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yoonnamjin25 · 11 months

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Is it really accurate to use the word "selfless" to describe Merlin?

"Selfless" is a word with an undeniable good "white" connotation and when it comes to Merlin, I don't think we can say something is black or white in its entirety. So this question is kind of tricky and, honestly, far too complicated to answer it with a simple and short yes or no.

Let me elaborate.

He was not selfish when it came to himself as a person —that part is right— as he never hesitated in giving his life for others, always helped his friends no matter what, never seeked power nor recognition for himself, etc.

But I do think he was selfish, extremely so at times, when it came to his own self-interests. The main one being Arthur's safety and wellbeing.

And why do I say this? Let's go back to memory lane and remember some of his decisions throughout the show!

1. He condemned (heartbrokenly, I'll give him that) his whole kin to continue living in the shadows and most probably to be executed if they were caught practicing magic in Camelot just so Mordred could die and Arthur could live by extension.

2. Talking about Mordred, he never gave him the chance to prove himself trustworthy and loyal to Arthur, he just decided he was evil since he saw he was destined to kill his friend instead of trying to change that outcome or understand where would that could come from.

3. He lied to Arthur about himself and what he was for the whole decade they knew each other so Arthur wouldn't feel bad for choosing him over his father when he found out about his magic. Or viceversa.

4. He always put Arthur's life before any other's, including his closest friends: remember when he repeatedly tried to talk Arthur out of going to save them from Morgana because he was worried about him as the druid seer showed him he was going to be killed by a man aka Mordred?

5. He lied to Arthur about his mother and what Uther did to conceive him (he also robbed him that unique and beautiful moment he shared with his mom), something he had all the right to know, so Arthur wouldn't kill Uther and hate himself for it for the rest of his life.

6. He took Arthur's free will away from him so he would agree to everything Merlin said and he could take him out of the castle and save his life when Morgana and Agravaine attacked.

And I could go on, honestly, but I won't because I fear some people might take this as a hating post towards Merlin, which it definitely is not lol. Quite the contrary, actually! I understand and, to a certain point even love, all the decisions Merlin took because it just proved the inmensity of his love for Arthur.

So if I mention all this is because, despite having honorable goals —as saving someone's life (Arthur's) or sparing them the possibility of feeling irrevocably guilty for taking a life-altering decision when their heads were clouded by anger, sadness and fear— the means he used to do all that were highly questionable to say the least: lies, deceiving, manipulation, mind-control and so on are, in no way, justifiable.

They are just not.

But we fans decide to brush those aside and accept them because we understand that it all came out from a place of love. Pure, huge, raw and unwavering love. Although, that still doesn't make it right. Not really.

I will dare to say it actually makes it worse.

Love is a complicated and, may I say, dangerous feeling. It can make us feel happier, confident with oursleves, adventurous and giddy. But it can also make us stupid, blind and selfish.

And that's exactly what it did to Merlin.

He came to a point where he stopped caring about his destiny and focused only on saving Arthur's life, others be damned, just because he loved him too much and he couldn't bare to lose him.

And unfortunately at the end, it was that love, and the King's complete and blind trust in Merlin, that got Arthur dead.

To sum it up, I don't think there's a better way to describe Merlin than to say he was a whole spectrum of greys. A constant paradox of selflessness and selfishness. Another victim of love.

Anyway, he was far from perfect but that's exactly why I love him! He could come as the most selfless person at first glance (and to a certain degree, he was; although I think the word sacrificial suits him even better) but if you really look at it, specially from a canon era outsider POV, he could rather come as a selfish, powerful man that wouldn't hesitate in destroying you if it means he can save Arthur's life with that.

He was truly unhinged when it came to his other half and that's exactly why he's my second most favorite fictional character ever created!

**The first one being Dean Winchester, another unhinged man that couldn't live without his baby brother and would burn the whole world willingly only to keep Sammy safe!

Huh.

Now that I think about it.

Maybe I have a type?

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webbywatcheshorror · 5 months

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Saw (2004)

You (probably) know what Saw is. On the slim chance you're one of today's lucky 10,000 who doesn't, it's a movie about a serial killer who puts his victims in deadly traps in order to teach them a lesson about valuing their lives, asking them what acts of violence or self-harm would they commit to keep themselves or their loved ones alive?

I won't lie to you. Saw is one of my favorite movies of all time, above almost all others. I've mentioned on a few other reviews how much I loved them, how much they influenced me, but this one blows them all away. It came out on video around when I was 15 or 16, and back then I hadn't had a lot of real experience with horror as a genre, but I thought I knew enough about it. And I didn't care much for it. (I used to be a huge wuss. I still am, but I used to be, too.)

Then my dad brought this movie home, and when I finally got around to watching it, I was entirely and irrevocably altered. Suddenly I realized that I knew absolute jack shit about horror. Its potential, the kinds of stories you could tell, the effects it can have on an audience. Without Saw, I would be an entirely different person, and I know how that sounds. I really do. But it's the truth.

Anyway, I said all that to impress upon you how very incredibly biased I am when it comes to this movie, so you can keep it in mind as we dive into more specific things during the review.

Another thing to keep in mind is that I am looking at this as a standalone film, and not the first of a franchise of films. (I might, sometime in the future, review the series as a whole, but not today.)

Review under the cut, and as always beasties and ghouls, SPOILERS ahead! (Yes. There are people who haven't seen this movie. Why they'd be reading this, I have no idea, but that's their business.)

Where do I even begin with Saw. I could talk for hours about it, the characters, the tragedy of it all, the in-universe details and the real life behind the scenes stuff. I am fully enamored with this film.

We'll start with the cinematography, since I'm not very knowledgeable on the topic and I'm less likely to ramble endlessly about it.

The scenes of the other victims in their traps, where it speeds up, really gives them a sense of mania, of panic. It really adds to the terror of the situation and gives these characters we get to see so briefly some needed characterization with the camera work alone. In fact, every time they do the choppy editing, it lends a feeling of tension that permeates the entire movie.

There's a scene, one of many, that has stuck with me these past 19 years, and it's the shot of little Diana Gordon sitting up in bed, half her bedroom shrouded in the darkness. On first watch, it's deeply unsettling, but even after you know who it is, it doesn't get any less fucking terrifying. One of my fears is the dark, not being able to see into a room or the entire room, because of scenes like this.

The characters. Good god, do I love the characters in Saw. They're complicated, flawed, neither good nor evil but a secret third thing: deeply human. (Except John Kramer, but we'll get to that.) They're all just People, trying to make it through the day, however they can. Adam, trying to pay his bills and keep himself fed by spying on people; Lawrence, dealing with the stress of being a doctor and a father who's lost his joie de vivre and decides to cheat on his wife about it; Tapp, wracked with guilt over losing his partner and letting Jigsaw escape, throwing everything he has into stalking the wrong man at the cost of his own health. The more we learn about these characters, the more fascinating they become to me.

Let's talk about John for a moment. More articulate people than I could tell you, in rich detail, about why he's not a savior, but I tend to just boil it down to this: you can't 'fix' people with trauma. I think John is evil, or close to it. Look at the people he chooses to punish- Paul, who cuts himself; Mark, who claims to be sick but is also seen out and about; Amanda, a drug addict. Paul could have depression or some other mental illness. Mark could have an illness that is only debilitating /some/ of the time. Amanda has an addiction problem. You know what would have actually helped them? A fucking support system. Some understanding. Not additional issues, JOHN.

John is, despite his tendency to target those already struggling, still an interesting person, as Zep says. He's also a hypocrite of the highest degree. Shaming Adam for being a voyeur, but drugging himself so he can lay in the middle of the bathroom floor for who even knows how many hours just so he can watch Adam and Lawrence fumble around? Pot meet kettle situation.

(I'm trying to keep this from becoming an entire-ass essay, I really am, but as I mentioned, I could do this all day.)

Adam and Lawrence's transformation throughout the movie is so intriguing to me. Lawrence, the logical Father Knows Best guy, used to always being the one in control of any given situation. Adam, low on the social ladder, prone to emotional outbursts, used to being kicked when he's down. By the end, they've become entirely different men.

Lawrence changes into an unthinking mess, acting on his out of control emotional state to an extreme degree, while Adam becomes a man who not only finally wants to live, but puts in the work to prove it, attacking Zep and killing him, with the kind of determination he hadn't shown until that moment.

The twist is still just so good. It was mind blowing then, and it's a great story beat today, almost 20 years later. When John sits up, Hello Zep playing in the background... it still gives me chills. To think of how Adam must feel, alone in a room with nothing but the dead for company, waiting on the promise of a severely injured man, thinking it's finally over.

Adam's screaming into the darkness breaks me a little, I won't lie. The horror of his situation finally overcomes him and all he can do is scream. That sound is burned into my brain, possibly for life. Then, the credits roll, with the calmness of the credits, Adam's cries still echoing before the quiet music begins to play, and the audience is left stunned. No relief for us, no relief for Adam.

In the years before the sequels, there was so much talk among my friends and I about what could have happened afterwards. Did Lawrence make it out? Did Jigsaw ever get caught? Did Adam die alone in that grimy bathroom? I used to make up possibilities in my head about ways Adam could be saved.

You see, I've always identified with Adam. Struggling to keep going, feeling outcast, chained in a place we didn't want to be, having to rely on others for help getting out, dismissed as juvenile, clinging to people that hate us because it's better than being alone, and wasting our lives because we weren't living them the way others thought we should, regardless of WHY. I had always hoped he made it out. Maybe in some other reality he does.

Anyway enough about that, let's move on. One thing of many I love about this movie is how it makes you think, really think, about what you would do if this happened to you. Would you, could you, crawl through a cage of razor wire to save yourself? Could you kill the family of a co-worker to save your own skin? Could you maim or dismember yourself?

There's an excellent podcast, Jigsquad Pod, that talks about this next point, but I have to mention it also. Jigsaw feels like a boogeyman figure. He sees your every sin. He judges you, then takes you from your place of safety- your house, on the way home from work, and punishes you. It can happen to anyone, anywhere. He can't be caught, can't be killed. He's a phantom. I love that feeling in this movie, the almost campfire story of it all, the way you might tell it to your friends in hushed voices at a sleepover.

I give Saw X ghosts outta ten. It may not be the movie James Wan and Leigh Whannell set out to make, it may have been rushed and stitched together out of all the footage they had and then some, but it's a masterpiece in my heart. It changed me, in hundred of ways I can't begin to understand, but I'm glad it did. (Not all of those ways are for the better, probably. I mean, I did spend several hours once, thinking up- in detail- what my personal Saw trap would be.)

As much as I love the entire franchise overall, cop-centric soap opera that it is, if it had stopped at just this one, I'd still be satisfied. I hope it never gets a remake, because there's no way it could ever be made more perfectly than it already is, flaws and all.

#saw #saw movies #webbywatcheshorror #webbyreviewshorror #horror movie #movie review #leigh whannell #james wan #cary elwes #shawnee smith #danny glover #michael emerson #saw franchise

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ablazenqueen · 1 year

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Tagged by @dreamedofyou! Thank you!! :D

crying in the shower or making out in the shower (not even a competition) || give cute boy Line ID or stalk his IG || share his earbuds or share his closet (more intimate) || manga or manhwa (I read manga a lot when I was younger but in more recent years, it’s been mostly manhwa) || long dangly silver earring or dark leather cuff || time loop or reincarnation (Triage has irrevocably changed me) || blue engineering smock or red engineering smock (you will not make me choose between my boys) || kisses at the beach or kisses in the mountains (I just don’t like beaches) || cactus or chili plant (a BL classic) || fairy lights or spot lighting (prettier!) || ghost boyfriend or vampire lover (I prefer ghosts but usually they come with a sad ending so… kinda torn on this) || hard sub or soft sub (I’m a GIFer, soft subs are so much more convenient!) || stray cat or... actually, that's your only option (good because you’re right) || hawaiian shirt or blue shorts (not a huge fan of either but Hawaiian shirts have been growing on me) || evil ex-girlfriend or predatory fujoshi (neither, no) || suit jacket or leather jacket (absolutely love leather jackets, I own five) || high school or university (more mature, more relatable) || kitchen drama or office drama (COOKING SCENES MY BELOVED, although ironically I’ve enjoyed more office dramas than cooking dramas) || forehead kisses or cheek kisses (cheek kisses are cute as hell but forehead kisses make me want to cry) || Viki or GaGaOOLaLa (both and neither, I usually just use Dramacool) || Japanese arthouse depth or Korean high concept || pink milk or yakult (I’ve always wanted to try it) || censored Chinese BL or trashy Thai pulps (I’ve watched Thai, Korean, Japanese, Taiwanese, Vietnamese, Pinoy shows, but not a single Chinese one, and I’m not a huge fan of censored queer romances unless there’s a murder mystery involved) || body swap or dead body (body swaps are fun but nothing gets to me like a murder mystery) || sexy or story (easy choice) || back hugs or lap sitting (snuggles ❤️) || piggyback or cradle carry (I LOVE PIGGYBACKS

Tagging @mygeekcorner @wintercrushes @7nessasaryevils if you guys want!!

#thanks for the tag!#tag games #tropes

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twelvelemons · 6 months

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👾!!

!! Thanks @golden-heart-beats! Since you didn’t specify an oc I’m gonna choose at random, so here’s one from Flair’s playlist!

Community Gardens by The Scary Jokes

This song really symbolizes one of Flair’s lowest moments to me, the disillusionment he feels after the reveal of their powers’ origins. He wants very badly to believe in the potential for good in people, in love and kindness and freedom. In community gardens, metaphorically. But he’s been confronted with so much evil at this point, has literally been through hell, and has just learned that even his own powers - something which he’s only ever tried to use for what he thought was good - are born from a place of pain, torture and despair, and were always intended for evil ends. That he himself was built to bring about calamity. The world has been irrevocably scarred by mankind’s pride and folly, and all his striving for his ideals of has amounted to what now seems like nothing. It was all a part of someone else’s plan since the beginning. For the first time, Flair has begun to lose hope. The world is scarred, and there can be no more community gardens on scorched earth.

#thank you!!#oc: flair #pathfinder wotr #wotr commander #azata commander

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visions-in-gemini · 1 year

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About

name: Gol & Maia Acheron

pronouns: he/him (Gol), she/her (Maia)

age: 30's-40's (pre-corruption) & 50's (post corruption)

alignment: Chaotic Neutral [pre-corruption], Lawful Evil [post corruption]

Myers–Briggs: INTJ-A the Architect (Gol), ISTJ-T the Logistician (Maia)

hair color: blonde to red ombre, silvering from eco

eye color: garnet red

height/weight: 6'2/160lbs (Gol), 6'3"/280lbs (Maia) [pre-corruption], 6'0/120lbs (Gol), 6'1"/130lbs (Maia) [post corruption]

occupation: sages, scholars, engineers, guides

residence: the Precursor Citadel

powers/abilities:

Eco Mastery: Eco channeling is a lot like most basic magic skills, and in the case of a master Sage, these powers include levitation, focused blasts of Eco, the ability to absorb Eco, formation of crystal foci, and Ecokinesis. Dark Eco also grants the unique power of transmutation and transformation. Both twins are capable of channeling and absorbing all colors of Eco, but specialize in Dark.

Engineering: Both twins are skilled in using and building Precursor tech, but it's more Maia's field. She is a master blacksmith and engineer when it comes to Precusor metal.

Alchemy: Both twins have knowledge pertaining to potion crafting, basic alchemy, and medicine, but it's more of Gol's field.

Piloting: Both twins have basic education in the of piloting Prescursor mechs, vehicles, and machinery.

Environmental Knowledge: The twins have basic to in-depth knowledge of most fauna, flora, and geology local to their area, especially in how they deal with Eco. Things like crystal formations, how animals are affected by Eco, and basic botany.

[Post Corruption verse] Eco Resistance: Fully corrupted by Dark Eco, neither twin experiences the more dramatic negative effects of full contact with the substance, such as: exploding.

limitations:

Gol and Maia both have normal basic physical weaknesses: fire hurt, not immune to fall damage, if you stab them it will hurt a lot, etc.

Gol has a physical disability and suffers chronic pain that requires him to use a cane often. He can walk without it for a while, but something like running is very difficult. He mitigates this with levitation as a mobility aid if he needs to and has the energy to do so.

[Post Corruption verse] Eco toxicity: Both Gol and Maia suffer from Dark Eco toxicity, though Gol's case is far more advanced. Symptoms include difficulty breathing, coughing, hemoptysis, weight loss, memory loss, muscle pain, atrophy, and eco discoloring the blood.

Short Bio (long bio here for tumblr page or here for googledocs):

[Pre-Corruption]

The twin Sages of Dark Eco. Born in Sandover as orphans, but having long since moved into Sagehood by their determination and teamwork, Gol and Maia are two very strong personalities to contend with all wrapped in one big package.

The twins always strove to not only make their mark, but explore the unexplored and push boundaries built from fear. Choosing the much feared, very dangerous, and in their opinion very misunderstood Dark Eco as the focus of their studies, they drew concern, caution, and sometimes ire from their fellows with not only their controversial work. Well, that and their constant flouting authority of the older Sages. But, despite their more prickly aspects, there is kindness, curiosity, and passion in them that the few who meet them get to see.

They mostly live on their own in the ancient ruins of a Precursor Citadel, keeping sparse contact with the rest of the world while they work. But that doesn't mean they don't welcome company if it's good or entertaining.

[Post Corruption]

However, something happened. Whether by accident, on purpose, or simply fate, Gol and Maia found themselves poisoned by the very substance they had devoted their lives to. Their minds and bodies forever and irrevocably changed, the two fell into a madness that led them to try and drown the world in a flood of Dark Eco.

Were it not for the actions of two young heroes, they may have actually done it. But instead, they ended up trapped in the cockpit of a broken Precursor robot at the bottom of a sealed Dark Eco silo, presumed dead.

But Dark Eco has a problem with letting go, and despite everyone's expectations, the Acheron twins still yet live. And when, or if, they ever find their way out, they have a lot of ill-will built up for those who put them there...

#;about the twins

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boytouya · 3 years

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𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘖𝘧 𝘈 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦

words:2.3k

WARNING: graphic depictions of violence, blood, angst, open ended/ambiguous ending, descriptions of death.

request: “Can i request sukuna x male reader. Where reader keeps reincarnating with each lifetime for a curse and every time he remembers sukuna, he dies after gaining memories back. You can choose if theres a good ending or angst. Thank you king! I fell in love with him especially after reading that one shot i had to watch jjk and hes hot! Thank you for turning me into a sukuna simp! Much love”

a/n: i went,,,overboard with this request 🗿 BUT IT'S ONE OF MY FAVORITESSIJEHSHE i’m honored to have introduced you to such a foine man

When you were five, only then had you understood the curse deemed ‘Ryoumen Sukuna.’ A rather tall man with two heads, one of which had splattered blood onto your sneakers. You understood the concept of death, of course, but could never truly comprehend the feeling of nothingness after watching your life flash before your eyes until nineteen. But there you stood, clutching the loop of your shorts when you witnessed the murder of your entire village. You didn’t know evil could have a moral compass, but the tall curse seemed to exclude half of the women and children. After the widening of youthful eyes and curdling screams you learned the monster took likings to things too. Women, with shaking forms and broken spirits. He’d stop before them, stare at them with eyes that could- in fact- kill, if they truly wanted to. But then he stopped in front of you.

“Close your eyes, Brat.” Death's hands were just as large as your family painted them out to be, if not larger. Calloused and riddled with blood as they are placed over your ears. You do as he- it says, squeezing your eyes shut and enclosing your eyes behind the meat of your palms just to be extra careful. You can see stars behind your eyelids, just as you can feel the sickening twang of death lingering in the air. You were aware it would happen at some point, Death would find its place for you over and over and over again, you’d been told since the day you were born.

There’s another sound, only muted under large palms. You don’t need your sense of sight or hearing to know what it was, the warm chunks splattering onto your skin was enough. Immediately, you flinched. When you opened your eyes, there were piercing eyes staring straight into your own. It looked so human, but something was off. Uncanny, as if it took years to manipulate its flesh and bone to emulate humans to a T. But there was nothing human behind those eyes, instead a void of nothingness. Death itself. If Death could express interest, you’d have thought that was the expression it was imitating. It offers a hand, one of four. Larger than your face, with sharp claws that could almost be described as talons. Darkened by dirt and remains of your loved ones, if it truly wanted to kill you, it could. It could tear you limb from limb with the wave of a finger. And it knew that.

So you took the hand, and he became your second home.

When you were ten, you learned about the red string of fate. It could never be broken, and those connected by it would always reunite, no matter the circumstances. You often had nightmares, those of which filled with blurred faces and sharp pain that reached you in your lucid state. Dreams of talons, piercing eyes, and double headed monsters. You dreamt under the stars, tasted metal on your tongue, and choked on smoke that wasn’t actually there. You dreamt of facial markings, details that you couldn’t exactly place, a name that you couldn’t quite remember. It left your tongue feeling thick in your mouth, racked tremors through your body, and caused premature dark circles to accumulate under your eyes.

When you were nineteen, you experienced your last breath. The air was stolen from your lungs, crushed under years of heartbreak and terror, and snatched from you in the dead of night. Your eyes glazed over, and nothingness overtook you. It left you for someone else to find, cold and lifeless. A void, similar to the eyes you had finally placed. But that didn’t matter much then, you had already drifted away from your body.

And that was that.

Thus, the cycle repeated. Under different names, different ages, different genders. There was always something gnawing away at your conscience, you felt as though you were forgetting something. But when you finally remembered, it was too late. And there was nothing you could do about it.

It was almost like deja vu, stepping outside your home to find blood splattered on the concrete floor. It made your blood run cold, sent a tremor through your body and made you feel like you were five again. Small and defenseless. You take it as your best interest to go back inside before you pass out, but the second you whip your body around you meet something- someone?- large and sturdy.

“Sukuna.” That was it, the sour taste at the tip of your tongue, the lingering sensation at the back of your brain. Him. He didn’t look the same, no, much smaller with tufts of pink hair. There’s something behind his eyes this time, something almost irrevocably human. For some reason that’s much scarier than what you remember. What you think you remember. He’s much more human, but the way he looks at you is everything but humane. He looks frustrated, angry at something, as if he’ll implode any second and go on a rampage. Dread bubbles up in your stomach, nearly erupting through your mouth as bile. It felt as though something should be happening, like something usually happened when the itch went away. He chuckles, low in his throat as he cranes his neck to put his face uncomfortably close to your own. His hands, still large, find their way to your wrist, gripping your right hand uncomfortably tight. For a moment, you consider how long a trip to the hospital would be if he shattered the bone beneath his fingers. But instead there’s a jolt of electricity that would’ve had you yanking your hand back if he weren’t holding it.

“What? You look different.” He all but purrs, inspecting your palm with long nails. Not long enough to be talons, but longer than those of a claw. It was true, you did look different. He wondered if you spent your lifetimes looking exactly the same. That couldn’t have been possible, he would’ve found you much easier, then. Still quite boyish, as if the body you were in didn’t originally belong to you. Clearly grown out of cargo shorts and polos, much taller than you were before. There was no way he could have forgotten you, the way you jumped when the remains of your loved one splattered across your legs. The way you stared back at him with a look of acceptance, the way you grabbed his hand and allowed him to lead you out of the village. It explained the body memories perfectly, the feeling of large palms on your head and remnants of a brain splattering onto your knees.

“Last time I saw you,” He let’s go of your wrist with a bored expression, then replaces its spot with the top of your head. He shoves you down, and you make an effort to ignore the crack your knees make when they smack against the concrete. Then, he crouches down to stare you directly in the eye, just like he had the first time you met. His eyes were no longer dark, instead a deep shade of red that caught light from the moon. They reminded you of vials of blood. “You were this tall. Much cuter in this century.”

“And you were bigger.” Sukuna laughs as if hearing that was the funniest thing in the world. He leans his weight into you and uses you as a support beam, laughing until his ribs burn and beg for a break. But how could he laugh at a time like this? He didn’t think it was weird? He’s existed for centuries, murdered for millennias and only now has he seen you. That wasn’t how it worked, when you died, you died. But Sukuna was a walking oxymoron to that statement. When he died, if he died, he would return. He’d return through you, the last fragments of his soul would stay bound to yours until the end of time. Perhaps that’s how he knew, how he remembered. Perhaps that’s why he still took the time to find you, even after countless years of failure. It was peculiar, but not as much as being bound to Death himself. It was a sick game of turning the phrase ‘Til’ death do you part,’ because in your case it was literal.

“You’re still a brat.” His voice is closest to something fond, as if he’s reminiscing sweet memories. It was much different on your account, and part of you wondered if Sukuna understood that. He makes no effort to help you up (he explains that you’re “a big boy now”) as he invites himself into your apartment. Nothing special, he doesn’t care much for family photos or if you have them, but the stacks of letters and books on your table peak his interest. He tears apart envelopes as if he owns them, reads through the contents and discards them to the floor if he deems them useless. The way he sits nearly breaks your chair, and, honestly, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself.

So you sit beside him.

“You were so scared,” He says, almost as if he were bragging. But he was known to be arrogant and cocky, that was just his nature. He didn’t truly mean it like that, in fact, he looked quite reverent after letting the thought drift into the air. It was kind of funny, such a powerful thing fawning over past memories. But that wasn’t how this should go, you had your memory back, so why hasn’t anything happened? “When you grabbed my hand you stopped shaking.”

“...”

“It’s a shame I couldn’t keep you long,” He visibly frowns, the skin around his lips worry, but you can't tell if it’s genuine or not. He looks at you with something knowing the second the thought enters your head. “I looked for you, at first. You died young, for a human.”

Ninteen. ‘I should have been there,” he wants to add.

“Why aren’t I dying now?” You interrupt and let the panic sink in, the thought of impending doom sits on your shoulders because, really, it could happen at any moment. But this time, you don’t want it to. You remember accepting death when it came to your door at the young age of five, nineteen, countless times over and over. You had only ever gotten this far, you weren’t ready yet. You couldn’t start over, not now. “Sukuna?”

The question sours his mood in the blink of an eye, and instead of looking through your things, he raises himself from his seat to rest his palms on the table. It seemed he had a thing for staring down at people, making them cower under his stone cold gaze. You note the way his jaw clenches. You open your mouth to speak again, but he seems to have other plans. He squeezes your cheeks, making your lips purse together under the pressure of his large fingers. The movement feels familiar, like he’s done it before. The five years you spent with him were still a bit of a blur, but you remembered holding his hand quite often. He’d tell you to close your eyes if there was something he didn’t want you to see, he’d ruffle your hair a bit too hard, let you sleep on his back if he was out in the town. But that was all you remembered. He remembered it all.

“Respect your elders,” He lets go and sits back down as if he hadn’t just thrown a tantrum over you interrupting him. Sukuna was centuries old, but even then, he’d exhibit immature behavior sometimes. Living for so long had to get boring (and lonely) at some point, perhaps that was why he looked for you. He did consider you something close to family, after all. In truth, there were some lifetimes where you met. Some when you were friends, something more than that, and something inseparable. And that’s why you hadn’t died yet, you didn’t remember it all. “It’s rude to interrupt someone when they’re talking.”

“You’re much more handsome in this life.” His smile is much more intimidating than sweet, the sinister curl to his lips would only ever be associated with bloodshed in your eyes. But it was much more than that. Nights of sleeping together, days of laughter and flirtatious comments, soft moments that only you had seen. And it was bittersweet, because he knew the second he’d jog your memory you’d be gone. It wasn’t just a curse for you, but for him. Maybe it was his punishment for hurting so many people, dragging an innocent soul down with him and hanging them by the red string of fate. The comment makes your skin prickle with heat. Sukuna was quite the charmer when he wanted to be, easily picking at your weak spots with whatever you wanted to hear. But the comment was much more for the sake of his own, instead of yours.

Sukuna stands, hot on his heels as he holds out his hand one last time. If something were to happen to you tonight he’d make the most out of it, just as he did countless times over and over. So many years of starting over, getting to know you in various different bodies, realizing that being trapped away was the only way you’d get to live a full life, it was always on his mind. You were always on his mind.

So you take his hand. And for the millionth time, he’d become your second home.

taglist:

@ryoukuna @indigowren21 @cannedfoodisbestfood @junkwhoore @kissesdenji @sanderssidesangsttrash @i-d0g @kaito-asmr @jream-23 @princejasno @mel-bigia04 @mhasimp666 @onehellofasimp @corporeal-terrestrial @angelaturservice @shadows-of-nightmares @rinkindaugly

#💕.sukuna #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #anime x you #anime x reader #anime x male reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #sukuna imagine #sukuna angst #sukuna au #sukuna oneshot

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narutogwriting · 3 years

Note

If requests are open, then: Gaara has chosen a bride, but during their engagement she refuses to capitulate to Suna’s council and their desires to have her on their side instead of Gaara’s. So, in order to break trust/break them apart (the details are obvs your choice), a councilman or two sends a shinobi to sexually assault her.

Fortunately, Gaara discovers the man in time to save you.

With this prompt, could you write something for it? Hurt/confort, lemons (jfc tumblr just knock it off with the gag order already), dark/horror, your choice!

PRECIOUS

Pairing: Gaara x Reader

CW: Attempted sexual assault, light NSFW

Length: 4.6k+

A/N: I absolutely hate how this came out, but I hope it works for you and is what you were expecting!

You know that feeling you have when you’re younger? You have the adults in your life. They always seem to know exactly what to say, what to do. And you never truly have to worry, because if you don’t have the answer, there’s always someone that does.

Right and wrong. It’s all so black and white, and you’re lucky because the adults in your life always make the upstanding choices.

At least, that’s what you think.

And then you grow up. Little by little, you become older and wise enough to realize the more you think you know, the less you do.

And maybe it’s something big or something small when you first start to lose your faith in those in authority. But there’s always a moment when it clicks; the people in authority know no more than you do, they’re not morally honorable at all. They just have the power.

You’d been a ninja your whole life, but as you got older, you opted to step into a more political role for your village. You’d been around long enough to see how corrupt the ninja system was as a whole, and you had wanted to change it from the inside out.

You thought you’d already had your moment, multiple moments, even, that showed you just how amoral and deceitful the powers that be were.

You had no idea how bad they truly could get.

“So, I hope you understand what we’re asking. Your compliance is… let’s just say, in your best interest.”

Silence ensued. Sunagakure, like the other villages, had a system of checks and balances. Gaara was the Kazekage, leader of the village, but that didn’t mean he had this all consuming power. The Suna Council consisted of twelve members, all in place to make sure the Kazekage is doing what they should and that all decisions were made in the villages best interest.

The council and the Kazekage were supposed to be working together for the village, to make things, better, to help the people. The council was supposed to be supporting the Kazekage as the leader.

So, in a way, you almost couldn’t believe they would ask you this. Only almost. . The Sand Village had never had a reputation of being above reproach. Why, it was just a few years ago when they had partnered with the Sound Village to overthrow the Leaf Village, killing the Hokage in the process. Gaara had only been a child then, but the Suna Council that had agreed with the plot then was the same council that now demanded you betray your husband to be.

They wanted you in their ranks. The direction that Gaara was ready to lead Suna in wasn’t a direction the elders were ready for it to go.

It was new and completely different from anything they’d seen before. But Gaara was insistent that Suna was going to enter an era of peace and perseverance. They would be a village that would fight for the good of the world, not solely their own interests. Suna as a village would no longer be number one. People would be.

And so they expected you to play a secret agent for them. They would give you orders, and then, as Gaara’s wife to be, you would manipulate him into their desires, make him think they were his own. You would play him as if he were a puppet on your strings.

Maybe it was because you had been a diplomat before moving to the Sand for Gaara. They thought because you were a politician, that you would understand their requests and be bought off so easily. It was the very reason you’d taken the position; the way village politics worked needed to change.

The twelve council members stared at you steadily and expectantly. They expected your concurrence, couldn’t imagine that there would be any thought of going against their wishes. They’d gone so long getting exactly what they wanted.

All good things must come to an end.

There were a couple ways you could have played this. Agreed and then told Gaara what they’d asked. That they were demanding for you to work Gaara behind the scenes and manipulate him to their will. You could have agreed, even. Accepted their offers of power and betrayed your betrothed.

You had endless options, but you would take none of them.

Gaara was the love of your life, going to be your husband, and you would present as a strong front. You would let there be no question of where your loyalty was.

Pushing back your chair, you stood, smacking your hands down on the tables, a sudden, loud move that made the old hags jolt. You bit back a satisfied smirk; good. You wanted to scare them, let them know *exactly where they stood with you.

“How dare you?” You demanded from them, meeting each member’s eye slowly and purposefully, wanting them to understand just how badly they had screwed up by trying to turn you against Gaara.

“I don’t know how things worked back in your days, but Gaara becoming Kazekage has reigned in a new era of peace and restitution for the Sand. Things will no longer be the way you allowed it to for so long, full of evil and sneakiness and cowardice. You’re going to learn soon enough; Suna has no more need for the ways of the old world.” You pushed off the table, scowling in disgust.

“How dare you call yourselves leaders while you attempt to turn the Kazekage’s betrothed into a traitor.” Lips pursed, you looked over them all one more time, doing nothing to hide the contempt in your gaze. “The Kazekage is not going to be pleased when he hears about this.”

With that, you turned on your heel, stomping out of the room, letting the door slam closed behind you.

Out of the room now, away from their gaze, you leaned against the other side of the door, feeling the way your heart raced erratically. You couldn’t believe you’d talked like that to the Suna Council.

You’d never been meek, really. Confrontation just wasn’t your favorite thing, and besides this, you respected your elders and village leaders greatly, not discounting their wisdom or experience just because of different times. You’d even admired the council up until this moment.

But no amount of reverence or admiration would ever surpass what you felt for Gaara. You loved him more than anything or anyone, and you would always be on his side no matter what. There was nothing and no one that could make you falter or second guess being by his side.

Heading back to your apartment, you wished not for the first time you shared it with Gaara. You and Gaara didn’t live together yet; he wasn’t exactly traditional, but he wanted to keep up the appearance of it. He didn’t want to move in together until the two of you were officially married, and that day was coming up soon. You could wait just a little longer until you got to wake up to his face every morning.

Nothing sounded more blissful.

It had been a diplomacy mission that had brought you from your home in Iwagakure to Suna for the very first time.

Love at first sight wasn’t necessarily something you believed in, but the first time you laid eyes on Gaara, you knew there was something special in him. You’d heard the stories and the rumors your whole life, the demonic reincarnation of the one tailed beast that killed everything in his path to the reformed and revered youngest Kage in history.

Gaara had been nothing like you expected.

He had the kindest eyes you’d ever seen. At a young seventeen years old, his eyes held stories of a hundred lifetimes. He was quiet, observant. He took in everything and everyone around him, considering their every move and word before responding himself. When he spoke, it was with a shared respect and understanding of those who he was addressing.

You’d bowed respectfully when you met, addressing him, of course, as Kazekage. When you’d straightened, his eyes on you had you blushing; you felt bare under his gaze.

A week. You were only in Suna one week, and that was all it took for you to fall for Gaara. From the first late night the two of you spent negotiating and discussing the particulars of the alliance between your villages, you got to know Gaara more than you’d ever imagined you would.

And Gaara was just as sprung. From your easy smile to the quickness of your thoughts to the passion in which you spoke, he’d never met anyone like you.

You were a marvel to Gaara, and he didn’t let you leave without letting you know.

You were surprised in all honesty. You hadn’t been able to read whether or not he was as interested in you as you were in him, but either way, you wouldn’t have expected a person like Gaara to be so forward.

He was modest and reverent the night before you were to go back to your village when he told you he’d like you to return soon. He left no room for you to wonder what he meant, instantly letting you know that it was because he was enamoured with you, and he had every intention in pursuing you romantically if you would let him.

Of course you would.

It was one and a half years of dating before you’d opted to give up your position in your village to move to the Sand. Gaara didn’t ask you to, never would have dreamed of making you choose between him and your job, but it was the obvious choice to you.

You loved Gaara irrevocably, and he was Kazekage. He couldn’t leave his village, so you would go to him.

It was only a year after that when Gaara asked you to marry him in a way that was so him. It was quiet and private and romantic as hell.

He’d asked you to go with him for a quiet walk to the green house, just about the only place in Suna that had any plants. It was both of your favorite places, so of course you agreed.

When you’d arrived, the green house was alight with fairy lights strung from every corner. Petals from various flowers littered the floor walkway down to an arc of ivy that definitely hadn’t been there before.

Looking at Gaara, your mouth hung agape in disbelief and confusion. He gave you a soft smile, taking your hand and leading you down the walkway. By the time you got to the ivory arc, you had tears overflowing.

“Yes!” You were crying before he even got down on one knee.

Gaara had tried to shoosh you with a small laugh, but you weren’t having it, throwing your arms around him and peppering him with kisses before he could get a word in.

“You have to let me ask you. I have a speech.” He tried to tell you, but gave up as you continued to kiss him, laughing and kissing you back. He pulled a rock carved in the shape of a heart. Lifting the lid, it revealed the beautiful ring he had made for you.

He had to hold you still so he could slip the ring on your finger before kissing your hand.

“I love you,” He told you, those intense green eyes gazing into yours.

Your wedding was still a ways away, but you and Gaara were clearly in love. Why the council genuinely thought you would go along with their demands were beyond you. You’d given up politics for love without a second thought.

Shaking your head, you were relieved when your front door came into view. The first thing you wanted to do leaving your meeting was to go straight to Gaara, but he was gone for the next week on his own diplomacy meeting.

You sighed as you got into bed. Whenever he was home, the council was going to be in for a world of hurt. You could only imagine how livid and betrayed Gaara would geel.

The next few days went by without incident, though that did make you feel just a bit nervous. You expected to be called in for some sort of meeting again, to be talked to, at least sent a message.

But there was nothing. All was peaceful and quiet.

The time passes slowly and uneventfully. You did paperwork and spent time with some friends. That night, you settled into bed with a cup of tea and a book, wishing Gaara was beside you. He’d be gone for a few more days still.

So you opted for just a relaxing night in by yourself. You usually went to sleep early-ish, but that night, you were up well past your usual bedtime, emerged in the fantasy world in between the pages you were reading.

It was because you were awake that you heard a noise from your living room. It was small, barely there, but you’d heard it. It sounded like someone had bumped into something, maybe your living room table, and had been quick to steady it.

You froze, listening carefully for any more sound, but nothing came. You had almost convinced yourself that you imagined the whole thing, but every one of your senses was on high alert. Carefully, slowly, you crept out of your bed, grabbing the kunai you kept under your pillow just in case.

You held your breath, not wanting to risk even making a sound, as you tiptoed towards your bedroom door. Ear pressed to the cool wood, you listened.

Silence met you, but you weren’t convinced. Years as a Shinobi had taught you to trust your gut. Something was off; you could feel it.

Decided to go on the offensive, you turned the door handle and threw open the door, quickly barreling through the opening. You caught the intruder dead in their tracks. He was dressed in all black, everything covered besides his dark eyes.

You were in such shock at there actually being someone there, you froze for a split second. The intruder took that second to attack, lunging at you.

He smashed into you, knocking both of you to the floor, and that’s when your instincts kicked in. As soon as your back hit the floor, you were rolling, throwing your legs over your head and then you were on your feet, sending a kick into the man’s abdomen.

The man let out a gasp as the air was knocked from him. Wasting no time, you sprinted to your front door, ready to flee and call for help.

You weren’t prepared for another intruder waiting at the otherside of the door. The second you opened it, locking eyes with him, his fist lashed out before you could even react.

Pain was all you felt before the world went black.

The world came into view slowly. As your vision cleared, you realized you were in your own bedroom. When you tried to move, you were alarmed to find that your arms and legs were both bound. Your attempt at a scream was muffled by the gag in your mouth.

“Heh, we’ve been waiting for you to wake up.” Your head jerked to see the intruder that you had kicked looming over you. “You’re lucky you got that kick in when you did, but I’m gonna have to pay you back for that one.”

He drew his hand back before smacking it across your face. You gave a muffled cry as the left side of your face stung in pain.

“Stop fucking around,” hissed the other man. “We have orders. Get to it.”

You looked up between the two, scared and confused. What kind of orders?

The first man chuckled with a smirk that looked more like a sneer. “Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this…” He mused as he pulled out a kunai. He moved toward you slowly, deliberately, letting the fear creep from your neck down your spine.

You shook your head, jerking this way and that, but the second intruder pinned you to the bed by your shoulders. “Better stay still, bitch.” He hissed at her. “We got a job to do here. This’ll teach you to defy the village council. By the time we’re done with you, you won’t think twice about doing what they say.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, your night shirt was fisted by the first man before he ripped the kunai through it.

Your face burned hot with embarrassment and shame as the remains of your top were shredded, leaving you bare. You could feel their eyes looming over you, taking in every part of your skin.

“Even your fiancé ain’t gonna want you when we’re done.” You heard snickered, but by this point you’d screwed your eyes shut, not wanting to see them looking at you like you were a piece of meat.

Shuffling made your eyes peak back open to see the first man fumbling with the buttons of his pants.

“Oh yeah, I’m gonna enjoy this.”

He shoved his boxers down, revealing himself as he palmed his length to hardness.

You began thrashing again with renewed vigor despite the hands still pinning your shoulders down. Somehow, you managed to free yourself from the second man's grasp, rolling off the bed and attempting clumsily to push yourself to your feet.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Your ankles were grabbed and unceremoniously, you were dragged kicking back to the man. In moments he had your own pants discarded before he was looming over you.

Everything about him was revolting you. His smell, his heavy body to those cold dead eyes. In one last desperate attempt, you headbutted him as hard as you could, feeling your forehead smash into his nose.

Warm blood spurted out, splashing over you as he let out a mangled scream. “You bitch! I’ll kill you!”

Spots flashed before your vision as his fist connected with your cheek, leaving you disoriented and drowning in pain.

“I’ve had enough of this,” the second man hissed, shoving the first one off of you. “I’ll take care of this.”

He pinned you with his entire body as you felt him shuffling for his pants once more.

You weren’t sure when you’d started crying, but the tears were flowing, drenching your cheeks as your stomach turned sickly. You screwed your eyes shut, willing your mind to go anywhere else but here.

There was nothing else to do but resign yourself to your fate. You couldn’t fight back or scream for help. All you could do was pray it would be over quickly.

You were still waiting when the weight of his body suddenly lifted off of yours, and you heard the most horrifying scream. Your blood went cold at the sound, causing your eyes to shoot open.

Sobs began to wrack your body as it shook with relief so great it overwhelmed you. Gaara! He was here!

And you’d never seen him look so angry before.

His eyes were wide and crazed, the vessels looking like they would pop at any second. The men were screaming, pleading, but Gaara couldn’t hear them pass the blood rushing in his ears. Teeth bared, he was growling, the sound menacing and maniacal.

In this moment you understood something in a way you never had before: Gaara was a force to be feared.

“Please! Please, we’re sorry!” “No! Don’t!”

“Sand Coffin.”

The men let out one last strangled scream before they were silenced permanently. Blood splattered everywhere, pouring down like rain. It streamed down over you and everything else in your room.

Gaara was panting hard, still looking more wild than you’d ever seen him. His eyes were locked on the sand that was seeping red with blood.

A small whimper from you brought him back. His eyes quickly flickered to you, and it was like you could see his soul returning to his body.

He was by your side in a second, kneeling next to you and pulling you to him. He gently removed the gag from your mouth and removed the bind from your wrists and ankles.

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t have the words. He just held you while you weeped into his chest, wrapped in a blanket and finally feeling safe in his arms.

It took you a while to calm down. The adrenaline had left your body, leaving you only with the weight of what had almost happened. The fear and shock left you trembling, ripping sobs from your throat.

“I’m here…” He kept repeating. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Once you were able to finally relax, Gaara packed you a bag and took you to his home. You would never need to go back to your home with those traumatic memories, he decided. To hell with tradition or social conventions. He would move you into his home first thing the next morning.

At Gaara’s home, he ran a bath for the two of you filled with bubbles. He took a warm wash cloth, gently wiping the blood from your body. He massaged the blood back to the areas you’d been binded and iced the bruises on your face, any traces of the manic man from earlier gone. All that was left was the serene Gaara you knew and loved.

Gaara didn’t press you to talk or tell him anything the whole while, only made sure you were attended to and cared for.

It was later on once the two of you were in bed with Gaara holding you close to him that you filled him in on what had happened: the Suna Council attempts to get you to turn against Gaara and manipulate him to their purpose. What those men had said before they’d attempted to… you couldn’t even say the word.

Gaara took it all in silently, but you could feel his grip on you tighten just slightly as you spoke. He was livid; you could see it in his eyes, though it was much more subdued than before. “I’m so sorry this happened to you,” he finally spoke, his words heavy and choked.

“If you weren’t marrying me…” He stopped, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I’m sending out word first thing to the four other villages. We’ll have the members disbanded and imprisoned before the week ends.” He assured you with a conviction and sternness you’d only seen in meetings before.

Nodding, you pulled him closer to you. “I never thought I’d see you again…” You told him. “I was so scared… I thought…” You shook your head. “You saved me. You’re always there.”

“Always,” Gaara said, kissing your head.

He didn’t know whether to chalk it all up to luck or intuition that he’d come home early. He had just missed you so terribly, it was like he suddenly couldn’t stand to be away from you for another moment. He’d cut his diplomacy trip early and hurried back, getting to you in just the nick of time.

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore…” You murmured, looking up at him. “I just wanna forget about it, just for tonight…” With that, you reached up to press your lips to his.

Gaara hesitated only for a moment before kissing you back. He’d missed you so much, and if this was what was going to make you feel better, well, who was he to deny you? In a moment, you were up on top of him, straddling his lap as you kissed him more forcefully, almost desperately.

Gaara’s arms went around you, fingers digging into your hips as he held you against him. He let one hand slide up your back into your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands. Slowly, your lips slid down, moving over his jaw down to his neck, peppering every area you could reach with kisses.

Your name left Gaara’s mouth, a low, needy whine. It sent a jolt through your body, and you began to grind yourself into his lap. You could feel Gaara’s grip tighten in your hair even more as he slowly began to harden underneath you.

Your fingers began to pull at the hem of his shirt desperately. You needed something to ground you. You needed Gaara.

He let you pull the shirt off of him, discarding it to the side before he was on you again.

He flipped you over so you were on your back as he attached his own lips to your neck, attacking the skin, marking you as his. You were moaning and trembling under his touch, begging him for more as his hands wandered your body.

“Gaara,” You groaned out as his fingers fumbled with the waistband of your pants. “No foreplay. I want you now.”

You could hear Gaara stifle his groan at your words before your pants were unceremoniously yanked down. His lips pressed harshly back to yours, all tongue and teeth. Gaara had put aside his own feelings earlier for yours, but now they were pouring out of him.

His anger at the council. His bloodthirst for those men. His fear for what almost had happened to you; you could taste it all in the kiss. Gaara needed you to ground him just as much as you needed him to ground you.

One moment you were kissing and the next your clothes were in a pile, and he was inside of you, hands pinning down your hips as he rutted into you desperately. Your nails scratched down his back, you tried to moan or cry out, but all your sounds were swallowed by his lips.

You were breathless, dizzy as his hips pounded into yours, never breaking the kiss. His pelvic bone caught your clit with every movement and it wasn’t long before you were gushing around him, but he didn’t slow his moments. He pulled your legs up, locking them around his waist. “More,” He was mumbling against your lips. “More.” When it was over, you cumming around his cock countless times before he finally found his own release, spilling inside of you endlessly, he pulled you into his side, holding you closer than he had in some time.

“I’ve never seen you like that before.” The image played in your mind, Gaara’s eyes wild and burning, the flames of anger behind them.

Gaara tensed slightly, but you placed your hand on his chest, calming him as you gazed up at him. You weren’t afraid of him. You were only… intrigued by this side of him you’d never experienced.

“I use to crave blood.” He told you. “I know you have heard the stories. My whole life, I was told I was a monster. I thought I was one. My sole purpose was to kill everyone around me so I could survive.”

His hand was rigid on your shoulder as he spoke, but you held his gaze unwavering. You accepted Gaara. Every part of him.

“But now, I know my true purpose.” His stare was steady, sure. “Ever since I’ve become Kazekage. My purpose has been to protect those precious to me, those who need someone to protect them. I no longer crave violence or blood. But I will not let anyone, no matter who they are, hurt someone I love…” He pulled you even closer, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“I never would have dreamed I would have someone precious to me, or someone who I am precious to. But now that I have you, I’m never going to let you go.”

506 notes · View notes

religion-is-a-mental-illness · 3 years

Note

I posted this picture in an atheist group. And one smartass responded this

"Most Christians, with whom I have a lot to do in private, especially those from the Protestant Church, do not share such views at all."

He is always a little protective on this topic and explains some stuff in a really good way, but this is only argument from experience. What would you say?

I would say he's never listened to anyone who left.

Firstly, this is a really weird claim to make. Because I don't know how many times I've heard a believer tell myself or someone else that I/we don't believe because of some kind of adverse experience with a church or religion. They weren't True Xians, come to our church and you'll see it's not like that.

Here's just a couple of examples:

https://religion-is-a-mental-illness.tumblr.com/post/189685199592

https://religion-is-a-mental-illness.tumblr.com/post/178046031167

It's been one of their favorite ways to belittle and dismiss non-belief.

"wHo hUrT yOu tO tUrN yOu fRoM gOd?!12!?!1!?!?"

Let's put that aside for now.

Romans 3:23

For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God;

Nobody is good enough.

1 John 1:8-10

If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.

This is called a Kafka trap. If you deny you’re a witch, that’s proof you’re a witch, because denying you’re a witch is exactly what a witch would do.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Total_depravity

Total depravity (also called radical corruption or pervasive depravity) is a Christian theological doctrine derived from the concept of original sin. It teaches that, as a consequence of man's fall, every person born into the world is enslaved to the service of sin as a result of their fallen nature and, apart from the efficacious (irresistible) or prevenient (enabling) grace of God, is completely unable to choose by themselves to follow God, refrain from evil, or accept the gift of salvation as it is offered.

The doctrine is advocated to various degrees by many Protestant denominations, including some Lutheran synods, and all Calvinist churches.

I don't think he understands Xianity.

do not share such views at all

It just sounds like he's authoring his own god and his own religion. Which they all do, but what he's saying kind of undermines the entire point of Xianity: that humanity is irrevocably fallen and sinful by nature, needs to repent and seek salvation from depravity through Jesus Christ. That's pretty much a good definition of Xianity.

Let's also put the scripture aside.

The image is a caricature, as evidenced by the walking, talking sheep.

Although....

A metaphor, if you will. It's remarkable that people who are so obsessed about turning things into metaphors don't actually understand metaphors when they're presented.

It's probably true that very few but those from the most fundamentalist or most extremist denominations have ever actually encountered anything as literally depicted in the meme.

However, he's missing or avoiding the point. This happens on a much more insidious, manipulative and subtle basis all the time.

There are hundreds of apostates online, ex-Xians, ex-JWs, ex-Muslims and so on, on podcasts, forums, boards and other places, who will tell you how they learned these lessons. Through a tossed word, a glare, an admonishment to be quiet, an insistence that they didn't have enough faith, that god was punishing them; Jesus is watching; give the glory to god; nothing without god (a "good" thing), give god what's right, not what's left; and a dozen other little sayings that make believers feel broken and damaged, sold as "humility."

He can't see it because it's the water he swims in. He's listening to other believers, who are in the club and want to stay in the club. They know full well not to criticize the club, because they're dependent upon the club, because that dependence has been fostered through the the aforementioned manipulations.

And they probably grew up in the club and have nothing to compare it to.

You've got a a guy with Stockholm syndrome asking the others with Stockholm Syndrome whether any of them have Stockholm Syndrome.

It's only the people who have left who will tell him honestly. But he probably won't listen, because he doesn't want to hear it; they probably have an agenda like trying to tear him from his god or trying to promote atheism or something.

On the off chance he has some intellectual integrity, here are some relevant podcast episodes from the Born Again Again Podcast, with Joe and Katie Bauer.

https://bornagainagain.co/podcast/episode-16-losing-our-identity-in-christ

https://bornagainagain.co/podcast/episode-14-christianity-warped-our-brains

https://bornagainagain.co/podcast/episode-03-is-my-relationship-with-god-abusive

https://bornagainagain.co/podcast/episode-20-being-a-godly-woman

https://bornagainagain.co/podcast/episode-21-being-a-godly-man

They talk about what Xianity did to them, what it encouraged them to do to themselves. Rarely even overtly, but through subtle messaging, through what was held as virtuous, what was whispered about, who was whispered about, learned social cues, small chips in who they were that added up over time. Joe talks about how he deliberately hollowed out his personality so that he could be filled with Jesus; he aimed to be nothing more than a vessel for god and Jesus and shit, and saw that as a good thing

And they talk about how they had to completely reconstruct their identities, their personalities afterwards as a result. They talk about how different each other is after their deconversion, and how much more they like each other and themselves.

But I suspect even if he listens to it, he'll want to rationalize it. Because they just can't see what it looks like from the outside.

And yes, it’s also fallacious. We could file it as a Biased Sample:

https://www.logicallyfallacious.com/logicalfallacies/Biased-Sample-Fallacy

Biased Sample Fallacy

(also known as: biased statistics, loaded sample, prejudiced statistics, prejudiced sample, loaded statistics, biased induction, biased generalization, biased generalizing, unrepresentative sample, unrepresentative generalization)

or a Hasty Generalization:

https://www.logicallyfallacious.com/logicalfallacies/Hasty-Generalization

Hasty Generalization

(also known as: argument from small numbers, statistics of small numbers, insufficient statistics, argument by generalization, faulty generalization, hasty induction, inductive generalization, insufficient sample, lonely fact fallacy, over generality, overgeneralization, unrepresentative sample)

EDIT: I just realized I misinterpreted what you wrote; it was an atheist saying this, not a believer. I saw “smartass” and “in an atheist group” and, well, it’s a fairly natural mistake to make.

I think what I’m saying here still holds. He may never have been in one such religion, or may never have been a believer at all. But even if it’s not universal, this is still a common experience.

#ask #christianity #religion #religion is a mental illness #total depravity #original sin #the fall #the fall of man #ex christians #ex jws #ex christian #ex jw #confirmation bubble

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wolvesandpetals · 3 years

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Loki x Sylvie Post-Finale Fanfiction (Angst, Rated Teen) Part 2 of 2

Part 1 is here:

She never knew it would hurt this much when the person she loves is right in front of her, but she can't reach out and touch him; when she is still her, he is still him, but everything else has changed, like an invisible lever in an old theatre changing the scenery in the background, bringing them both to the part of the play where they are hopelessly lost.

[[MORE]]

All it took was one single moment, one single decision, and everything feels irrevocably broken now. It makes her contemplate on the true nature of relationships, how fragile they are, and how easy it is to shatter them- and her.

The smoke is slowly clearing, and all that seems to be left is a man who is doing his best to keep his distance from her, physically and emotionally.

She can tell from the way he stands with his arms crossed, or his fists clenced when his hands are by his side, that he really doesn't want to hold her hand. How can something so simple as the touch of his fingers be so vital to her existence that it feels like something has been ripped out from inside her?

She wants to reach out and touch him, but she is scared that if he pulls away outright, any hope of reconciliation that she still has left will shatter into pieces.

And she really needs this hope. It's the only thing she still has left. It's the only thing that keeps her going.

---

He looks like a man with a mission.

They spent quite a long time together, running from the TVA, running towards the citadel at the end of time, hoping to achieve their goal of bringing down the one behind the curtains.

But that was her mission, and he was there for her. She was the one behind the wheels, he was the one keeping the sails afloat.

Now it's different. Now he has a defined goal, a glorious purpose.

She's seeing him in a whole new light now, and not just because he has switched to Asgardian leather and metal armors.

As far as she is concerned, she is better off doing it all alone. One woman army, nobody to get in her way, nobody to screw up her plans. Nobody to blame her if it all goes to shit.

Or so it was, until two months ago, when Mobius decided to enlist her help in fixing the multiversal madness.

She has never really worked with people before, and it's weird, to say the least. She never considered herself a team player, but she is finding herself hating the idea less and less lately.

And she swears it has nothing to do with him. Not the fact that they are working together, and seeing his face first thing in the morning brings her a sense of calm that she quite can't explain. Or the fact that their rooms are next to each other and it makes her feel secure enough to finally get some rest at nights. Or that this whole arrangement has kept them on talking terms, when they had gone their own separate ways otherwise.

Nothing to do with that at all.

---

Humans are stupid, and the biggest evidence of this is how they decided that two extremely powerful Gods skilled at magic, enchantment, and defeating an evil extra dimensional cloud that swallows everything it touches, should be delegated to the role of research. "You're clever. You're good at reading people. You can put yourselves in the shoes of the bad guys, no offense", they said, but really, what they meant was, "We can't trust you out in the field much." She knows it, he knows it. She just doesn't know why he's complying.

That's how they find themselves researching every single day.

She likes to think he's not the only reason why she's studying in the library instead of in the comfort of her room, but that'd be a lie.

At first, he chooses to sit at a separate table. But she keeps going over to his to "get his opinion" on something in the file she's reading, and finally, he gives in. Their current arrangement consists of him sitting in the chair in front of her, to the left, prim and proper, while she hoists her feet up on the table.

He falls asleep on the desk one night, face smacked against a file, the tiniest bit of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. It would be a hilarious sight, if her heart wasn't feeling what she can only describe as longing.

They should probably talk about it, like mature adults, but neither of them know how to do that.

All she can do right now is gather the courage to run her fingers through his hair. The touch is hesitant at first, as if one wrong move would make him wake up and push her back to square one. Slowly, she relaxes, letting her fingers dance on his scalp.

He stirs in his sleep. "Please Sif. I'm sorry. Don't cut off my glorious locks, please."

Now this is a story she must hear when things are better.

If things are better.

---

Doctor Strange joins them very briefly, very rarely, but the tension between him and Loki is hard to miss. It's worse than the current situation with her, and that's saying something.

"You don't really like Stephen, do you?"

Something inside him seems to shift, but he masks it behind a non-chalant look immediately and just arches an eyebrow at her. "He's Stephen now, is he?"

"Well, that is his name." She shrugs. "What do you call him?"

"Strange", he spits the word out with an amount of irritation that indicates there definitely is a story there. "That is his name", he mimics.

She can't help the smirk that spreads across her lips. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing", he lies, ignoring the horrifying flashbacks of thirty minutes of endless falling. Not a single soul must ever know a mere human got the best of him. "What can he do to me? I'm a God among those mortals. He just irks me because he is so pompous, and arrogant, and he ceaselessly uses magic to toy with others."

She pretends to think deeply. "Now where have I seen that before?"

He scoffs. "You mock me, but I am nothing like him. For one, I am not rude."

"He seems fine to me", she declares decisively.

It's the first time in months that he gives her a cheeky grin. "That's because you're rude too."

---

They are still just containing the threats to their world, instead of finding a way to fortify the barriers between worlds and stop the threats from coming.

"Shouldn't we have a plan to seal off the other worlds from ours?" She asks him one day.

"They are working on it." He tells her, and then with a look of worry, adds, "I hope."

There are debates on what to do at the Avengers tower and at the TVA. Nobody seems to agree on what the best course of action is, but everyone seems to be following the general instructions of Doctor Strange.

During one such meeting, a Minuteman makes the mistake of voicing out loud how she wondered if things would be better if they were running according to their old boss's plans.

Sylvie feels the guilt wash over her once more.

"No", Loki tells them all firmly. The determination in his voice takes her completely by surprise. "Evil is evil. Lesser, greater, middling, makes no difference. The degree is arbitrary. The definition’s blurred." She catches him steal a glance at her direction. "We couldn't have left a dictator in charge just because it's convenient. Listen, I'm the bad guy. I've done horrible, unspeakable things. I thought humans needed to be ruled. I wanted to rule. But even I know that it's not right to take away a person's life completely. These are innocent people. You are innocent people. You have families back home, parents, children", a pause and a softening of his features, "-love. A whole past, a whole future. That man had no right to take it away from you."

His powers of persuasion are foreign to her, and it's mesmerizing to watch. Her enchantments cannot hold a candle to how he is able to just talk people into doing what he wants, thinking what he thinks, seeing what he sees.

"He who remains had a plan. One, singular plan, from one, singular man." There is absolute conviction in his voice. "It's not the only way. We'll find another way. A better way."

She has never known what it is like to have someone see you for who you are- broken and flawed, and defend you- even your well-intentioned actions that yielded different results than what you expected and hurt them in the process. She suspects it has been the same for him, a lifetime of not having anyone have his back.

The warm feeling inside her is brand new. What is the name of this? Comfort? Relief?

Happiness?

---

This will be their first time out in the field in a long time, and she feels a little sick to the stomach.

He notices. "Are you alright?"

The concern in his voice tugs at her heartstrings. She nods. She has faced way worse, she shouldn't be so nervous about this, but she is. "I've never done this before."

"We can always just kill him and blame it on the Chitauris", he suggests with a serious face.

"I heard that", Peter yells from the other room, where he is doing whatever it is that teenagers do to prepare for battle.

She shakes her head in disbelief. "I can't believe we're babysitting."

"I've done this before", he assures her, and it surprises her to picture him being entrusted with such a serious task. "The trick is to conjure up illusions that keep them distracted enough to not cry."

She laughs. "You're thinking of infants. This one is a little older."

"I'm over a thousand years old, Sylvie. They're all infants to me."

Peter joins them, mask covering his face so that he doesn't reveal his identity. "So what do I call you? Loki and Loki? That's confusing. How about Loki and Lady Loki? Or is that offensive? I'm not suggesting women are inferior, because they're absolutely not..."

"Does he come with an off switch?" She whispers in horror as Peter rambles on.

Loki grins. With one wave of his hand and a flash of green, Peter's own webbing shoots out and seals his mouth shut.

---

Things are fine but not fine at the same time. He's right there beside her, but not there at all. They have their banters, they have their stolen glances, but they haven't had a meaningful conversation since that first day when she got back. She's been putting it off for a long time, but she knows they really do need to have the talk.

She corners him in his room one evening while he's tinkering with a temporal collar. She takes a seat in the chair next to his bed and rests her hand on the table, leaning her head against her palm, before switching position and crossing her arms and legs. Everything about her posture screams uneasiness. If he notices- he probably does- he doesn't say anything.

"You defended me that day."

He briefly looks up from the task at hand and gives her a soft smile. "Of course."

She blinks. "I don't understand." Her hands involuntary rise up to rub her temples. "If you can justify my actions to them, then how can you still be mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you", he says without missing a beat.

"Rubbish", her words come out angrier than she intended. This frustration is the result of the months of status quo they have had. She has to know now, one way or the other. "You're distant. You're guarded", she accuses. Then her voice breaks, as she feels a part of her break all over again with her next words. "You don't hold my hand. Why? Tell me."

He abandons the collar and focuses his full attention on her. Staring straight into her eyes, he answers her. "You know why."

"I wouldn't be asking if I did. Look, if it's because I chose the mission over you-"

"-Of course it's not that." He says decisively. Then a sad smile clouds his face. It's the same look he had when she accused him of conning her to gain the throne. "Do you think I'm the type of man who would want a woman to abandon her life-long ambitions just because she has met someone?"

She knows he isn't. But it still doesn't answer why he is so cross with her. "What is it then?"

He pauses for a moment, trying to decide whether he wants to bare his soul out to her once more or not. There are two ways he can go from here- choose to not let her in again and save himself from the hurt, or trust her again and open himself up to potential pain.

Who is he kidding? Pushing her away- keeping her away- doesn't hurt any less.

There were a thousand things that had to go wrong to bring two Lokis from two universes together. A connection like that, it doesn't just happen.

And it doesn't just go away. The pain is constant, it's a part of him, pounding like a second heart every second he has to stop himself from reaching out for her hand.

This has to come to an end.

He takes in a deep breath, bracing himself. "You didn't have to send me away, Sylvie. I wanted to stop you from making the same mistakes I did. But in the end, I didn't care what you chose. I just wanted us to do it together."

She never even imagined this could be the reason for his hurt. All these months spent thinking he hates her for her choices, and now it turns out he is hurt simply because she chose to do it alone? "I'm sorry." She says sincerely. "I just wanted you to be safe."

"And I just wanted to be there with you till the end." He confesses. His eyes shimmer with the emotions he has kept bottled in for so long. "You go, I go."

She doesn't know what to say to that. She has never been good at articulating her feelings. Tears stream down her cheeks at the realisation that even after everything, he is still there for her.

She didn't cry even back at Lamentis when they thought they were going to die. She doesn't let anyone see her cry when she is sad or scared. That's all she has known her whole life. She's used to it by now.

This is new. These are tears of relief. Comfort.

Happiness.

Tentatively, she crosses over to the bed and sits by his side.

It's quiet for a few minutes. But unlike the months of tension so thick she could cut it into splices with her daggers, this is comfortable silence. The kind they had before it all went wrong.

"Did you even miss me?" He whispers.

"What kind of silly question is that? Of course I did." Her shaking hands grab his, and oh how she missed this.

He intertwines their fingers. His eyes draw closed. Bliss. That's the only word for this feeling.

He opens his eyes again and studies her. She's staring back at him, teary-eyed, but with a hopeful smile. "Really? Because you have a really unique way of showing it. You didn't even come looking for me."

"I didn't know how to face you", she tells him honestly. No tricks, no enchantment, no treachery. Not with him. "I didn't know if you even wanted to see me." Her voice grows quieter, dropping to a timbre that perfectly encapsulates her deepest fear. "I thought you hated me."

"Hate you?" He is shocked that she thinks that is even possible, specially after seeing him these last few months. "Sylvie, I'm working with the Avengers. The Avengers. Do you know how much I hate them? They are my nemesis. They're self-righteous, condescending, and so completely dull. Every second with them makes me want to rip their hearts out. Why do you think I'm here with them?"

She thinks she knows. But she needs to hear it anyway.

"It's because of you." He lays it all out on the table. All cards on deck, win or lose. "You've been running away. I have been the one who has been here, trying to hold down the fort, working to fix everything. Because that is what one does when one loves-"

Shit. The word slips out before he realises it.

Their eyes go wide in unison.

"Sylvie, I-"

"-Don't you dare take it back now." She warns him. "I-" She doesn't know how to say it either. They make such a great pair, both equally daft at saying how they feel, like they are teenagers, not Gods who have lived for centuries. "I've been running because I didn't think I could bear the burden of knowing I found you and then I lost you. I don't want to lose you. Not now, not ever."

He kisses the back of her hand, before letting it go. He cups her face, gently caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. "I don't want to lose you either."

She leans in closer, until their foreheads touch. She can feel his breath on her face, warm and soft. That is exactly how she feels inside. "You won't", she promises. "You go, I go."

---

(Quote on Lesser Evil from The Witcher. Thanks for reading!!)

#fanfiction #fanfic #loki #loki disney+#loki x sylvie #sylki #sylvie laufeydottir #sylvie x loki #pro sylki

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atruththatyoudeny · 3 years

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Happy 28th! Here are all the 14 fics I read and enjoyed this month. As always, all the love for all the amazing authors in this fandom! ♥

In The Still Of The Night | jacaranda_bloom | Dirty Dancing AU - a/b/o - prejudice - gender stereotyping - class divide - angst - pining - smut - 69k In a society where omegas are expected to follow a predetermined path, Louis strives for more; for his voice to be heard, for recognition, for true love. In a world where your past defines your future, Harry fights against the system; for equality, for a different life, for acceptance. When their two worlds collide, will they be beaten down by conformity or will they rise up and forge a new path together? OR the Dirty Dancing AU where Louis is a feisty omega who wants to change the world, Harry is an alpha from the wrong side of the tracks, and nobody puts Louis in a corner.

Plant New Seeds in the Melody | 28sunflowers | enemies to friends to lovers - miscommunication - misunderstandings - emotional hurt/comfort - Original Character Death - grief/mourning - slow build - smut - 58k After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, the last thing Louis needs is to keep running into popstar Harry Styles, who David was quite fond of. Obviously, that’s exactly what keeps happening. But as their unlikely friendship blossoms, Louis realizes that, maybe, having Harry in his life was the only good thing that came out of his adverse circumstances. Harry could be just the right person to help Louis find trust and intimacy in someone new.

take my hand, wreck my plans | amomentoflove | Cinderella AU - a/b/o - royalty - Minor Character Death - emotional abuse - magic - 38k Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him. “Mr. H,” he whispers. The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.” “Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.” “Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…” “Dance?” Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.” Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.” Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

One More Taste of Your Lips | Canadianlarrie & MsHydeStylinson | canon compliant - reunion tour - angst - internalized homophobia/biphobia - cheating - smut - Coming Out - 80k It had been eight years since the hiatus began, and Louis had spent that time writing and recording music, touring and making it safely through the pandemic. When the opportunity arose to go back on tour with One Direction, Louis knew he'd be a fool not to take it. Sure, life on the road would be different after all this time apart, but he was looking forward to experiencing that comradery again. What he hadn't realised was that living the better part of nine months in each other's pockets was bound to dredge up issues from his past. And when one of the pockets belonged to Harry, who he'd had a rather unconventional friendship with that drifted apart during their last tour, life on the road again would upend both their lives in irrevocable ways. * Harry wasn’t that sixteen year old boy anymore. Nor was he the young man in his late teens who was on the cusp of conquering the entire world. But some traits seemed to remain the same; his vibrant green eyes, the dimples set deeply in his cheeks whenever he laughed earnestly, or his curls that were the same shade of cocoa that Louis remembered fondly. And yet, Louis had absolutely no idea who this man that stood a mere twenty paces away was today.

Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember | jaerie | time travel - Eroda - period-typical homophobia - anxiety - depression - discussion about suicide - self-discovery - post-break up - 54k Carefully he set that negative down and lifted the paper to see there was another beneath. This one again was a young man, this time posed against an antique car. He lifted a few more negatives out one by one, each a portrait of the same man with various backdrops. The man in a meadow, in an office, leaning against a doorframe — even one in his underwear grinning at the camera. On the edge of each negative printed in slanted, handwritten characters were the initials and date. H.S. 1924. He quickly but carefully packed them back into the box and buzzed with excitement. He couldn’t wait to develop them to see exactly what had been captured in the images. It was a find that felt like a puzzle to piece together. H.S. was likely the man in the photographs as well as the owner of the suitcase. Who was he? Why had his suitcase found its way into Niall’s attic? Was he still alive and well somewhere in the world? A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.

Know a Trick or Two | SadaVeniren | Harry Potter setting - mpreg - magic - kid fic - - genderfluid character - smut - intersex - 44k The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child. Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts. Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

come away with me | suspendrs | Minor Character Death - friends to lovers - sexuality crisis - emotional hurt/comfort - anxiety - smut - 80k Louis had such big plans. He wanted so much out of life, and so did Amy. Now Bridget is going to grow up without a mother, and she’s always going to wonder what it would be like if this hadn’t happened. He wonders if she’ll blame him for her mother’s death as she gets older, or if she’ll understand that this is just as painful for Louis as it is for her. Louis doesn’t know how he’s going to raise her on his own, because he’s a fantastic father, yes, but he’s always been the fun parent, and Amy was in charge of the rules. He doesn’t know how to make sure Bridget has everything she needs all the time, doesn’t know how to make her favorite meal or how to do that one braid she loves to have in her hair or how to teach her to be the best person she can be. He doesn’t know how to live without Amy, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter's life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help.

we made our promises (we said our vows) | millsx | Military AU - established relationship - kid fic - angst - hurt/comfort - mentions of PTSD - mentions of depressions - mentions of anxiety - injury - long-distance relationship - 21k Fairy tales always end with the Happily Ever After; the princess escapes her evil stepmother and gets married to the knight in shining armor. It turns out real life doesn’t care about Happily Ever Afters and sometimes problems appear when you don’t expect them to. Harry sure didn’t, not after years of being married.

Love, Ever After | jacaranda_bloom | a/b/o - farmers markets - soulmates - pining - miscommunication - fluff - banter - smut - 21k One would assume that the charismatic omega in charge of the local matchmaking service would have found a mate and settled down ages ago. His clients, in fact, are always a bit surprised when they come to learn that Louis is still single. But Louis doesn’t mind, not really. His standards are just high; he is happy holding out for his alpha, his soulmate, and chooses to not waste his time with anyone else, despite what his friends might think. That is, until his best mate from uni drags him out of bed far too early on a Saturday morning after a night of drinking to go to a farmers market, of all places. It’s there that he proceeds to make an utter fool of himself in front of the hottest alpha he has ever laid eyes on. There’s truly no coming back from that, is there? OR The one where omega Louis makes love matches, alpha Harry makes cheese, and meddling friends might finally make their dreams of finding their soulmate come true.

Hometown | allwaswell16 | High School - College/university - driving - heartbreak - memories - friendship - happy ending - angst - 2k On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.

fever dream high | wildestdreams | friends to lovers - childhood friends - a/b/o - fluff - angst - smut - mutual pining - High School - 30k "Excuse me, what?" Harry licked his lips, carefully looking him in the eyes. "I will spend your heat with you so you're ready by Monday to play your game." "Harry," Louis began, suddenly at a loss for words. "I couldn't ask you to do that." "Why not? You just said you trust me." "You're my best friend. There's no one I trust more than you." "Then what's the problem?" "Well, friends don't usually help you through your heats or ruts, so excuse me for being a little skeptical." or A High School ABO AU where Harry and Louis are best friends and nothing more until things start getting a little complicated and they're faced with feelings they never wanted to confront.

We are the same, you run in my veins | 28sunflowers | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o- soulmates - wolves -pack dynamics - 4k When the time for Louis to become the Alpha leader of his pack comes, he can’t rise to the occasion for not being yet bonded. A series of trips to neighbouring packs in search of his soulmate is fruitless until he meets one of the other packs’ Alpha heir. Harry. The world seems to stop turning for a second and then it shifts, clicking into its axis. All the distress and wrongness he felt until that very moment suddenly disappears. Louis is finally whole. But two Alpha leaders from different tribes soulbonding is something unheard of before.

Divinely Blessed | thinlines | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o - established relationship - PWP - 17k “I heard you, Ni. But what do you mean?” “What do you mean what I mean?” Harry rolled his eyes as he shoved his alpha friend down onto a seat. “Did you mean you lick someone out or…?” “Nah, mate! It was me! I got licked out!” Harry could only stare at Niall in horror. Alpha Harry prides himself on having the bravest and most caring omega who might or might not just fulfill his sudden curiosity.

This chemistry like candy to me | CuckooTrooke | a/b/o - kink discovery - mpreg - male lactation - smut - 8k "It's just... Are you aware, that, uh... You're- You're kind of leaking." Harry feels his blood run cold. The heart that was thudding so loud and fast drops to his stomach, and his shoulders hunch in embarrassment. "Excuse me?" Harry asks once he manages to gather himself and recover from the shock. He automatically steps back but since he's already squeezed in the corner, it doesn't do much to put any distance between them, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" "Wha- No. Oh my god, I wouldn't- No," The man says as he realizes the misunderstanding, and wildly gestures to his chest, "I mean your- Your chest. Is leaking." OR Harry is 8 months pregnant with a poor balance and traitorous nipples. Unfortunately for him, that is precisely when he meets a beautiful alpha in a packed London Tube. Fortunately for him, the said alpha might just be the best thing he has ever come across.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #my reads #monthly fic rec #monthly reads #completed fics #larry fics

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blatantvirucide-a · 2 years

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@devilscharity sent: 🧱 🌎 😱 💛 🤷‍♀️ & 🧸 ! (meme.)

i have to separate them, but thank you for sending so many! this first one is a long one, so buckle up

🧱 how would you describe your muses’ morality? what are their core values?

main verse alex is lawful neutral aligned. that is, they are someone who is driven by their principles, but are neither benevolent nor malevolent enough to tip into the scales of good or evil. does a fair mix of both, arguably — past and present.

it's fair to say alex has seen the worst of the worst. moreso, their circumstances forced them to learn violence. it runs natural to them anyway given their viral nature; they're a lethal bioweapon, top of the food chain. but, there was never any choice for them except means of survival, or death. blackwatch gave alex no other options. there was no bargaining, no surrender. choosing flight never worked out, the choice had to be fight, every time. so assuming it's on the table, alex will nearly always choose violence to solve a problem. it's proven effective, and they have no regrets over slaughtering gentek personnel for their hand in events.

this gets tempered only somewhat when alex learns patience, and gets a little change in perspective. at their base, alex is incredibly black and white — judgemental really, but that's because most of their views were shaped by the mistakes of theirs and others. it's a cluttered perspective. reactionary, almost. alex's stint in containment cleared some thoughts, and muddied others; half a year is time enough for both introspection and overthinking.

in my canon-divergent verse for alex, my main verse, they make the decision that dana is better off without them. because they think they failed her, and are furthermore just a virus wearing her brother's skin. (shout out to this thread i have going with my buddy sketch where their dana is confronting alex.)

though arguably a poor decision, alex loves her — it hurt them to make that decision, but it's genuinely what they thought was best. dana mercer is alex’s anchor; in every sense pivotal to their growth and future choices. she is what it is to have family and to sacrifice, to fight for others. an alex without dana’s influence would be irrevocably different. (like my mass effect verse alex.)

alex shoulders burdens and failures heavily. this means they're quick to admit fault, which enables them to learn from their mistakes, but they haven't reached a balance. alex's experience denotes that people die when they make a mistake, so failure can't be a process of exploration and learning like it is for someone with a more mundane life.

and all their mistakes are theirs alone to live with. sometime back i did this ( WHAT ARE YOU THE GOD OF? ) just for fun, and what alex got was the patron of amends. which i love, it's so perfect. i’m going to highlight some snippets from it.

GOD OF THE STRENGTH TO STILL SHAKING HANDS, GOD OF REALIZING WRONGDOINGS AND PERSONAL FAILURES.

THE ONE WHO BLESSES THOSE FIGHTING TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT, FALLING ONTO SWORDS AND WALKING THROUGH FIRE IF IT CAN AFFORD EVEN JUST THE SMALLEST CHANCE AT FORGIVENESS.

YOU CANNOT GUARANTEE ACCEPTANCE, ONLY THE SLIVER OF TIME IN WHICH THEY CAN BE SEEN AND HEARD AND ATTEMPT REPENTANCE.

alex certainly doesn’t believe everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, a second chance — but they do believe in the process of righting one’s own wrongdoing. they’re not someone who strives to be good or compassionate, but there are things that they view as inherently wrong, and they'll fight to correct them. arguably alex spends the latter half of the videogame doing that. then, the nuke at the end that they didn’t know they’d come back from; walking through fire.

CORE VALUES: & justice — harsh principles, retribution, and combating the malign. & redemption — not as absolution, but to fight to correct one's own wrongs, thankless. & survival — inherently neutral; that done for the sake of survival is not punishable. & family — love, sacrifice and unity; to be solid ground when those you care about need steadiness. & change — growth, adaptation and anything in between; mutability for the sake of it. & freedom — in the most literal sense, simple autonomy. & tenacity — to grit your teeth and fight, even when standing alone. & strength — authoritative, resolute and merciless; responsibility to the hard decisions. all-carrying.

#devilscharity #if anyone stopped to read all this HEY!! i appreciate you #i have many thoughts. i could have expanded a few but i didn't want to make this a dissertation #VI. ASKS AND ANSWERS #VII. VIRAL MATTERS

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satbiym · 4 years

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Things that make me go Feral about WangXian

1. Yes, while the most beautiful person in Gusu and love at first fight thing is amazing, what gets me, what really gets me about Wangxian is that they each think the other is the best, most good person they've ever met.

And same for Lan Wangji!!!! The thing that tipped him over the edge, the fact that kept him going through the “come back to Gusu with me” era and the 13 years of mourning and regretting that followed, was the deep-seated belief in WWX's innate goodness and WWX always choosing to do good.

I think the reason the 13 years of regret were extra painful was because deep down he did believe that Wei Ying had a reason for doing everything that he did. The 13 years were spent regretting not that Wei Wuxian died, but that he died believing that everyone thought he had been irrevocably corrupted and was evil.

So, when Wei Wuxian came back, Lan Wangji stood by him, not because he loved him, but because he had left behind that urge to fully know Wei Wuxian’s reasons for doing what he was doing and was content to put and show his faith in Wei Wuxian.

2. They are each other's favourite person and can see their soul reflected in the other's eyes, oh god, i am crying

And, call me silly but I think “I like you” is so much more powerful than “I love you” in any relationship. The fact that both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji like and love each other, are each other’s favourite people in the world and respect one another?

I need a moment.

And if you think of all the other relationships in MDZS, of any flavor - familiar, platonic, romantic - sure, everyone loves one another, but do they truly like them? Do they truly respect them?

Yes, love is miraculous, but liking someone? that’s a choice.

A choice Wangxian happily make, every day.

3. They are the only 2 people in each other's leagues - they are truly equals and well matched.

And yes, I am a sucker for the unstoppable force, immovable object metaphor, are you truly still surprised??

Now, since we’re on the subject - the thing about unstoppable force, immovable object """"paradox""""" is this underlying assumption that these two should and will fight.

But… What if they don't?

What if there is no need for each to prove themselves the victor over the other?

What if they just band together and become the world's best power couple????? what then, Karen?????????????

4. Both LWJ and WWX would rather not profess their love, more than happy to stay in the other's life and support the other and see them happy even if it's not with themselves.

IMHO, the question I would ask every time when it comes to ascertaining love - is staying platonically by their side enough?? Or do they have to be with you for you to want to stay by their side?

Because, if you love them, shouldn’t just being around them be enough? Isn’t their company and happiness enough? Why must your love need to be this destructive, almost performative, overly dramatic, raze the earth kind of event?

Why is friendship lesser than romance?

Wangxian's is a soft love. A love which is matured, where just being around the other (which is how you fell in love with them lbr) is enough of a gift to you and anything else would be a cherry on top of an already amazing cake - amazing but not necessary to enjoy the cake.

quick aside: Friendships solely as a precursor to romance or friendships that are to aid/prime for the eventual romance are mercenary in motive and tbh a motive that is disqualifying for any kind of relationship.

5. I love how much Lan Wangji indulges Wei Wuxian and is overt and publicly unashamed and proud about his love.

Neither would choose to hide their love for the other, because to them, regardless of what the world thinks, their relationship is something they don’t mind being seen as soft for.

6. Wangxian gives the other the benefit of doubt, trusts them are and are on the other’s side. Trusting, not blindly, but because they believe in the other's personality and inherent goodness.

7. Just... Lan Wanji and Wei Wuxian having someone they can trust to have their back, someone who is competent and that they respect. Someone who they don't have to worry about protecting one-sidedly, but someone who can protect them in return.

Wangxian knowing: whatever happens, we can face it together.

And conversely,

Someone with whom they are safe, emotionally, mentally and physically. Not needing to pretend they are someone they aren’t, someone they can let down their facade with and not have to worry about judgement.

Wangxian thinking of the other as part of their own soul. You don’t need to worry about pretending to not hurt, to not laugh, to not be strong, when it’s just you alone, so why must you have to worry about pretending when you’re with your soulmate - the person who has seen you at your highest and lowest and still sees you and respects you and likes you and loves you?

8. They just… like each other’s company and laugh together and delight in, and have the best time with, each other and are each other’s favourite person and I am crying

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian when together just constantly being charmed and delighted and oh, I like you so much

ah soft love is my achilles heel.

9. How protective they are of each other, even from words and negative emotions - insult me, that’s fine, but don’t insult my favourite person

10. this kind of love feels… revolutionary

#mdzs #wangxian #cql #chen qing ling #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #myfics #mymeta #mypost #revolutionary love

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