’t have one at all. The only other time I’ve seen this is with…” He shakes his head.” ah, it’s probably nothing to worry about. Did you have a good time, Y/n?”

“It was alright… Would you go again?”

“I’m honestly not sure."

-

Days go by and you pretty much push the encounter to the back of your mind. You head out with Baron one day to pick up a couple things from the grocery store; the demon fortunately in human form as he rushed through the isles like a bat out of hell. With him off on his own, you venture elsewhere to find your personal wares. As you search the many shelves, a familiar voice calls from over your shoulder.

“Y/n?”

Looking back, you see Father Aiken; dressed in a casual outfit of a sweater and pants – shopping basket in one hand. It was easier to see the cloth wrapped around his body in the looser clothing; discolored poking from their length. He places his hand over his chest as he lets out a soft gasp.

“Ah, I thought it was you, my dear. How are you on this fine afternoon?”

“Not bad. How about you, Father?”

“Oh please, call me Jeremiah. No need for formalities. I didn’t see you at our last service. I don’t mean to pry, but will you ever return?”

You crack a nervous smile. “Sorry… I’ve just been busy with.. things-"

He frowns a bit. “Ah well, that's unfortunate. Excuse me.”

Jeremiah goes to grab something from the shelf beside your head, only for it to slip from his grasp and class to the ground. Being closer, you kneel to pick it up; yet he does the same. His hand glides over yours, but instead of pulling back he grabs it. You attempt to worm free, but he strokes the back of your palm as he squeezes your hand. 

“I knew it… You’ve been through so much haven’t you, Y/n?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have troubles. Ones you can’t talk about with others. Haunted by foolish mistakes.” 

You clench your jaw; looking towards the ground – his smile grows. 

“Please stop by this weekend. We’re having a baptism, and I’d love to get to speak with you more.

He lets you go, standing up right as Baron turns the corner with the shopping cart. The two share a passing glance, but Jeremiah leaves. Baron rushes over to you.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good…”

-

You get dressed for the service before either of your bedmates wake up – or so you thought. As you leave the bathroom, Alasdair stands near the doorway waiting.

“Are you heading somewhere, Y/n?”

“Nowhere specific. Just heading out.” You reply, avoiding eye contact. 

“Would you like me to come with you?”

“I’m fine on my own.”

“Are you sure-"

“Yes.” As comfortable as you were getting with them around, there were always times you felt suffocated by their constant attention – maybe that’s why you were going where you were now. Alasdair drops the subject, a thin frown on his face. You squeeze past him and exit the room. He looks over at Baron who had been woken by fuss. 

“It looks like I’ll be heading out too.” 

-

The service goes on without a hitch. At its end, Jeremiah calls forth a young male sitting in the front row. The pair stand before a small fountain, the waters within giving of a golden light; though hard to tell whether it was from the lights above or the bowl. The man kneels, Jeremiah dipping his palm into the cool waters. He swipes his hand over the man’s forehead as he speaks.

“Today we acknowledge the death of your old self and the professions of faith. You have been raised to a new life along the path of your worship, and in the name of the Holy Lord I now baptize you.”

He brings his finger down in the opposite direction, helping the man to his feet afterwards. The service lets out soon after that and he walks to you, sitting beside you as the final person leaves. He gently places his hand on your leg. 

“You came. I’m glad.”

“What did you mean.. back at the store?”

He exhales. “You are a very special person, Y/n. I could see that even during our first meeting, and I can also see what’s been shackled to you for many months. Powerful entities that barely leave you with a breath to spare. Am I wrong?”

You sigh. “Not completely.”

“It seems you’ve grown attached to them as well, and that’s understandable, but the best course of action might be to let it all go.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Give yourself over to faith, Y/n. By my hand, and the lord’s, we can help you find eternal peace. You can live without a single worry.”

You look away. Sure, the group was a pain, but they had grown on you – just like he said. The times of you wanting to get completely rid of them were in the past, but sometimes they still came into question. The multiple times you escaped near death had worn you down. Many things had. Everything he had said sounded ridiculous, but so much of your life up to this point had been as well.

“I don’t know about that.”

Jeremiah smiles warmly. “It’s alright, my dear. We all need time before tough choices. I’ll expect you next week.”

-

Alasdair watches you from behind a pillar, heart sunken at the defeat in your eyes. He eases past and to a door at the end of the hall – Jeremiah's office. It’s what you’d typically expect to see in such a place. A fan in one corner, calendar and various religious tapestries along the walls – desk in the center of the room. He goes over to it, searching the drawers for any information. The first few are empty, yet the final catches his eye. It has a lock; broken like wet tissue paper with enough force. At first all he sees is papers that seem unimportant at first, until he stumbles across a photo. One of you.

There’s more beneath. Ones of you at work; on the way home – inside your house. Dates written in red ink are printed on the back. He looks over the papers once more. Upon second glance; he realizes they ate schedules of your habits – likely looking for the right moment you’d be alone. As if it couldn’t get worse,, the final item in the drawer chills him to the core. It was a bone. The wing bone of a bird.

-

You return home hours later. It was actually nice to take to another human for a little while. Your conversation derailed from your problems and to average questions about the day – like something friends would have. The second you unlock the door, hands grip your shoulders and pull you in like the talons of a hawk.

“Where. Were. You.”

Alasdair’s stare is unlike anything you’ve never seen. Unhinged, panicked. He holds onto your like you’d slip through the cracks if he let go. It almost hurt.

“I went to church. Is that a crime?”

“Stay away from that man. He’s not safe to be around.”

“He seems fine to me. Let go- that hurts!”

He immediately lets you go at the announcement of your discomfort, not realizing he had been unintentionally clamping down on your shoulder. The surface is red, throbbing. The anger and fear in him instantly turns into guilt.

“I.. I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just want to keep you safe. That’s what we all want.”

You bit your lip; bite back what you have to say. When was it your turn to get what you wanted? These people have forced their way into your life, and while you made your peace with it; you longed for a taste of your life before. The silence. 

“Promise me that you won’t go back.”

“I promise…

“Look at me and say it.”

You stare him in the eyes. “I promise I won’t go back.”

-

You wake at the crack of dawn, far before anyone else. You had slept that night with Maddox to further throw off suspicion. They were nestled in the corner of the couch, practically swallowed by it to give you as much space as they could. He had a look of utter contentment on his face. He always did when you slept with him. You replace your body with one of the arm pillows and leave; unaware of the eyes from the shadows.

-

The sun barely peaks over the horizon as you make it to the church. You planned on just camping out, but find the doors to be unlocked as you test them to make sure. The building is even creepier in the early hours. An empty husk of it could be; pews empty except for the silent wind. You see a figure at the end of the walkway and take a few steps forward; taking note of how it was a few inches taller than Jeremiah as you neared, and wearing less baggy, more formal clothes. 

“You lied to me, Y/n.”

Alasdair glares down at you, closing the distance. He doesn’t let you make your case; grabbing your wrist as he heads to the exit. “We’re leaving.”

“I just wanted to give him an answer.”

“He doesn’t deserve any of your time, forget him.”

“You don’t understand…”

He grabs your other wrist, forcing you to look at him as he halts in the middle of the aisle; fear and trepidation clear on his face. Something you’ve only seen once before. “No, Y/n, you don’t understand. That man has been watching you. He’s been killing ange-" 

Halfway through his sentence, something pierces Alasdair’s chest. His eyes meet yours, golden blood dribbling over his lips. The item removes itself from the cavity; his body slumping backwards. His hands still hold onto you, lightly pushing you away – almost telling you to run instead of it being the force of his limbs growing slack. As he collapses to the floor, you see the cause of the damage – blood dancing along the thin fingers of a bandaged hand.

You had seen Alasdair get hurt before. You were cutting something, and dropped the knife. He grabbed it, blade first with his bare hand – not even a drop of blood falling from the wound. Just an empty void in his palm.

“It’s alright, Y/n. There’s nothing man-made that can hurt me.”

“A pest this one was. Most of his kind are. Ah well, this was bound to be his fate someday.”

Jeremiah brings his hand to his face, licking the blood from each individual finger. As if only noticing you once he finished the cruel act, he grins.

“Hello, my dear.”

You trembled; legs geared to flee, yet remained stiff as stone. He steps on Alasdair’s sprawled out hand as he walks towards you.

“I’m very happy to see you again, Y/n~”

You stare past him, at Alasdair’s body; the blood circling him like tar. “H…how?”

“Growing up God, my family was extremely religious , even in the toughest hour. I tried my hardest to follow behind, but even then I knew the truth. God abandoned us, Y/n.”

You look in his direction.

“Did he ever tell you that? It’s the first thing those like him say.  Blindlessly following orders from something that hasn’t been heard from in years. Sounds familiar doesn’t it?”

He cocks his head to the side, farther than humanly possibly. “Do you know why?”

“It’s because he’s dead.” 

The bandages around his neck and arms fall; like whatever lies beneath was too much to keep wrapped. The skin under is raw, fleshy; pinkish like the muscles beneath – bulging off his body like a virus. Eyes tear through the mesh; blink starred, half lidded. The “flesh” drips over his left arm, its length and combining his fingers into a singular mass. Through the strands of his hair, his other eye becomes visible. Eyes to paint a better picture. Another eye had squeezed itself into the socket; iris yellow in color and surrounded by small rings. 

“And I’m his replacement.”

“A..are you saying that you…”

“Killed God? Heaven’s no, silly! I merely found his corpse and ate it. I suspect the lazy bastard died sometime after the creation of man.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re killing angels.” 

“Not just angels. Anything that stands in my way. Humans are terribly flawed, Y/n. A majority of us worship a corpse for Christ’s sake! I’ll be what he failed to be. A Shepherd for humanity and bring it to its most prosperous hour. The light at the end of the tunnel. But none of that can be done, without you.”

He brings his hand up to your face, gently stroking your cheek. The limb is hot, almost unbearably so. He gives you the same warm smile he always had.

“I wasn’t lying when I said you were special, Y/n.. You’ve brought so many from beyond the veil to your doorstep when you’re what some would call an average person. I’ve been watching you, unsure what I should do with someone like you; but overtime I’ve come to see what those vermin have as well. You’re an extraordinary being with the will to go on after so much pain. What many have lost the will to do. You make me feel something I haven’t been in ages… human.”

He presses his lips to yours, locking you in a kiss with his hand to the back of your neck. Alasdair’s blood still clings to his bottom lip. He pulls away with a look of amazement. 

“What a rush! Ah, I’ve missed feeling things like this. You’re the only one who can ground me to this reality, make sure I keep the one thing I lost so long ago. I was planning on taking you myself, but since you came on your own I knew our courtship was meant to be.  You feel the same way… right?~”

You don’t say anything. No words come to mind. Everything feels numb. You still look past him, at the body on the ground below. The blood rushes to your head. You’re unable to feel his tremendous gaze; the scream that echoes through the church’s hall – how your body falls from his grasp and unto the arms of another.

Maddox carries you in their arms away from the building; Baron close by with Alasdair’s limp form over his shoulders. Jeremiah is nowhere to be seen. Time feels like it’s going by at a crawl. You hear the faint tick of a clock as Maddox's skeletal hands drag you away from the scene. He looks down at you, expression unreadable as he covers your eyes with his free palm.

-

Upon returning home, Baron carries Alasdair to the bedroom to tend to his wounds. “He’s still warm.” Is all he gave you. Maddox stays with you on the couch, holding your shaking hands; your head in the crook of his neck. 

“He’ll be okay.” He tries, but you knew that neither of you knew if that was true. Though your memories were a haze after that final moment, you remember the last thing Jeremiah said to you.

“See you, soon…”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere story #yandere series #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere demon #yandere angel #yandere grim reaper #x reader #reader insert

[hyyyperfixated]

I'm glad people are mentioning the biblical inaccuracies that Hazbin has. like, I'm not a christian, I'm agnostic, but I grew up religious in churches and reading the bible and all of that and like god Viv if you're going to make fun of the bible do your research or it's just ineffective bullshit. Adam didn't die first. Peter would not be white. Heaven wouldn't look like that. The angels realistically should not be cussing, or having sex unless with someone they're married to (like we know Adam is), etc. The critique she's trying to give of religion is ridiculously ineffective when she's not even being consistent with the rules of her version of heaven. It does not make sense that several of the angels we saw acted just as bad or worse as the characters we've seen in Hell. It also doesn't make sense that the angels don't know how someone gets into heaven, Vivizie literally could have used the Ten Commandments as the blueprint and made the whole thing seem more thought out. I don't mind what they changed with Lucifer's backstory, I do think that could be an interesting change if done a little better, but overall she literally butchered the main premise of the show just by giving such little of a shit about making the villains actually interesting. Adam and Lute are like if Disney villains got to cuss and make sex jokes. There's nothing interesting or compelling about them. Do you know what would have been interesting? A more biblically accurate portrayal of heaven but the angels are morally gray. The angels should want to help the sinners, but in the end lookout for their own more. If they wanted to go with the whole head angel being the first human who died, going with who actually died first according to the bible would have been so more interesting. Hello, Abel? The one whose brother killed him in cold blood because he was jealous? There you go, you have the first angel who has the potential for layers beyond "oh I was the first dick haha sex joke I'm more powerful than you." The entire show would be so much more interesting if heaven was written better.

#SORRRY not sorry i'm so pissed off #caroline is talking #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical

[magumsilvarum]

Spirits and their common uses and misconceptions

So today I wanted to talk about a few spirits which, not much is so far known of through literary writing, but more so through celestial knowledge. (each spirit will have its own section)

The Pythoness - many Christian and Judea religions view the pythoness spirit as a demon like spirit that is meant to steer one away from Gods path and imbue one with negative thoughts such as death and sickness through the mind, yet I've personally found and many civilizations prior and after that the story is not as such. In yogic practices there is a certain breathe and practice of the kundalini. Kundalini is the term for "a spiritual energy or life force located at the base of the spine", conceptualized as a coiled-up serpent. The practice of Kundalini yoga is supposed to arouse the sleeping Kundalini Shakti from its coiled base through the 6 chakras, and penetrate the 7th chakra, or crown. This allows for an open pathway as a connection to God, elevated spirits and the spirits of the afterlife, our ancestral spirits, within celestial planes. In buddhism giant serpents were seen as protectors of the dharma, the truth that liberates us, standing strong against any attack. Many psychics, seers, mediums, witches and tarot card readers tend to have a spirit who knows one of two things about divination, prophecy and esoteric knowledge, but the pythoness spirit is looked at more like the all seeing eye or the eye of ra and horus. In greek mythology Leto the great she-wolf was cursed to never give birth upon the land as Hera set her out to be cursed by her daughter and for Gaia to not allow her to give birth to her two children. Through Zeus' interference Leto was able to give birth to both Artemis and Apollo. Later Apollo went to go slay a Snake that had threatened Leto and therefore gained the ability to turn into a snake himself. He declared the island previously known as Pythos to be Delphi and as the God of prophecy later became a hub for those seeking answers from great oracles once a year, known as Pythias. These women were great prophets and witches alike that danced with fire and tamed snakes to dance along with them protecting the island from attacks and monsterous threats as to pay respect to Apollo. These were women and men of wild nature who allows there instincts to guide them through the understanding of the great divine. One with nature they became medicine workers, prophets, seers, musicians, dancers, pyromancers, snake charmers, witches and mages and dream weavers.

These great spirits are revered as a highly elevated court in spiritualist practices, sometimes just perceived as the spirits of tarot decks or oracular objects they are forgotten as being far too complex to be seen as just that. Through the force of light they bring great aid to those they are on spiritual journey's with, they rid of hexes, curses and spiritual illnesses. They guide through prophetic dreams, clairvoyancy, clairsentience, clairaudience and mediumship. They are capable of conjuring powerful spirits and the spirits of the dead (necromancy), as well as a straight line communication to God, gods and goddesses. They move through the celestial tides of the universe and bring forth great health, wealth, abundance, freedom and spiritual knowledge to those they favor. They are quite benevolent spirits who help bring in death or the spirit of change for the better and to rid old stubborn ways of the past. They are great teachers of dark and light magic. They aid in learning and music as well. Helping those with charisma and the ability to enchant and/or charm enemies and others alike. They have such affinity towards chocolates, gold, silver, wine, fire, candles, light, mirrors, divination tools, water, flowers and floral scents, perfumes, snakes and music. There number is 7 and their flower is the rose, particularly the white rose, but other colors are fine as well. They also enjoy sunflowers, as they venerated Apollo, and the Anise star. Their colors are Red, burgundy, gold, emerald green, white, silver, purple, and brown. Yet each is different and might prefer a royal blue for all we know each spirit is different to another so getting to know ones spiritual court is quite important. Stones like diamond, ruby, jade, emerald, citrine, labradorite and amethyst can be given to such spirit as well as Selenite and Amber each representing Artemis and Apollo. These spirits can sometimes be confused with a better known spirit Santa Martha la Dominadora. You may even have both within your spiritual court, but they two hold many similarities.

Prayer to the Pythoness

O Blessed Pythoness, I invoke your humble yet wild nature into my life, I give you thanks for the visions told and untold and for the sight to see my path clearly. May your connection to God and all living things be great and full of love and respect. May your tides of wisdom bring peace to the land and bestow upon me and my loved ones a blessed hand. Lady of the fire, imbue me with your holy flames may they burn away all evil done unto me by others or by my own hand. May your light charm those who seek no good into doing acts of kindness and greatness and may your soothing voice bring sweetness and riches to the land and seas. You the one who tamed the dragon and serpent to your gracious hand. Tame my enemies and bring good fortune to those in need. Help the world against devastation and may your great cobra bring forth the promise land. Lady of the land and sea, conjure your celestial winds to protect me and bring good news from the heavenly lands. Through the eye of the one who can see I plea to you humbly and in need. As it is. So mote it be. Amen

Say this prayer with Psalm 91 3x and Psalm 4 3x under the flame of a white(or yellow) light end with a Glory be. It will help receive divine messages through divination or prophetic dreams and help transmute negative energy and protect against evil eye.

Oracion a La Pitonisa

O Bendita Pitonisa, Yo invoco tu humilde y salvaje espiritu de naturaleza entre mi vida, te doy las gracias por los visiones contado y no contado y por la vista para ver mi camino claramente. Que tu conexión a Dios y a todas criaturas vivas sea lleno de gran amor y respeto. Que las olas de sabiduria traen paz a toda la tierra y otogar a mi y mis seres queridos tu mano bendicida. Mujer de los fuegos, envuelvame con tus llamas benditas que me liberan de cualquier maldad sea enviado por enemigos o que han nacido de mi propia mano. Que tu luz encandile a los que no buscan el bien y les transformas hacer actos de carino y grandeza y que tu voz encantadora trae dulcisimiento y riquezas a la tierra y los mares. Tu que haz vencido el serpiente y el dragon con tu mano graciosa. Ayuda al mundo contra la devastación y que tu tierra prometida sea traido por tu gran cobra. Mujer de la tierra y mar, protejame con los vientos celestiales y que traen buena noticias del cielo. A través del ojo del que puede ver te suplico humildemente y de necesidad. Como es. Asi sera. AMEN

#espiritismo #spiritualism #spirituality #magic #white magic #spirits #pythia #pythoness #pitonisa #witchcraft #prayers #spiritualcourt #sanse #spells #brujo #bruja #brujeria #pagan #animism #ritual #occult #occultism #magick #esoteric #god #elevatedspirits #los espiritus #espiritus elevados

[otdiaftg]

The Raven King - Chapter Seven

Day: Thursday, October 5th Time: 11:30 PM EST

"I mean literally soft. Too many curves, see? I feel like my hands would slide right off. It's totally not my thing. I like..." He drew a box with his fingers as he searched for words. "Erik. Erik's perfect. He's a total outdoors junkie, rock climbing and hiking and mountain biking, all that awful bug-infested fresh-air stuff. He's stronger than I am, and I like that. I feel like I could lean on him all day and he wouldn't break a sweat." "Funny," Nicky said. "That didn't used to be my type. None of the others I crushed on growing up were anything like that. Maybe that's why none of them could help me." Nicky turned his hands palm-up on the table and considered them. "My parents are kind of crazy, you know? There's religious and there's super psychotic religious. Me and Renee, we're the decent sort, I think. We go to different churches and have some different ideas, but we respect each other anyway. We understand that religion is just an interpretation of faith. But my parents are the black-and-white crazy kind. It's only right and wrong with them: hellfire and damnation and judgment from on high. "For some reason I tried coming out to them anyway," Nicky said. "Mom was pretty upset. She locked herself in the bedroom and cried and prayed for days. Dad took a more direct route and shipped me off to Christian gay camp. I spent a year learning that I was infected by a disgusting idea from the devil, that I was a living test for every other good Christian on the planet. They tried using God to shame me into being straight. "It didn't work," Nicky said. "For a while I wished it did. I went home feeling like an abomination and a failure. I couldn't face my parents like that, so I lied. I pretended to be straight for the rest of high school. I even dated a couple girls. I kissed a couple of them, but I used my faith as an excuse never to get further than first base. I knew I just had to keep it together until graduation. "I hated my life so much," Nicky said. "I couldn't do that, you know? I couldn't live a lie like that day after day. I felt trapped. Some days I thought God abandoned me; sometimes I thought I failed Him. Halfway through my junior year I started thinking about suicide. Then my German teacher took me aside and told me about a study abroad program. She would set it all up for me, she said, if my parents would sign off on it. She'd handle admissions and get a host family and everything. It'd be expensive, but she thought I needed a change in scenery. Guess she knew I was that close to the edge. "I didn't think Mom and Dad would go for it, but they were so proud of me for my so-called recovery they agreed to let me go my senior year. I just had to last another semester and then I could go. I was so desperate to get out of there I didn't even really pay attention when Aaron and Aunt Tilda moved to Columbia that spring. All I cared about was keeping it together until May. I know now I should have tried harder, but I would've been no good to him how I was. "When the plane took off from Columbia, I was scared to death," Nicky said. "I was so relieved to leave my parents and everyone I knew, but I didn't know if being in Germany would change anything. When I landed, my new host brother was waiting for me in Arrivals. Erik Klose," Nicky said, sounding it out like he was saying it for the first time. "He taught me to believe in myself. He showed me how to balance my faith and my sexuality, and he made me okay again. I know it sounds dramatic, but he saved my life." Nicky flipped his hands over and laced his fingers together. The look he turned on Neil was as reassuring as it was worried and made Neil want to edge away. "That's what love is about, see? That's why Exy isn't ever going to be enough, not for you or Andrew or anyone. It can't hold you up, and it won't make you a stronger or better person."

Art used with permission by Kurra. Thank you @kurra !

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #trk #the raven king #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #palmetto state university #psu foxes #andreil #on this day in aftg #otdiaftg #palmetto state foxes #otdi all for the game #nora sakavic #the foxes #on this day in all for the game #kevin day #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #coach wymack #betsy dobson #abby winfield #matt boyd #dan wilds #renee walker #allison reynolds #artists #kurra

[thegaybluejay]

Okay hi I’m back with another ramble-y ATLA character analysis since this is low key my brand on here lmao-

Today I want to talk about Zuko from the lens of someone who also had to deconstruct. This will be long, but please bear with me!

I was raised in a very white conservative evangelical Christian bubble where literally EVERYONE I knew for the majority of my childhood and teenage years thought mostly the same way. There was a lot of othering and shaming of anyone who thought too differently. Even if it was sometimes said more passively than cruelly, there was always that underlying tone. “The others/the people outside of our group/the worldly ones are lost and need our help because we’re better than them!”

While I strived to not be cruel, my beliefs were still harmful. I lost a few friends when I got to my mid-late teenage years because I didn’t yet know how to challenge what I’d been taught.

I see so much of myself in Zuko.

Zuko was surrounded by propaganda his entire life. He was steeped in it - steeped in the blood of those that the system he supported/represented had hurt and killed.

Anger is a huge part of all of this. While my anger was never quite as outward as Zuko’s (I hid it fairly well and was always known as the “pretty good kid”), I can still so heavily relate to his anger. His anger at always falling just short of being good enough or perfect enough. His later anger at himself for not understanding how fucked up the system was sooner. His anger at the people that failed and hurt him. His anger at realizing how he failed and hurt other people. All of it.

I also understand his backslides in Book 2 and early Book 3. When you begin tackling the first layers of harmful shit you’ve been taught, it can quickly become so tempting to just call it quits and go back. You almost start to romanticize the simplicity of life before you began this journey. The rules and goals were so straightforward back then, and deconstructing is messy as hell. Even if you were deeply hurting in your old life, at least you weren’t so damn confused. You used to know your next steps, but now everything is in disarray and you don’t have a direction to rebuild in yet. Going back almost feels like it would be a survival tactic, a way to have a sense of control again. Zuko definitely 100% needed to atone for what he did in Ba Sing Se because it hurt others, and while I’d like to think I would’ve made a different choice in his shoes, I also get it on some level. The confusion stage sucks, and it’s not always linear either.

But then.

One day, something just clicks. You eventually deconstruct enough that you truly come to full terms with how fucked up it all is. And you realize that you don’t belong there anymore, and the version of you that DID belong was just a facade. The blinders fully come off, they’re never going back on, and a spark lights in you that prompts you to make a big change. The deeper you go, the more urgent this deconstruction becomes in your mind because holy fuck I have to do something about this. I want this shit out of my brain for good and I want to help make things better. I want to learn who I am and finally live that out.

THAT is one of the most pivotal points in the journey, and I loved seeing it within Zuko’s arc when he comes to this realization after the war meeting in Book 3 and leaves to join the Gaang. I also loved that they didn’t trust him the first time he came to them - both he as an individual and the system that he had once supported/represented had hurt these people, and it took some real apologies and some time to build up trust. It also wasn’t done with half assed centrism either - it was “I acknowledge that this system is completely broken and wrong and I will do everything in my power to help gut it from the top-down and restore it with love”.

This leads to another pivotal point in the journey - instead of being motivated by fear like you were when you were deep in the indoctrination or by the raw anger you first felt as you initially left, you start to be motivated by love. And it’s the most freeing thing.

It was so cool to see Zuko learn that, while his anger was a helpful tool (ie: the confrontation with his father and his overall anger at the corruption he saw in his nation), he couldn’t be fueled by it any longer. He had to find another motivation to keep going, and he was then taught by the Sun Warriors and the dragons how to be motivated by light and life and love and also how to use those alongside an anger that was finally righteous.

And with this, he was ready to fight. To fight for a cause he knew to be good. To fight arm in arm with his newly acquired family. To fight to fix what his nation had done to the world and to itself. To fight for love and peace instead of division and hate and destruction.

And wow is it a beautiful journey.

TL;DR - Zuko’s story is so powerful to those who are deconstructing and I love him so much! I also just enjoy doing character analysis hehe.

(I really love talking about ATLA, so if y’all want me to analyze other characters or even plotlines through a specific lens, feel free to submit an Ask and I will happily do so!!!)

(Also, quick ending note - this is just my personal experience with deconstruction! Other people’s retelling of their own deconstructions may be different from mine, and that’s totally okay!!)

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #prince zuko #character arcs #i really love zuko guys #deconstruction #deconstructing christianity #exvangelical

[papayanna]

I just wrote an essay in someone else's tags about this but honestly it deserves its own post. I'm such a fan of how the writers have reframed Lestat and Louis' romance.

In the IWTV film and the original book, their entire romance is framed through the lens of Louis' bitterness and resentment towards Lestat. Though it is undeniable in both that there is underlying affection and dependency between the two, Louis seems so blinded by his own retrospective remorse about the way things ended with Lestat - plus Claudia's death of course. Plus, I got the distinct impression in both the film and book that Louis is embarrassed about his love for Lestat - I think largely because in hindsight he understands wholly what an asshole Lestat really was, and is ashamed that his younger self fell in love with him so easily. As a consequence, many of the good things about their relationship - especially Louis actually falling in love with Lestat - sort of get glossed over.

I kind of love this framing device and the use of the Obviously Biased Narrator, and I sort of hope we'll see some of that bitterness seep through in Louis' retelling in later episodes, but I think the changes to the story they made in episode one work so wonderfully!

In the TV show, we get to see Louis fall for Lestat in slow motion, every tiny event which pushes him over the edge. The writers go to careful lengths to demonstrate that the love between them was real, liberating, and incredibly significant to Louis. What's more, because Lestat is there right from the beginning, Louis falls in love with Lestat before being turned, rather than after, giving them the chance to actually know each other (and for Louis to have at least a modicum more of informed consent about being turned). In the end, Louis seeks out vampirism to escape being a societal outcast and find acceptance and empathy from someone who promises he is just like him. He seeks understanding, he chooses life and love beyond the constraints of the racist homophobic society he lives in. What a contrast to the suicidal and apathetic Louis of the books! I'm going to be honest, I love this change. It clearly puts WAY more emphasis on the love story between Louis and Lestat rather than just focusing on the themes of grief so present in the original. It also changes the idea of vampirism as something horrible foisted on Louis without his consent, to something he chooses out of love, out of desperation, yes, but also out of hope for a better future. (Though of course we've yet to see just how much Lestat was influencing events!)

In my opinion, IWTV the series and IWTV the book tell two very different stories, and Louis is two very different men in each of them. Aside from the more obvious changes to characters' backstories and appearances, the themes are different as is Louis' driving motivation. (Though I would argue that some of the more obvious changes - like Louis being a Black man - very clearly contribute to thematic changes and the difference in the way his love with Lestat is portrayed. Him constantly fighting for respect from white society and having to prove himself to people he is more than equal to definitely contributes to the thought that he can escape to a 'better' reality through vampirism.)

Anyway, I just love how the writers have changed this story! I think that although it's very different to the source material it definitely offers an equally compelling and beautiful - if thematically different - plot. I'm so excited to see where the series goes from here - for example, will Louis still struggle with Catholic guilt after rejecting Christianity so openly at the end of EP1? Since Louis actively chose vampirism/to be with Lestat, how will that impact their relationship? How will it impact the turning of Claudia? Especially in the context of Lestat's whiteness, has Louis really found the understanding kindred spirit he thinks he has? So many questions. Hopefully the remaining episodes will be just as brilliant as the first!

#amc iwtv #iwtv #interview with the vampire #iwtv spoilers #pap speaks #god. sorry for the giant post that will inevitably get like 2.5 notes but i reeeaaally wanted to write about this #i have so many Thoughts!!!

[dailyadventureprompts]

Hey Dapper! As an avid follower of- and equally avid inspiration-taker from your work, first of all, thank you for the work you've put into all this. It is a treasure-trove of knowledge and inspiration that has certainly made me very happy. Can I ask for your thoughts on Tharizdun? I've been trying to form a concept of it for in my own world, but I've had little success.

Monsters Reimagined: Tharizdun, the Whisperer in Darkness

Being the default "god of madness" Tharizdun brings together two of my enduring gripes with d&d: gods that no one would actually worship and the enduring legacy of depicting people with mental illness as dangerous lunatics devoid of empathy and reason.

As he currently exists in the DM's toolbox, the whole point of including Tharizdun in your campaign is to act as the powersource behind whichever final fantasy style endboss wants to start the apocalypse before unleashing a mass of offband lovecraftian tentacles. Derivative, trite, his singular desire to inspire others to end the world is MCU levels of failing to give villains proper motivations.

We can do better

TLDR: Far In the wildest depths of the astral sea the ur-god Tharizdun is formless and thoughtless, yet dreaming. Resembling nothing so much as a cosmic nebula of oily clouds, a vast and shapeless expanse of churning primordial chaos that pulses with synapses of psychic lighting containing a consciousness older than time itself. Like a sleeper beset with sleep paralysis the chained oblivion thrashes against a reality it can only barely perceive, sending shockwaves of destruction across the cosmos.

While scholars of all worlds debate the true origins and nature of Tharizdun they can agree on two things:

It is more powerful than all the pantheons of creation, and it is terrified.

Inspiration: I wasn't originally going to do a whole monsters reimagined on Tharizdun, instead simply gesturing on what Matt Mercer has done with the deity (using the roiling chaos as a throughline for much of his Exandrian worldbuilding) and leaving it at that.

Around the same time I got this ask though I was considering doing my own take on Azathoth, the so called "blind idiot god" of the lovecraft mythos, inspiration struck and I decided to alloy the two concepts into what I think is a stronger whole. There's a lot of overlap in the two formless horrors, partly due to Tharizdun being a d&d's attempt to dip its toe into eldritch horror, without quite understanding the thematic framework involved.

Like many other things ( Minorities, the sea, decay, air conditioning) Lovecraft was terrified of objective reality. This might sound like a joke, but fundamental to his mythos is the fear that earth and the white men that lived upon it were not the centre of the universe created by a loving god. Lovecraft lived in increasingly scientific times and the science supported the idea of a universe in which humanity's existence was the meaningless product of random chance. Azathoth was this anxiety embodied in its most extreme scale: the capital G god of the universe which sat in the middle of all creation that was not only uncaring towards humanity (as many of Lovecraft's creations were) but the embodiment of ultimate unthinking chaos.

Trying to port Azathoth (and most of the other lovecrafitan pantheon) doesn't work because the conceits of the genre fundamentally clash. D&D DOES propose a moral universe, and goes out of its way to simplify morality down to such a cartoonish level that it has objective answers. In Lovecraft the horror comes from the fact that the cultists and their fucked up alien gods exist, where as the moral christian god doesn't... in d&d there's no reason for the cultists to worship the fucked up alien gods because the regular gods are both existent and quite nice.

The default d&d cosmology has multiple infinite voids of chaos including limbo, the abyss, and the far realm. I've already given my take on one of these, but I wanted an alternative for the origins of the weird that wasn't specifically focused on entropic decay.

There's a fascinating (and very depressing) history over the term hysteria and the connotations of mental crisis with feminine fragility. The word itself comes from the greek word for womb and there's something about the idea of "primal birthing chaos" that's worth playing with insofar as it makes weird rightoids Jordan Peterson deeply afraid.

Taking these thoughts as well as my earlier gripes in mind, its going to take a bit of an overhaul to make Tharizdun/Azathoth as a credible antagonistic force for a campaign. Also, this might be my own bias as an author showing through here but I don't go in for the lovecrafitan "truths too terrible to be understood". I think the universe is a fundamentally knowable place and if things exist outside our means of perceiving them then we'll just bullrush through and work out a temporary explanation on our way.

Here's my Fix/Pitch: Both Tharizdun and Azathoth are supposed to represent primordial chaos and formless madness. D&D's less than stellar history with mental health issues aside, we know that "madness" isn't evil and it isn't the antithetical opposite of order: It's flawed reason, it's an inability to comprehend, and it's deeply scary for those going through it.

THAT ended up reminding me of a famous quote from lovecraft himself; "The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown".

What if we make THAT FEAR into the god? Imagine the panicked sensation of being woken from the deepest slumber by a sudden noise, the door opening or a loud bang going off somewhere on your street..... the phantom horror of something touching you, crawling over you in the middle of the night before you have any of your senses or reason or memory to tell you that it's just your partner or your pet or your own bed sheets. That's the stuff sleep paralysis is made of and it's been haunting us humans since the dawn of time. It's also the same horror of being born, of being a non-thing and then coming into existence in fits and starts without any understanding of the world that you're now

Now imagine there's something out there in the astral sea, the plane of dreams and thoughts... powerful beyond all imagining but created without the ability to ever fully wake up. It is stuck in that first moment of existence because it may well have been the first thing to ever exist and it's been trapped in the shapeless nightmare of an infant since the dawn of time

THAT is how you make a god about the horror of the unknown. A god that is antagonistic to us because it is sacred of us, and it is scared because it has no way of knowing us, knowing the reality it inhabits beyond its own fear.

Adventure Hooks:

The greatest threat Tharizdun presents to most beings in the universe is having a nightmare about them. Through the inexplicable paths of sleep an individual's mind may find themselves connected to the entity's own... receiving terrible visions as the thinking clouds of Tharizdun's body churn in a variable brainstorm. Some aspect of this communion will be twisted into something terrible, birthed into the cosmos with the same shrieking fear and confusion that inspired its creation. Some desperate few seek out this communion, thinking in their hubris that they can give shape to Tharizdun's creation, that the terror beyond time suffers collaborators or requests. (Yes, I'm yoinking the dream-spawning ability of beholders. They were already weird enough before they started getting involved with dream stuff)

Despite being a living entity, Tharizdun is also a place, a plane unto itself streaking through the multiverse like a collossal ameoba through the primordial soup. There are landscapes within the god, whole continents that form and erode through seasons of surreality as the paroxyc titan dreams them into being. One can create portals into these landscapes, even fly a jammership across them, but the act of doing so invites an even more chaotic backlash than visiting the chained oblivion in dreams, letting its terror leak out into the waking worlds.

The name "chained oblivion" dates back to an eon when forces of celestial order attempted to keep Tharizdun contained in the hopes of preventing the escape of its creations or its contact with other minds. This period of the multiverse oft refereed to as the "Time of Quiet" sadly came to an end when the entity's bindings were shattered by a collective of villains and horrors today refereed to as the "Court of Fools" or "Troupe of the Final Void". The Troupe are a motley bunch, unable to agree on a theology but all wanting to pick at the slumbering titan like it was a scab on the skin of heaven. Some serenade Tharzidun with cacophonous music, others hurl saints and sacrifices into its body, some worship or hunt the god's offspring while others stab it with cosmic pokers, just to get a reaction. They want to wake the chained oblivion and don't care how much of the multiverse they have to burn to do it.

Like a mollusc producing pearls as a means of containing an irritating bit of grit, Tharizdun's roiling cosmic body will occasionally spit out an entire world or strange demiplanes as a means of dislodging something it could not pallet. While this has been the genesis of many realms both beautiful and terrible throughout the astral timeline, of late all these worlds worth taking have been colonized by the Troupe. Woe and pity to any mortal who calls such a world home, ruled over by tyrants who care only for destruction, unaware of a cosmos not coloured by Tharizdun's wake.

Titles: The chained oblivion, the spiraling titan, sire of stars, the Paroxsmal god, Lord of all Hysterics.

Signs: Stormclouds that look oily and churn with otherworldly light, formless nightmares and pervasive sleep paralysis, mass delusion, darkness that echoes with the god's muttering and the sound of distant flutes.

Worshippers: Ad hoc worship of Tharizdun tends to congregate around those who have received unwanted visions of the chained oblivion, as the harrowing experiance often bestows those that suffer it with an otherworldy weight to their words, to say nothing of occasional psychic powers. Many abberations likewise pay heed to the chained oblivion, either for directly giving them life or for its great and insuppressable power. Among these include Grell who refer to Tharizdun as "storm mother", The nightmarish Quori follow in the wake of the god's psychic emanations and make up a large faction of the court of fools, and the Kaorti, terrifying mage-things remade by exposure to the spiralling titan's heart who claim to be heralds for the entity.

Art

#monsters reimagined #outergod #tharizdun #lovecraftian #outer spheres #astral #kaorti #quori #far realm #planescape #spelljammer

[greens-saline-solution]

Could you possibly do a Kyle Broflovski X catholic reader fluff? Where Readers parents don’t approve of the relationship because of religion and forbid the reader to see Kyle. However, They both still find a way to see each other. I know my writing is really confusing 😭 so no worries if you can’t do it.

Meeting the Parents

Note: I used to be Christian but was never Catholic so I’m sorry if I got anything wrong about being Catholic. You’re an adult so it's not like the parents can do much to forbid the reader from seeing someone, so I tried my best with it.

Warnings: parents disowning you

Gender: female

Relationship: established romantic

“I think I’m ready for you to meet my parents,” you say in a confident voice, but deep down you were scared of how your parents would react to you dating a Jewish boy. You know in their perfect world you would be dating a white, blonde, blue-eyed Catholic boy. “Awesome! I think I’m ready for you to meet mine as well,” you smile, you were excited to meet his parents, but also scared they wouldn’t approve either. You thought you needed to warn Kyle about your parents, knowing how they were. “My parents can be pretty scary, they are devout Catholics and I don’t know if they’ll approve of us dating… but we’re adults we can do what we want.”

“Oh, my parents are probably cool with us, if that makes you feel any better,” Kyle says, starting to stroke your back, “And if they do not approve of us, who cares, we’ll still see each other somehow.” You smile up at him, he was always so good at reassuring you that your worries won’t be as bad as you make them out to be. Kyle leans down and kisses you in the wooded area with a big rock you two claimed to be ‘your spot’. After he pulled away you two started texting your parents and set up good times to meet with them.

First, you and Kyle went to his parent’s house. You walked in and they greeted you with such kindness and then you all sat down and got to know each other. They were so happy Kyle had found a nice girl, they didn’t mind you two being different religions, especially because you weren’t too fond of yours. “Yeah, my parents were always super strict and I hated waking up early on Sundays to go to a mass that went on for what seemed like forever,” you said before they started telling you about Judaism. “Mom, it's not like she's gonna convert to it right now, or even ever, so she doesn’t need to know everything about it,” Kyle says starting to get a little embarrassed. “Oh, sorry honey, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I was trying to convert you,” Sheila says. “Oh no, no you’re fine,” you say not wanting her to feel bad.

Soon enough you had to get back home for your work tomorrow. Kyle excused you two from his parent’s house, but not leaving before Sheila gives you both of you hugs. You two got into Kyle’s car and Kyle turned on the car and started pulling out of the driveway. “So, that went really well, huh, Kyle,” “Yea, they really seemed to like you, so I don’t think they have any problems with us being together.” “It’s good we got the easy one out of the way first, I apologize in advance, but I really don’t know how my parents will be,” you say, preparing yourself for the worst with them.

Two days later you meet up with Kyle at his house. For the past two days, you had been extremely anxiety-ridden thinking of all the things that could go wrong when Kyle meets your parents. You knocked and Kyle answered the door, you went right in for a hug. Kyle hugs you back but you hold him so tight and say “No matter what my parents say, I want to stay with you, just so you know, they might not approve of us having different religions.” “I want to stay with you too, no matter what they say we’re adults and can make our own decisions to stay together,” Kyle says, petting your hair and giving you a  kiss on your head.

You knock on your parent's door, hand a little shaky, Kyle notices and says “It’ll be fine, sweetie, we can get through this.” Your mom opens the door and greets you with “Y/N!” and a big hug. Your father, behind her, says “Hello you two, I’m Daniel and this is Jane, come on in.” Your mother lets go of your hug and you and Kyle walk in. You all start talking when you get to the topic of religion, “I presume you’re Catholic too, Kyle,” your father says starting to talk about your priest. “Oh, no-” Kyle interrupts him, “I’m actually Jewish.” Your father immediately shuts up and looks at you along with your mother. “Oh god, here we go,” you say in your mind. “y/n, a word please?” your mother says in a sweet tone as she starts to get up along with your father.

You get up, looking back at Kyle with an ‘I’m sorry’ look, and start walking with them to the Kitchen, leaving Kyle alone in the living room, twiddling his thumbs. “What in the h-e-double hockey sticks do you think you’re doing bringing someone like that in here young lady!” your mom quietly scolds you. “How many times have we told you that you are supposed to date and marry a Catholic boy?” your dad whisper yelling at you. “You have to break up with him right now. You are not allowed to see him again.” “Mom, Dad, I’m an adult, I can make my own choices,” your parents begin demanding you stop seeing him, and how you need to break up with him.

“Come on Kyle, let's get out of here,” you say angrily, picking up your coat and purse. Kyle assumed what had gone down in there was not good by your tone of voice. It was confirmed when your father shouts out “Don’t come back until you come to your senses!” as you walk out the door. You start quietly muttering about how they were so unfair and so ridiculous. You get in your car and start bawling your eyes out. Kyle gets in and starts rubbing your back, “It’s okay, y/n, they can’t control us.” “I have to find a new church, as long as I stay with you they don’t wanna see me at all, and I don’t want to leave you,” you look at him with doe eyes. “Oh, y/n, we’ll get through this,” Kyle says as he goes in to hug you. You appreciate the embrace, starting your car after. You speed out of your parent’s driveway and neighborhood. Instead of going home, you drive to the park where your guys’ spot was.

You two get to the rock in the middle of the woods, hop on, and lay down together looking at the stars and cuddling. You curl into Kyle’s side, still lightly crying, and hold him tight. You loved your parents, but you also loved Kyle, you were so mad that your parent’s just immediately frowned upon him just because he was Jewish. You also couldn’t go to the church you had gone to your entire life, you didn’t want to stop going to church though so that meant you had to look for a new one, which scared and intimidated you, but you knew that god would give you the courage to get through this. 

You turned your head to the sky, closed your eyes, and started a prayer. You praised god before you thanked him for what you had, and how your parents cutting you off wouldn’t hurt you financially nowadays. You then explain your dilemma, how you were dating a Jewish man and there was nothing against it in the bible, but your parents disapproved of it and were getting you out of their lives as long as you were to stay with him. You asked for help being able to stay with Kyle and keep a relationship with your parents, or at least guidance in finding a new church and becoming completely independent. You finish with an amen and open your eyes looking up at all the bright, beautiful stars. You sniffle and look up to Kyle, “I love you so much I hope you know, I’m so sorry about my parents being so insensitive about your religion and how closed off they are,” you say. “I love you no matter what challenge life would give us.”

#south park x reader #south park x you #south park x y/n #kyle broflovski #kyle x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski x y/n #kyle broflovski x you #green answers! #greens anons

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

hi mara,

i was wondering what your favorite books are, anything you've derived inspiration from. or any books you'd recommend to others!

take care

hi anonymous, good morning;

soft promotion but i usually write a little about what i:m currently reading in my end-of-month internet-sin paywall posts on substack -- but i:d also probably just tell you if asked;

any-ways, when i was really young i:d try to read a book-a-day both because 1) i had absolutely nothing to do 2) i thought that by reading as many classic/erudite texts as i could, that i:d become super smart; but i burnt out on reading because of these two things! and because of being burnt out, i have a huuuuuuuge amount of gratitude to the book version of "howl:s moving castle," because i think i picked it up on a whim (before the movie was out, even, i think), and read it, and it just made me fall in love with reading -- and the idea of reading for pleasure, instead of trying to make myself smart and cultured. was just so enamored with that book; read it through every period in HS and in that huge dullness i:d have afterschool (i slept out in a car from 2~7 typically; no friends and no where to go)--just couldn:t put it down, felt so real. zero idea if it holds up, and i refuse to re-read it, but i /loved/ that book and it:s always what comes to mind when someone asks me my favorite book (side-note: i thought the movie was trash; i don:t like ghibli stuff though).

inspirational stuff, though, i:ll use more recent examples! (mostly because it:s easier to remember this stuff); i really adore flannery o'connor and her short-story "the lame shall enter first" largely helped me deal with some of my obsessiveness at adhering to my behavioral etiquette 'perfectly' -- there are these two characters: an older atheist who is doing his very best to behave perfectly and empathetically and understandingly; & a crippled thieving rude christian boy that has fallen into the care of the prior character; any-who, the christian boy admits he has not been saved and that his soul belongs to satan, and tells the adult that he won:t bother being saved till he is ready to live whole-heartedly clean -- and that there is no point in attempting to act perfect (as the adult were trying) as no-one is perfect except christ; the story illustrates the lesson better, but it just made me loosen up on some of my behavioral rules and etiquette in regards to bacterial will and religious law. plus, flannery is a /beautiful/ writer.

then more briefly, i:d toss in cormac and shirley jackson -- cormac:s "outer dark" just really impressed me with how excellent he describes environments and just how /real/ he wrote "the three figures" towards the later half of that story, i love the outer dark so much; shirley jackson, too, just this month i read "we have always lived in the castle" and the maturity of her writers voice just struck me with how concisely bitter it were, and i just thought: wow, this is like the prototypical femcel hiki blueprint, and wow: this story is like the deconstructed magical girl genre before it ever existed, and as it could only exist in the mind of a shut-in agoraphobic american woman in her sixties (i think she was that old at the time of writing, i forget). i:m reading "the secret history" atm and also really loving that, because donna tartt is ace at pacing a story & capturing the feeling of "being left at a dorm for winter alone," and just scene/moments in general -- just super enjoying it :-)). then for more religious stuff that:d make people groan: i like LRH, and mary eddy baker, and ellen g white, and like reading all of them, and usually am left with a sparkling feeling after reading any.

and that:s it! i don:t want to name too many books because it:d water stuff down in meaning. take care, anonymous :-))

[scary-white]

What are your favorite Carrie fics?

Here ya go, anon. I made a post like this a couple years ago, but it needed an update. This features some shameless self-promos. Sorry, not sorry. ❤️

Fix-its:

All You Ever Wanted to Find by boyscoutpaladin

Sue is totally fine with the idea of missing her senior prom. That is, until Tommy comes to her with an idea: both of them should take Carrie White to the prom.

Saving Grace by scary_white

Sue Snell is a bit more determined to help Carrie after the events of the prom, and isn't so willing to let her go down without a fight-- Or to let her go down at all. As long as Sue has anything to say about it, Carrie White is going to live.

enjoy life right now (as long as you can breathe) by @homosandhomies

Enjoying life is not sinful.

Fix-it of Sorts:

Upper Cut by palletesofrenaissance

I always wondered what a different ending would be like, and due to a restless night I wrote this down. Ideas thought about include: In today's time, would everyone have laughed at Carrie at prom or would they have more sympathy? How big of a destruction would have happened as a result? What if Sue had called out and Tommy moved out the way? What about the additional use of technology? How would Sue's teen pregnancy reveal go over with her parents? A sort of "fix-it" with a semi-happy ending because I was curious and I wanted to, plus this year has been scary enough.

Three Body Problem by Tamoline

After being banned from Prom, Chris decides to yell at Carrie from Billy's car. This starts a chain of events which sends things spinning down a very different path.

Sue/Carrie:

After Party by bread_bird

There was a dead girl in the passenger seat of Sue Snell’s car. Or, in the wake of the Black Prom, Sue and Carrie get the hell out of dodge and make a new life for themselves. Together.

wondrous miracles for our ancestors, in those days, at this moment by @homosandhomies

Carrie celebrates Hanukkah with Sue and her family.

the ties that bind by janie_tangerine

She’ll have to deal with the fact that Carrie White is her soulmate later, because Chris Hargensen is still throwing the damned tampons at her and the entire room is screaming plug it up and she’s there standing and unable to move and feeling like she’ll throw up and Carrie’s voice goes into a shriek as she screams help me all over again and fuck, it’s obviously period blood and it makes no sense she'd react like this but she is and it’s mixing with too much blood that no one else can see apparently — “Christ,” she shouts, shoving whoever was in between the two of them out of the way, then glares at Chris Hargensen, who at least shuts up — out of surprise, most probably, but better than nothing. “What the hell is wrong with you all?”

Homecoming Queens by scary_white

In a universe where Sue befriends Carrie rather than having Tommy take her to prom, things fold out very differently.

Horror:

Reunion by Scioscribe

Sue hears stories about Carrie White

The Monster in the Lake by Scioscribe

It's a hot June morning at Christian Youth Camp, and the lake is as warm as blood.

Sweet Sweet Vengeance (Sweet Sweet Irony) by scary_white

Sue Snell is present at prom when Chris Hargensen plays her nasty trick on Carrie White. Stricken by the loss of her boyfriend, Sue follows Carrie out of the gym before she can come back for the carnage. When they see Chris and her boyfriend pull speeding out of the parking lot, Carrie gets an idea and the two embark on a mission for sweet revenge.

#carrie stephen king #carrie white #carrie #carrie the musical #carrie 1976 #carrie 2002 #carrie 2013 #asks #fanfiction #carrie fanfic

[fitzrove]

Hi, Fitzrove, I wanted to ask you, since you've been to the Perman Production of JCS; could you please tell a bit more about your opinion of the staging (strengths/weaknesses)?

I like your analyses of Elisabeth and would like to hear your opinion on JCS too :)

(On a sidenote - it's been a while since I've seen it - why is Mark cradling Oedo after the torture scene? 👀 I kind of didn't remember Pilates having a moment with Jesus there)

Hii!! Thanks for asking!

Omg disclaimer - my analysis is NOT going to be very good, this is the first JCS production I have ever seen and I first listened to any cast recording (the 2005 one) two hours before going to see it 😂😭

I think strong parts were: costuming (it's a concert but if the budget is limited I'd argue that nice simple "modern" costumes can look better than cheap historical costumes. Loved Marjan in a long flowy red dress, Oedo in all white - with a bloody crucifix shirt at the end - and the priests in black. Only one I'm not sure about is T-shirt mark, that was just kind of weird and was not giving much Pilate...), the torture scene w Oedo standing on a table and being pulled w strings on each arm (the table was like. the only setpiece but worked well esp with his acting), and the way the ensemble used the entire stage space during choreographies etc., and how soloists walked up and down the stage if necessary etc. The only thing that stood out to me as weird was the entire cast sitting down around the table at the beginning/prologue in the last supper position, like just chilling in the background while it was happening, that was a bit weird and awkward to me, like them just Being There not doing anything akdkfkfk.

And with the torture scene - the cradling part is during these lines:

And I thought it was very well done, it could've been more homoerotic though DJKFKFKF but I think it still worked! Was grateful that Mark actually remembered to act during that part 😅😁

Sorry I think this is a very bad reply 😅😁 I simply don't have a lot to compare to since I've only seen this one staging, and I was also struggling to remember what happens next because I'm not a Christian (I mean I am culturally but I left the church as a kid due to lack of belief, and haven't been to church or bible story lessons since age 11...) 😂😭. But overall I think it was an effectively staged concert version, there's no weird random choices happening like in some other concert productions we shan't speak of...

#its always embarrassing when ppl ask me for opinions and i don't know 😭 #my irl friend is pestering me about munich enjolras and i havent replied for like 3 days because??? idk he was ok i'm not really a big #enjolras girlie 😭😭😭 like i think he did very well but i do not have encyclopedic knowledge of enjolras characterisations #😂 still thanks for asking 😌 i'm glad to get the chance to criticise t shirt mark #😂😭 #asks

[mochiswifey]

LETTING HIM GO

TAIJU SHIBA

CW: HARDCORE ANGST*SUICIDE*CHEATING*REPOST FROM OTHER ACCOUNT

I have loved him for a very long time. As much as it pains me to admit he’s something that I’ve always wanted. I chuckled bitterly as I sip on my whiskey. I was never the margarita girl he prefers. He likes small obedient girls who call him daddy as he fucks them hard. I could say that he ruined me. The loud music blasting through the clubs speakers was enough to make the dopamine in my brain reach its highest level years before I met him but now it means nothing to me. My friends tried to make me dance like I used to. Tried to make me reckless like I used to. But the motherfucker Taiju Shiba changed me. The moment I sat beside him was the moment I fell madly in love with him. I loved the way his nose was created and I love how tall and manly he was. I love the way he laughs and the way he contradicts everything the teacher said about Christianity. I love the way he knows about Christianity. I love the way the sunlight hits his gorgeous well-sculpted face. And I…. 

I love him. 

I was too blinded for my love for him that I begged my father to give his men weapons, money and to support him no matter what. To make him the king of all the fucking gangs here in Japan. I was too in love with him that I turned blind whenever he fucks girls. Every mistake he makes disappears whenever his soft lips touches mine. I forget everything he does wrong when his hard blood covered hands grips on my waist as he takes his release. Everything fades and all that matters is him and I when he’s on top of my body fucking me hard even though he was never in love with me like I am to him. I’ve always knew that he only saw me as a tool to pave his way to the top. But to me. 

He is my will to live. And I hated it. It would’ve been better if he had only been my addiction. 

His eyes strikes fear to many people. But to me it’s the most beautiful ocean I’ve ever seen. So deep and yet to be discovered. I’ve always loved oceans and I’ve always thought that the most beautiful ocean was the one in Maldives but I was so wrong. I wanted to be the one to discovered it but sadly I was not destined to be his discoverer. 

I smile softly as I place my glass down to the table. It’s 11pm and he’s not gonna be home until gods know when. I stood up and left the VIP room and headed to my car. I’ve lost every hope now that he has fallen in love with one of his whores. Tears fills my eyes as I remember the way his eyes lights up when he talks to her. I wasn’t supposed to drive drunk but I no longer care. It didn’t take me long to arrive at my house. He never called it his because the only reason he lived with me is because he’s obligated to. 

I went to our room and took out the painting of him I drew earlier this week. I touch it admiring his beauty. The beauty only I wanted to be mine. I took off my hoodie and cargo pants and folded it before placing it on the top of the washing machine on my laundry room. I wanted to be enough for him but I guess it’s my fault for not being able to wear girlie dresses for him. And for not being able to act girlie for him. I took a long hot shower and made sure to scrubbed my body hard that my skin almost bled. I also made sure that I smell good like vanilla. He loves that smell. I dried my hair and curled it then put it into a bun decorating my head with gold flower clips. I then wore a white dress from Dior a gift from my father. I look at the mirror and admired myself. I knew that this will never be enough for him. But it’s enough for me. I went to sit on our bed with the bottle of sleeping pills on my right hand and my phone on the left. I dialed his number and miraculously he answered on the seventh ring. 

“What the hell do you want!?” His annoyed and angry voice echoed. I chuckled wiping the tears on my eyes.

“I know that you hate me but all I want to say is I love you. I love you and I will love you even in the next life and I forgive you for cheating on me even though we are married. And I’m glad you found your happiness. She’s a very beautiful girl and all I wish for you is to be happy Taiju. I love you and even…” I stopped tears drips from eyes down to my right hand directly to the ring he hesitantly gave me. I smile through my tears as I remember how happy I was when he put it on my finger. 

“I love you enough to let you go. You’re free. I’m sorry for caging you for too long.”

I ended the call and I blocked his number. I know that he won’t call back but I needed to do that. A strange closure for me. I place my phone to the night stand and popped all of the sleeping pills to my hand. I look at it and smiled. Everything will be fine now. Whenever I sleep a different Taiju holds me. Whenever I’m asleep the Taiju that holds me has his eyes only for me. His eyes lights up whenever he sets them on me. I walk to the old cassette player and played the song we dance to on our wedding 3 years ago. I then took a final look on the painting I drew before lying down on the center of the bed. 

“If only I could see the ocean I’ve always loved one more time.” 

You were not insane. You were blinded by love but you weren’t delusional. You knew that, after you do what you’re planning to do you will not see him again. You knew that the Taiju that held you in your dreams won’t meet you but you convinced yourself that he will because it’s the only way you were able to push yourself to go through this. You’ve loved him even though he inflicted pain to you but you cannot bear to see him with other women anymore. You love him so much that it no longer feels like a stab in the heart when you see him smile at the woman who caught his heart. It only feels empty. Like an isolated dark room far away from any lights and far away from any sounds. You hated that more than anything. You want him to come and save you. To take you away from that room but you know he will never come. 

Tears drips from your eyes as you swallowed all the pills. Your heart sank as you try to bury his images with the girl he fell in love with. You took off the ring you’ve always showed off to people telling them that you’re proud to be his wife. You carefully placed it to the nightstand beside the wedding photo of the two of you. You went back to your original position before the pills kicks in. You then see a faint picture of you and him and a child you’ve never had. The three of you are at the beach playing together happily. No pain only blissful smiles. 

You smiled as blood comes out from your nose relief that the pain will be soon gone. For the first time in your life you were happy truly happy. You freed him. And most importantly you freed yourself from him. 

You calmly sing along with the song even though excruciating pain kicks in your stomach. You started throwing up blood but tried your best to remain in your position. You didn’t stop singing until the songs started to fade from your hearing and your eyes started to close slowly. Your body went numb but before you could fully close your eyes you see a glimpse of the ocean you’ve always loved. You smiled as relief washes over you. 

PART 2 

The truth is that. He loved her like she did. But he hated himself for not being able to hold her like he wanted to. He was scared of loving her. His love resulted to violence and his siblings hated him for that. He didn’t want her to hate him but she loved him too much. He thought that the only way out of loving her is by destroying her. So he wanted her to believe that she meant nothing to him and that he’s fallen deeply in love with someone who isn’t her. 

“Wake up. Don’t pull this fucking prank on me. You’re wasting my time.” He said coldly as he shakes his wife’s lifeless body on his arm. She didn’t respond and the warmth from her body that he secretly loves is slowly fading away. 

“Fucking hell! Stop this prank.” He yelled as he taps on his wife’s bloodied cheek. He bit his lips as his heart sank. Tears slowly form in his eyes. 

“Please don’t pull this prank on me.” For the first time he softly whispered to his wife. He pulls her body closer to his and kissed her forehead. 

“Please…” He whispers again. He waited for her to laugh. To annoy him like she used to do. To make him angry. But as time passes the harsh reality is knocking on him. 

“Wake up. We’re going out tomorrow. You said you wanted to go to the ocean with me right? I know you love summer and that you love oceans. I’m sorry I couldn’t take you but I will. I will take you wherever you want to go. Just please open your eyes and smile at me like you used to.” He begged and begged to no avail. 

“I’m sorry for not treating you the way I am supposed to. But please open your eyes and try to hold my hand and I swear I will never pull my hands away ever again.” He kissed his wife’s lips not minding the blood covering it. But his heart only sank deeper when he realized it didn’t held the warmth he knows well. 

“Baby, you look beautiful tonight. I love how you dressed and how you decorated your hair. Open your eyes and we will eat at my restaurant together huh? And we’re not going to eat at my office we’re going to eat outside where people could see us! You like showing me off right? My attention will only be yours! I know you love when I hold you right? I will always hold you and I will always make you laugh!” He chuckled through his tears as he softly caresses her blood covered face waiting for her to respond. He tried and tried hours have passed but he couldn’t accept the reality in front of him. 

She didn’t wore fancy clothes and she acted like a man and goofed around not caring about anyone but him. She laughed loudly and always made her friends and even him secretively laugh by either making stupid jokes or roasting people she didn’t like. She always made sure she was the light to the people she loved. She also smiled at him and loved him despite for who he is. Tears dribbles from his eyes as he admires the woman who loved him so much. It’s been years since the first time they’ve met but her face still resembles the girl on high school who always offered him bread for no particular reason other than that she’s worried he’s not eating enough. The girl who followed him around like a lost puppy annoying him. The girl who shamelessly screamed his name cheering for him as he runs on their sports festival. The girl that always asked him if he needed any help on any subject. But most importantly the girl that loved him through every pain he went through. 

“I love you.” He whispered softly to her as he clings on tightly to the woman he lost. 

Thank you for reading. Replies and Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#taiju x you #shiba taiju #taiju smut #taiju shiba #tokyo revengers #tokyorev #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyorev smut #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers sanzu #ran headcanons #taiju x reader #tokrev taiju #tokyorev kokonoi #bonten #sanzu bonten #bonten angst #mikey bonten #bonten takeomi #rindou haitani #sanzu haruchiyo #tokrev #ran #haitani ran imagines #ran scenarios #ran angst #ran haitani #tokyorev ran