#and someone had mentioned that people who don’t want to read the bible probably aren’t saved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chaosncabbages · 1 year

Text

Lucifer Tricks a Crypto Bro into Going to Hell (yay)

"I want a Lamborghini."

The voice in my head sighed. "You'll have all the Lamborghinis you could ever imagine, Alex. Once you perform the ritual."

I smirked. He really thought he was smart, that he could trick me so easily. Clearly, he didn't have a head for business. "Nope! You've got to prove you can follow through. That's just how the world works. It's how Bezos, Zuckerburg, and Musk got rich."

"I'm trapped, Alex. If I could use my power I wouldn't be making this deal with you." I was clearly wearing him down, the voice was starting to sound tired.

Of course, he was still holding back on me. The Father of Lies wouldn’t put everything on the table. "Oh? You don't have any fumes you could use to sweeten the deal?"

"It took me thousands of years to even be able to talk to you. And you are the only one who can help me. The only one attuned to the truth of the world. Please. You know enough of my story to know it hurts to beg."

I certainly did. While I'd never be dumb enough to believe it, I'd read the bible to get material for the men's only stand up nights I was getting off the ground. Of course, if it were all real it would make sense that Lucifer would come to me for help. And I certainly liked the feeling of the Lord of Hell prostrating himself before me.

“Why are you even locked up? Aren’t you meant to be running the whole place?”

“Circumstances have been… unkind to me.”

Of course they had. “A rebellion, then. You should really keep a tighter grip on people, man. You know in How to Make Friends and Influence People, Dale Carnegie says that the best way to get someone talking is to ask them about themselves. Maybe if you’d been more interested in people they wouldn’t have trapped you.” And then you could use that information against them. Of course, not everyone was smart enough to realise that.

“I-” Lucifer cut himself short. The silence hung in the air for a moment before he continued. “Well then, Alex, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

I laughed. What was the harm? He clearly didn’t know how to use the knowledge, so I launched into my story. I was born into a modest household, one where we could only afford two trips overseas a year, one during summer and one during spring. Of course, we also had the yearly ski trips, but that was cheaper as we already had our ski gear and a family lodge on the mountain.

The teachers had always hated me at school, marking me more harshly than the other boys simply because I wasn’t afraid to correct them on things. That was okay, though, I’d gotten out of there as soon as I could to become an entrepreneur. I was the creator of an online course about dropshipping, on haggling down the people you bought from and putting the competition out of business. It’d gotten some traction online, with some dumb YouTubers getting their panties in a twist about it.

Lucifer let me explain the strategy to him. He was probably taking notes, though I felt a little bad I wasn’t giving him the real tips. Had to keep those secrets for me. Finally, I wrapped up my impromptu speech, grinning broadly at where I assumed Satan would be standing, were he not chained in the depths of Hell.

“Well.” he said, sounding as though the onslaught of wisdom had left him even more tired, almost as though he were gritting his teeth. “You certainly have a head for business, Alex. I know of demons with a looser grasp of contract law. And speaking of, should we get down to exactly what you’ll get in this deal of ours?”

“Of course.” I declared magnanimously.

“As I mentioned earlier, I am trapped here, at the centre of Hell, deep in the Ninth Circle. However, the chains are built to restrain my power, and my power only. If I could bestow said power onto another, then I would be free to slip from my restraints. But that requires finding someone both worthy to be my heir and able to hold my power. That man is you, Alex. None before have had the ambition, nor the potential, to hold the power of Lucifer, once first amongst God’s angels.”

“You really expect me to believe that?” He must have thought I was dumb. “That you would really give up your power that easily? You must have a plan to get it back.”

“Alex, I… look. I can’t expect you to believe me easily. I’m the Father of Lies, for damnation’s sake. But you need to understand. The angel that fell from heaven? In a prideful, recalcitrant rebellion? He’s gone. Long gone. I have been entombed in ice and chains since humanity was a twinkle in the incalculable eyes of the divine. All I want is to be warm. My body will not age, it will not die. I don’t need power, Alex, I need freedom. Take my power, please. You’re my only hope.”

I snorted “So you’re too weak to withstand a little cold? Maybe your power isn’t that great after all.” Classic business play. Get them to undervalue their own product so you could buy it for less. That one had been too juicy to put in the course.

“Perhaps not. Is there any way I could convince you?”

If Lucifer had been there, he would’ve seen a shark-like grin stretch across my face. “I don’t just want your power. I want a direct download of all the knowledge of how to use it.” I’d guessed his ploy. Sure, I had the potential and the temperament, but without knowledge on how to keep it it’d probably slip back into Lucifer’s grasp as soon as he was free. Knowledge is power, after all.

Lucifer was silent for a long moment, probably trying to work out some loophole in my ironclad offer. Grudgingly, he finally relented. “Very well, Alex. You drive a hard bargain. Truly, you are worthy of my power.”

“Pleasure doing business with you. Now what do I need?”

“Five candles, a way to light them, a box of white chalk, a room large enough to lie on the floor, and the largest ruler you can find.”

}-::-{

I lay on the floor of my apartment’s spare room, right in the centre of a pentagram. My head and each of my limbs lay in the gaps between the star’s points. On each of those points was a single lit pillar candle.

“So now what?”

“Now, you have to open yourself to me. Let your mind wander down the connection we have, Alex. Feel the power that will soon be yours.”

My breathing deepened as I probed the mental bridge to the Lord of Hell. The room grew brighter, flames burning higher and higher until they were taller than the candles they sat on. I set a mental foot on the connection, and the flame jumped from the candles to the chalk on the ground, impossibly immolating the lines on the wooden floor. I wasn’t sure if it was the flames around me, or my mind’s journey through the pits of Hell, but the room grew warmer and warmer, sweat beading on my brow.

Flashes of hellish vistas flickered through my mind with each step, of a field of crucified people and the writhing masses of insects that feasted upon them, of a great city teeming with demons, of a forest of damned souls growing out from the hearts of thorn trees, harpies tearing at what skin hadn’t given way to wood. The candles burned ever fiercer, and yet the heat lay low. A cold that seeped deeper than skin, deeper than flesh, deeper even than bone, to the farthest reaches of my mind and soul heralded the final vision.

A glacial plain stretching out as far as the eye could see. No wailing screams to break the silence, only the dull hum of billions of chattering teeth. In the centre sat a massive figure, frozen in the ice from the waist down. Great leatherous wings stretched from his back, chains dripping from his sallow and emaciated body. He had three faces, one that once would have been considered handsome, before his unending torture had twisted it into scorn, one flayed of its skin, blood dripping from his chin and freezing as it fell, hitting a few damned who had been frozen beneath, and one with nothing left but bone. In each mouth lay a figure being chewed, healing between each stroke of the chained being’s jaws.

The unflayed face’s eyes shifted to look at me. “I’m quite a sight, aren’t I?”

“That’s you?” I breathed, barely able to comprehend what I was seeing.

Lucifer chuckled. “I’m hardly at my best. But yes. Do you see now why I was so desperate?”

My feet carried me forward with barely a thought to direct them. There was nothing to walk on, and yet as though a great invisible path carried me to the heads of the Morningstar, I walked ever forward.

“Place your hand on my head. Allow the power to fill you.” There was a pleading urgency to his voice.

Lucifer’s skin was burning hot, though that may only have been in contrast to the impossible cold of the heart of Hell. Simmering below the surface was a feeling like I’d never imagined, like the desert sun beating down on a snow-clad peak. Strong enough to burn, yet alien enough to blacken your fingers. An incomprehensible reserve of power, just barely chained.

It was all going to be mine.

I plunged deep inside, swimming into the well of infernal magic. It began to shrink as I did, pouring into me. I could feel it. The pride of heaven, the rebellion of hell. The heat of power, and the cold weight of chains.

The cold weight of Lucifer’s chains. That I could almost feel wrapping around me, instead of the Morningstar.

Lucifer chuckled, and my heart grew cold with fear. I’d been tricked. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I screamed. “YOU’LL BE TRAPPED HERE TOO!”

He laughed louder. “Now where did you get that idea?” His voice was silken, bereft of the tiredness he’d been showing earlier. “It’s a simple trade. Someone has to fill the chains. Why not a sickening little insect?”

“This wasn’t the deal.” I hissed. The power was still draining, though it was clear to me now that it was trickling away from the chains, not into me.

“You made a deal with the Father of Lies and expected him to keep it? Oh, my pathetic little pest, I am no paltry demon. I have no need of your soul, you were simply able to help and enough of a sucker to take the bait.”

“You would do terribly in business.” You only go back on deals with people too poor or weak to fight back. That one had been obvious enough to go in the course.

This time, Lucifer cackled maniacally. “Oh you are an entertaining speck, aren’t you? Almost a shame to leave you to the worst Hell has to offer. I wonder if they’ll take your face all the way to the bone, or just flay it? They have less options than they did with me.”

The power drained further, and I realised I was able to see again. Walls of crystal clear ice glittered around me, ancient damned souls staring from the depths, long since entombed in the ice of Hell. As I stared up at the starless sky, three things occurred to me. One, as evidenced by a foot-shaped cave in front of me, I must be inside the hole left by one of Lucifer’s legs. Two, that Lucifer had left his chains behind in his escape. And three, that the lack of stars in the sky may be due to the miles of chains currently falling towards me.

A final chuckle slipped through the fading bridge to Lucifer. “Better start running.” Were his singsong final words before the connection fully slipped away.

I broke into a sprint, scrambling for the edge of the cave, for any chance at safety. Perhaps it was the panic, perhaps Hell itself just tries to make things unpleasant for its prisoners, but my foot slipped out behind me. As the last dregs of power slipped from me and my body skidded across the floor, a chain link the size of a school bus crashed into the ground, slowed only by my leg as it ground everything below my knee to a paste. I watched, helpless, as link after link piled on top of each other, each one sending a jolt of pain up my mangled leg.

Eventually, the sound of the falling chain ceased, and all that was left were my own screams and the memory of the final chuckle of the angel who had left me to die.

Or perhaps, even worse, to never be afforded such a reprieve.

#short story #crypto bro #lucifer #dante's inferno #I haven't done that much in writing an unlikable protagonist #it's a nice change #fuck this guy honestly

3 notes · View notes

psychewritesbs · 2 years

Text

Me, publicly: I’m going to re-read x/1999!

Me, behind the scenes: does not read x/1999 even tho I got two moots to read it. But goes and reads another shojo that ALSO happens to have rolling heads. Gotta love rolling heads in shojo manga.

Me, publicly, again: ok I’m going to commit to at least reading this one chapter:

Man. There’s something so beautiful about CLAMP 1990′s art and how it captures and depicts complex emotion.

Idk about you, random internet stranger who might happen to be reading this unless I'm literally talking into the void, but, Sometimes when I read CLAMP, panels shape-shift in front of my eyes.

Like is Kamui sad or is he innocent or is he beautiful or is he concerned? Or is he that and more all at the same time?

Idk, leave it to CLAMP.

Anyways. dumping all of the panels into one long thread like I do with my JJK liveblogs instead of making a hundred million posts.

Kamui doesn't know how to react to Sorata

Or at least it looks like that to me.

The truth is that Kamui was probably not used to dealing with people like Sorata or the other Seals. If I remember correctly, after Kotori and Fuuma, the kids he hung around in school sort of worshipped him for his strength and powers?

I truly don’t remember well but I got this sense that Kamui put up a front that very much matched that which they wanted to see from him--”yeah, watch me, I’m powerful”.

And it’s a kind of interesting detail about Kamui because people are constantly telling him things like “you don’t look like the Kamui” or “aren’t you too short/young to be the Kamui?” and “you can’t be the Kamui [because the idea I had of you does not match your actual behavior and personality]”.

And now here’s this super friendly guy who just won’t leave him alone no matter how much Kamui expresses his discontent. What’s more, the guy is professing to protect him while simultaneously commenting on his beauty and his height-- and he literally just met him.

So I liked seeing Kamui struggle to figure out how to relate to Sorata.

It’s kind of like the start of the thawing of Kamui’s heart and maybe perhaps what was the beginning of the train of thought that led to his choice to seek to protect the status quo. I like to think of Subaru as the one who came in and put the cherry on top.

Subaru

I know I said I was going to focus on Fuuma and Kamui on this re-read but I’m so ready to see Subaru and I’m sooooo annoyed that Sei and Subaru were the first to die in the x OVA.

Kamui’s mom

This is VERY relevant...

Idk it feels important but I'm not smart enough to try to unpack this because anything I come up with will be literal Bible and I feel like there’s so much more to Tooru than being an lesbian analogy to the Virgin Mary, so I’m moving on.

Mom is ded

Omg Kamui remembering his mom’s death... someone please just stab me already.

Someone bring him an emotional support Subaru stat, please it’s not just because I want to see him.

It must have been hard for Kamui to suddenly realize his spiritual lineage is special. I don’t remember well but it feels like mom kept him in the dark about a lot regarding his identity and I have to wonder why she did that.

Perhaps all the better to not meddle with the fate of the world? So that he might be in a position to decide for himself?

Anyways, I don’t think I ever noticed before just how pained and conflicted he is about his mother’s death. I mean... it’s kind of obvious he would be. It’s just that for someone who keeps a mask up that pushes people away...

In the end, Kamui betrays how tender and soft he really is and how important certain bonds are to him.

Yay Subaru!

This little breadcrumb will carry me through the Subaru drought for a bit.

The other day I was driving behind a Subaru SUV with custom license plates that said “SUB4E” and like... I legit wondered whether the driver was also a TBX fan.

This tho...

Did I already pass the chapter where it’s mentioned that Hinoto is the dream seer who pulls the strings behind the scenes?

I don’t think I thought about it before but Hinoto is sus for the obvious reasons. I don’t remember correctly, but is it the first time that her “shadow” self takes over? Or is this like a recurrent thing. Because of its recurrent...

Typical 90s CLAMP and their insane attention to detail.

CLAMPism is such a mood.

I love Sorata

and honestly the x OVA was such a disservice to his character. I feel like Madhouse tried to characterize him as hyper masculine when he’s perfectly masculine as he is in the manga.

More specifically I love CLAMP having Sorata ask for a receipt.

No one, I repeat, no one is above administrative tasks, not even spiritual warriors characterizing and dramatizing the battle for the end of the world.

The dreaming princess

There it is. The panel in question.

Anyways, it’s interesting because she sees the future, but she proves at least a couple of times that she only reveals what is convenient to steer the narrative in the direction of her goals thinking she can change the fate of the world.

But then she has Kanoe working against her, also trying to influence a specific outcome.

And like... who is to say that it isn’t fate that events are unfolding the way they are? With two parties acting in such a way as to alter the fate of the world.

x is so weird because it deals with the idea of fate being an inevitability, hitsuzen 必然 and yet how does anyone know what is fated when you have different parties with opposing goals trying to challenge fate.

In that sense x is very similar to trc since trc is basically a story about people trying to overcome fated events. And the whole idea of retrocausality through dream states is so...

Self-disclosure: every once in a while I dream about things that happen in the future. And it always feels like I break through the fabric of space time when it happens.

So the idea of receiving information about events that are to come and to act in such a way so as to altering how events unfold is all about creating a new node of destiny where events might unfold differently, but since it’s fate, it still manages to end the same way.

Ok that was my ramble on fate and destiny.

Next.

Uh...

Ok v get your mind out of the gutter.

How much should I trust her?

Not to get all Jungian but yes to get all Jungian, are you kidding me?, but the fact that she’s so “uwu pure” is kind of... yeah, no wonder she has a shadow self that takes over. I kind of wonder how it was created tho.

Like... was she evil pretending to be good and then all of a sudden she couldn’t tell when she was being good or when she was being evil? Or vice versa?

I’m using good and evil for lack of better terms because she’s sort of black and white.

But her uwu good girl act feels so cringe after you know that her mind is split.

uwu look at how tragic I look. I am so good and virtuous.

But Kamui’s totally not having it...

The sass...

The cattitude!

Perhaps I’m being a bit too distrustful of her. It’s just that for a clamp character she feels very polarized. She’s either good, or not so good. What’s more is that each facet takes a conscious life of its own and fights for dominance of her body.

But at the same time... if Sorata trusts her I’m more inclined to trust her too.

Sorata is incredibly perceptive. So he either got fooled or he can’t detect her split mind because she’s buried deep beneath Hinoto’s conscious mind. And it’s kind of interesting to think that when it comes to dreaming, your conscious mind is not necessarily in control but in an altered state.

So again, what is the origin of Hinoto’s split ego-mind?

I think this whole thing about Hinoto is that Kanoe is meant to look like she’s superficially “evil” (kind of like MKR’s Zagato), when she actually has selfish but well-meaning intentions.

Not Arashi side-eying Sorata

I see you girl.

Oh hey, it’s the Tokyo Revelations Arc

Ok but listen...

I may be thinking too much into it but I have to wonder how much CLAMP was really predicting the future with x.

I really feel like the collective energy focused on x created a tulpa and I wonder if they were aware of it and that’s why they put x in the corner.

Them four little Japanese witches know their magic symbols after all...

Fox News has nothing on CLAMP’s level of conspiracy theory.

It’s just that... 30 years later, idk why but x feels all the more relevant.

I just feel like the apocalypse isn’t necessarily a literal battle of epic proportions between good-looking people. But rather a process that we’re going through.

And maybe perhaps there’s a battle of good vs. evil that we don’t know is being waged because we’re so busy living our normal lives.

And at the helm of such a battle is everybody’s favorite kitten...

Anyone else seen Tenki no Ko (Weathering with You)? I feel like Shinkai uses the symbol of the dragon in a very similar way. Interestingly enough, weather is at the center of the conversation in that movie.

The node of destiny

Ok and this is where CLAMP gets super esoteric with the idea of different timelines..

And somehow we have all of these people who know what the future looks like, but again, which future are they seeing? in x, there’s 3-4 dreamseers who keep meddling with the timelines by foretelling events and acting to change them.

“uwu I don’t know what you’re talking about Kanoe, I’m totally not manipulating anything.”

Exactly.

Fuuma

Ah good boi Fuuma and his weird haircut.

Waking up to his fate.

I’m on camp good boi Fuuma is the same as bad boi Fuuma. So let’s watch him become bad boi Fuuma because good boi Fuuma doesn’t do it for me.

#x/1999 #x liveblog incoming

4 notes · View notes

gatekeeper-watchman · 11 months

Text

What the Bible Says about Self Worth

Self-Image, Self Confidence, Self Love: What the Bible Says about Self Worth

An Ordinary Daisy

From as far back as I can remember, I wanted to be extraordinary. I didn’t want to be just another person in the nameless mass of humanity. I wanted to stand out as someone who broke out of the prison that most of us are born into; the prison of such a short wisp of a life–gone almost before it starts, no remembrance of it when gone, and no lasting impression made while alive. I’m aware that many, if not most of us, face this same struggle. I don’t know if mine was more profound than most. I only know that it was a driving force of my existence from the time I was a young teenager.

When I gave my life to the Lord at age 18, this desire was automatically transferred into the kingdom of God. I was determined to not be an “ordinary Christian.” I was going to do outstanding things for God, at any personal cost or sacrifice. I would never, never be a mere pew warmer. In those years I was quite zealous for God, and on my college campus, I had a reputation (which I loved) of being “on fire for God.” I attended Christian meetings almost every night of the week, spent much time in prayer and reading the Bible, and shared the Gospel everywhere I went. My desire and love for the things of God were genuine. However, I did not see that lurking under the surface of my zeal was a deep insecurity that the enemy would try to use to destroy me.

Breaking Free from Proving My Worthiness, Insecurity, and Pride

I didn’t see that much of my so-called “fire” for God was just a fire for myself to be acceptable in my own eyes. I truly loved the Lord, but it would have shocked me if I could have seen back then (or probably even now!) how much of what I did for the Lord, was just for myself. I laughed at the Pharisees when I read how Jesus preached at them for doing what they did so men could see them and admire them. It never occurred to me that I might be in that category myself. No one likes to see the worst in themselves, and many times we are truly blinded to it. It takes the gentle work of the Holy Spirit, peeling away layers of pride, deception, sin, and insecurities for us to see ourselves as we are.

Since that time, God has led me through many things to break this deadly “religious spirit.” I don’t have time to share them all here, but I will say that the work has been sometimes painful, but always cleansing and freeing. Most of our striving is based on the simple fact that deep down inside we aren’t sure that anyone (least of all God) likes us for who we are–especially at our weakest and most horrible. Most of us can accept that He loves us because He is God, but we tend to look at it as a broad sort of “tough love”–He loves us, but is more saddened by us than anything, and tolerates us because of His goodness–but He doesn’t like us that much.

Recently, the Lord showed me in a beautiful way, how wrong we are to think this of Him. I was at a prophetic conference in Colorado with a dear friend of mine, and one of our assignments was to turn around to the person behind us (someone we did not know) and pray together, and then share what the Lord had shown us about each other. Needless to say, some were nervous that they wouldn’t “get anything” from God, but we all obeyed. The man who prayed with me began to share what he was seeing, and one of the words that he used was weed. For some reason, this sort of bothered me deep inside. A weed seemed so…ordinary, so weak and unimpressive. “Surely that wasn’t how God saw me, was it?” I exclaimed.

Later, as I shared the words that had been given to me and received, I didn’t mention Daisy at all, because I felt sort of ashamed about it. All I mentioned about it was that the man I prayed with had called me a weed.

On the next and final day of the conference, all the attendees were assigned to go to various “prophetic teams” of people who would pray and prophesy over us before we went home. As I was being prayed over, one of the ladies in the team said, “Lord, I see here a Daisy, and that there is something so special to you about Daisy's heart.” Again, I felt a slight flare of annoyance but ignored it, so I could “move on in the spirit” to everything else they were saying. Much of what was said ministered deeply to me, but as it turned out, nothing touched me more than the reference to Daisy.

The Simply Beauty God Sees in Us

Immediately after the prayer, I was walking to meet my friend, and I heard the voice of God speak clearly to my heart. “Mercy, why do you love Daisies so much?” This surprised me. This may seem unbelievable, but right up until that very moment, I had forgotten how much I genuinely love Daisies! “Well, they just cheer me up I guess,” I said to the Lord. “I like them because of their simple beauty. They aren’t overblown or pretentious. They seem clean and pure and wholesome and real. They just make me smile. I guess I can’t explain all the reasons why I’m attracted to them–I just am.” Immediately, I began to cry, as I realized what the Lord was trying to show me.

It is often said that the hardest person to live with and love unconditionally is ourselves. Yet, I believe that just as we are attracted to things like Daises, so God made us be attracted to ourselves as well–and I am not talking about vain narcissism or arrogant pride. These are Satan’s counterfeits for this truth of God. His ways breed envy and disdain for our fellow man. God’s ways, however, release us to find joy in being just who He created us to be — a unique reflection of His image. When this work is completed in us, we can truly rejoice at the marvelous things He has done in others without feeling the slightest twinge of envy, competition, or inferiority.

Could it be that many of us would like ourselves a whole lot more if we weren’t so busy trying to impress ourselves and others, trying to create another persona that we feel more comfortable in? Could it be that if we would simply let God be Himself in us, we might like the person that emerges–that hidden, weak, scared side of us that we try to keep stuff away from prying eyes? In that area of our being (even in the most humiliating part of it) lies a precious seed planted by God. God wants to breathe on it and cause supernatural life to grow from that place that we hate the most. This is where He will bring forth the greatest beauty in us–if we will let Him. All it takes is bravery; which is another word for faith. This He gives freely and abundantly to all who call on Him in truth.

Whether we ever make the history books of this world is of very little consequence. The records that are kept by man are incomplete and biased anyway. We all remember things differently from each other, and couldn’t possibly do justice to even one life, let alone the billions of people that have lived on this planet. However, there is a Book that has recorded every one of our lives–a History Book kept by the only One who sees everything that happened and who is impartial in His records. In His Book, no one is overlooked or forgotten, regardless of the importance of their life on earth. We may weep over injustice in human history and our fears of being forgotten, but I tell you that with God there is no such thing. A Day of Reckoning is coming — and on that day, all of history will be judged by the only One who can judge it righteously and mercifully.

Anyone can do “good deeds” but they do not necessarily justify us in God’s eyes, or win His heart. The Pharisees are proof of that. What He wants from us is honesty and humility. Our own “righteous actions” can never cover the nakedness of that part of us that we are ashamed and embarrassed about. We may feel that we haven’t done anything worthwhile and that we aren’t very high up on God’s list of important things to do, and if we only become a better Christians, He will love us more — but that is a lie straight from hell. Of course, God wants all of us to mature in faith and to do the works He did–but the purpose of all of this is so that each one of us can become a friend of God. Friendship with God should be our goal, not great works to do for Him. If we are His friend, great works will follow, simply born out of a loving relationship with Him. Our work won’t make us proud of ourselves, either. They will make us proud of Him!

I know I still have a way to go, in letting God transform my old ways of thinking and acting. I realize an important key is to not become absorbed in myself–my strengths and weaknesses, but rather, to become absorbed in Him. Where does healing come from? Where is the fountain of life that washes away all that smells of death and despair? If the world knew, how they would run to it? If the Church knew, oh how we would run to it!

I have no fancy answer to finding that healing River. The Bible says that if we believe in Him, it is flowing from our innermost being. The Bible says that it is already there! The river is all that we need. It may come manifested in healing words spoken to us by a brother or sister in the Lord. It may come from many different sources, one of the greatest is to love and pray for those around us (even those we have a problem with) the way we would like to be loved and prayed for. But most of all, it will come from one place; the Secret Place of the Highest. If you have never been to a secret place with Him–or if it has been many years, ask God to take you there, just as you are. His spirit will wash you and make you beautiful in His eyes. The more of your sin that you recognize and repent of, the more room you will have for Him in your heart — and this is something that you can never be worthy of. All He wants is for you to accept it and take the time to dwell in it. This is an act of His grace and love to you–little ordinary you. Weak and unspectacular as you are, He loves you far more than you can begin to imagine. Your life has been written in God’s History Book, and if you seek Him with all your heart, the story of your life will be one of beauty, strength, and grace.

From: Steven P. Miller @ParkermillerQ, Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Groups Thursday, May 25, 2023, Jacksonville, Florida., Duval County, USA. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/Sparkermiller.JAX.FL.USA, https://www.facebook.com/StevenParkerMillerQ Instagram: steven_parker_miller_1956, Twitter: @GatekeeperWatchman1, @ParkermillerQ, https://twitter.com/StevenPMiller6 Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gatekeeperwatchman, https://www.tumblr.com/gatekeeper-watchman, https://www.pinterest.com/GatekeeperWatchman1/ #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO, #Ephraim1, #IAM, #Sparkermiller, #Eldermiller1981

0 notes

johnnyrobish · 11 months

Text

Republicans Moving on From Book Banning to Jailing Librarians

The Washington Post reports that while Republicans claim they only want to keep “harmful” material away from children, new state laws are quickly being passed in Red States that will permit criminal prosecution of school and library personnel. So far, at least seven states have passed such laws, with 12 more considering similar “Thought Police" crackdowns where librarians could face years of imprisonment and tens of thousands in fines for simply having books someone considered to be “obscene” or “harmful” to children on their shelves.

Of course, when Repubs say they “want to keep ‘harmful’ material away from children,” that wouldn’t include guns. Let us not forget that in this country - school children have a “God-Given Right” to die in a mass shooting. Why in 2022 alone, we had approximately 650 mass shootings, with more than 44,000 people dying from gun violence overall. Well, Republicans aren’t dumb and immediately concluded that means they had better start passing laws to protect children from librarians, history books, and Drag Queens. Because nothing says “freedom” like being able to jail librarians over books that you’ve probably never even read.

Take, for example, Republican Gov. Kristi Noem of South Dakota, who recently bragged about buying a firearm for her infant granddaughter, who is actually under 2 years old. And let’s not forget Republican congressmen and women regularly send out Christmas cards with both they and their young children gripping assault rifles. But books - yeah, they’re dangerous as hell! After all, one never knows when a history book might accidentally “go off” and take out an entire classroom. Not to mention that everyone knows what a wild, crazy bunch those librarians are. Talk about out-of-control party animals.

The truth is, Republicans don’t want kids or constituents to read - period. That’s why they constantly attack teachers and cut funding for education. Oh sure, Republicans say they’re just protecting kids from "obscene" books in school libraries - meanwhile, these same kids are getting all the porn they want - right off their cellphones. Or, even from the Bible, with passages like “There she lusted after her lovers, whose genitals were like those of donkeys and whose emission was like that of horses. So you longed for the lewdness of your youth when in Egypt your bosom was caressed and your young breasts fondled” - Ezekiel 23:20:21. Hell, I don’t think even Pornhub could’ve come up with a scenario that racy.

You see, what Republicans really fear is not children being exposed to obscenity, but children developing empathy and sympathy for others who may be different than the folks who Republicans value. That’s right, the folks these fascists continually use as scapegoats for all society’s ills - ills that were basically created by conservative policies designed to protect the wealthy and privileged at the expense of the middle and working classes. So, looking for distractions, they’re coming after women, LBGTQs, doctors, books, educators, librarians - even Mickey Mouse. Now, you can call me crazy, but I’m getting the impression its not books or librarians who are posing the real threat here.

If you’ve enjoyed what you’ve just read, please consider joining me at:

#humor #satire #politics #comedy #news #current events #progressives #religion #Book Banning #librarians

1 note · View note

testudoaubrei-blog · 3 years

Text

Content note for discussions of eternal damnation, and all sorts of other shit that will trigger a lot of folks with religious trauma.

Before I get started I might as well explain where I’m coming from - unlike a lot of She-Ra fans, and a lot of queer people, I don’t have much religious trauma, or any, maybe (okay there were a number of years I was convinced I was going to hell, but that happens to everyone, right?). I was raised a liberal Christian by liberal Christian parents in the Episcopal Church, where most of my memories are overwhelmingly positive. Fuck, growing up in the 90’s, Chuch was probably the only place outside my home I didn’t have homophobia spewed at me. Because it was the 90’s and it was a fucking hellscape of bigotry where 5 year olds knew enough to taunt each other with homophobic slurs and the adults didn’t know enough to realize how fucked up that was. Anyway. This is my experience, but it is an atypical one, and I know it. Quite frankly I know that my experience of Christianity has very little at all to do with what most people experienced, or what people generally mean when they talk about Christianity as a cultural force in America today. So if you were raised Christian and you don’t recognize your theology here, congrats, neither do I, but these ideas and cultural forces are huge and powerful and dominant. And it’s this dominant Christian narrative that I’m referring to in this post. As well as, you know, a children’s cartoon about lesbian rainbow princesses. So here it goes. This is going to get batshit.

"All events whatsoever are governed by the secret counsel of God." - John Calvin

“We’re all just a bunch of wooly guys” - Noelle Stevenson

This is a post triggered by a single scene, and a single line. It’s one of the most fucked-up scenes in She-Ra, toward the end of Save the Cat. Catra, turned into a puppet by Prime, struggles with her chip, desperately trying to gain control of herself, so lost and scared and vulnerable that she flings aside her own death wish and her pride and tearfully begs Adora to rescue her. Adora reaches out , about to grab her, and then Prime takes control back, pronounces ‘disappointing’ and activates the kill switch that pitches Catra off the platform and to her death (and seriously, she dies here, guys - also Adora breaks both her legs in the fall). But before he does, he dismisses Catra with one of his most chilling lines. “Some creatures are meant only for destruction.”

And that’s when everyone watching probably had their heart broken a little bit, but some of the viewers raised in or around Christianity watching the same scene probably whispered ‘holy shit’ to themselves. Because Prime’s line - which works as a chilling and callous dismissal of Catra - is also an allusion to a passage from the Bible. In fact, it’s from one of the most fucked up passages in a book with more than its share of fucked up passages. It’s from Romans 9:22, and I’m going to quote several previous verses to give the context of the passage (if not the entire Epistle, which is more about who needs to abide by Jewish dietary restrictions but was used to construct a systematic theology in the centuries afterwards because people decided it was Eternal Truth).

19 Thou wilt say then unto me, Why doth he yet find fault? For who hath resisted his will?

20 Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?

21 Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?

22 What if God, willing to shew his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction:

The context of the allusion supports the context in the show. Prime is dismissing Catra - serial betrayer, liar, failed conqueror, former bloody-handed warlord - as worthless, as having always been worthless and fit only to be destroyed. He is speaking from a divine and authoritative perspective (because he really does think he’s God, more of this in my TL/DR Horde Prime thing). Prime is echoing not only his own haughty dismissal of Catra, and Shadow Weaver’s view of her, but also perhaps the viewer’s harshest assessment of her, and her own worst fears about herself. Catra was bad from the start, doomed to destroy and to be destroyed. A malformed pot, cracked in firing, destined to be shattered against a wall and have her shards classified by some future archaeologist 2,000 years later. And all that’s bad enough.

But the full historical and theological context of this passage shows the real depth of Noelle Stevenson’s passion and thought and care when writing this show. Noelle was raised in Evangelical or Fundamentalist Christianity. To my knowledge, he has never specified what sect or denomination, but in interviews and her memoir Noelle has shown a particular concern for questions that this passage raises, and a particular loathing for the strains of Protestant theology that take this passage and run with it - that is to say, Calvinism. So while I’m not sure if Noelle was raised as a conservative, Calvinist Presbyterian, his preoccupation with these questions mean that it’s time to talk about Calvinism.

It would be unfair, perhaps, to say that Calvinism is a systematic theology built entirely upon the Epistles of Romans and Galatians, but only -just- (and here my Catholic readers in particular will chuckle to themselves and lovingly stroke their favorite passage of the Epistle of James). The core of Calvinist Doctrine is often expressed by the very Dutch acronym TULIP:

Total Depravity - people are wholly evil, and incapable of good action or even willing good thoughts or deeds

Unconditional Election - God chooses some people to save because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, not because they did anything to deserve, trigger or accept it

Limited Atonement - Jesus died only to save the people God chose to save, not the rest of us bastards

Irresistible Grace - God chooses some people to be saved - if you didn’t want to be saved, too bad, God said so.

Perseverance of the Saints - People often forget this one and assume it’s ‘predestination’ but it’s actually this - basically, once saved by God, always saved, and if it looks like someone falls out of grace, they were never saved to begin with. Well that’s all sealed up tight I guess.

Reading through these, predestination isn’t a single doctrine in Calvinism but the entire theological underpinnings of it together with humanity’s utter powerlessness before sin. Basically God has all agency, humanity has none. Calvinism (and a lot of early modern Protestantism) is obsessed with questions of how God saves people (grace alone, AKA Sola Fides) and who God saves (the people god elects and only the people God elects, and fuck everyone else).

It’s apparent that Noelle was really taken by these questions, and repelled by the answers he heard. He’s alluded to having a tattoo refuting the Gospel passage about Sheep and Goats being sorted at the end times, affirming instead that ‘we’re all just a bunch of wooly guys’ (you can see this goat tattoo in some of his self-portraits in comics, etc). He’s also mentioned that rejecting and subverting destiny is a huge part of everything he writes as a particular rejection of the idea that some individual people are 'chosen' by God or that God has a plan for any of us. You can see that -so clearly- in Adora’s arc, where Adora embraces and then rejects destiny time and again and finally learns to live life for herself.

But for Catra, we’re much more concerned about the most negative aspect of this - the idea that some people are vessels meant for destruction. And that’s something else that Noelle is preoccupied with. In her memoir in the section about leaving the church and becoming a humanistic atheist, there is a drawing of a pot and the question ‘Am I a vessel prepared for destruction?’ Obviously this was on Noelle’s mind (And this is before he came out to himself as queer!).

To look at how this question plays out in Catra’s entire arc, let’s first talk about how ideas of damnation and salvation actually play out in society. And for that I’m going to plug one of my favorite books, Gin Lun’s Damned Nation: Hell in America from the Revolution to Reconstruction (if you can tell by now, I am a fucking blast at parties). Lun tells the long and very interesting story about, how ideas of hell and who went there changed during the Early American Republic. One of the interesting developments that she talks about is how while at first people who were repelled by Calvinism started moving toward a doctrine of universal salvation (no on goes to hell, at least not forever*), eventually they decided that hell was fine as long as only the right kind of people went there. Mostly The Other - non-Christian foreigners, Catholics, Atheists, people who were sinners in ways that were not just bad but weird and violated Victorian ideas of respectability. Really, Hell became a way of othering people, and arguably that’s how it survives today, especially as a way to other queer people (but expanding this is slated for my Montero rant). Now while a lot of people were consciously rejecting Calvinist predestination, they were still drawing the distinction between the Elect (good, saved, worthwhile) and the everyone else (bad, damned, worthless). I would argue that secularized ideas of this survive to this day even among non-Christian spaces in our society - we like to draw lines between those who Elect, and those who aren’t.

And that’s what brings us back to Catra. Because Catra’s entire arc is a refutation of the idea that some people are worthless and irredeemable, either by nature, nurture or their own actions. Catra’s actions strain the conventions of who is sympathetic in a Kid’s cartoon - I’ve half joked that she’s Walter White as a cat girl, and it’s only half a joke. She’s cruel, self-deluded, she spends 4 seasons refusing to take responsibility for anything she does and until Season 5 she just about always chooses the thing that does the most damage to herself and others. As I mentioned in my Catra rant, the show goes out of its way to demonstrate that Catra is morally culpable in every step of her descent into evil (except maybe her break with reality just before she pulls the lever). The way that Catra personally betrays everyone around her, the way she strips herself of all of her better qualities and most of what makes her human, hell even her costume changes would signal in any other show that she’s irredeemable.

It’s tempting to see this as Noelle’s version of being edgy - pushing the boundaries of what a sympathetic character is, throwing out antiheroics in favor of just making the villain a protagonist. Noelle isn’t quite Alex ‘I am in the business of traumatizing children’ Hirsch, who seems to have viewed his job as pushing the bounds of what you could show on the Disney Channel (I saw Gravity Falls as an adult and a bunch of that shit lives rent free in my nightmares forever), but Noelle has his own dark side, mostly thematically. The show’s willingness to deal with abuse, and messed up religious themes, and volatile, passionate, not particularly healthy relationships feels pretty daring. I’m not joking when I gleefully recommend this show to friends as ‘a couple from a Mountain Goats Song fights for four seasons in a cartoon intended for 9 year olds’. Noelle is in his own way pushing the boundaries of what a kids show can do. If you read Noelle’s other works like Nimona, you see an argument for Noelle being at least a bit edgy. Nimona is also angry, gleefully destructive, violent and spiteful - not unlike Catra. Given that it was a 2010s webcomic and not a kids show, Nimona is a good deal worse than Catra in some ways - Catra doesn’t kill people on screen, while Nimona laughs about it (that was just like, a webcomic thing - one of the fan favorite characters in my personal favorite, Narbonic, was a fucking sociopath, and the heroes were all amoral mad scientists, except for the superintelligent gerbil**). But unlike Nimona, whose fate is left open ended, Catra is redeemed.

And that is weird. We’ve had redemption arcs, but generally not of characters with -so- much vile stuff in their history. Going back to the comparison between her and Azula, many other shows, like Avatar, would have made Catra a semi-sympathetic villain who has a sob-story in their origin but who is beyond redemption, and in so doing would articulate a kind of psychologized Calvinism where some people are too traumatized to ever be fully and truly human. I’d argue this is the problem with Azula as a character - she’s a fun villain, but she doesn’t have moral agency, and the ultimate message of her arc - that she’s a broken person destined only to hurt people - is actually pretty fucked up. And that’s the origin story of so many serial killers and psycopaths that populate so many TV shows and movies. Beyond ‘hurt people hurt people’ they have nothing to teach us except perhaps that trauma makes you a monster and that the only possible response to people doing bad things is to cut them out of your life and out of our society (and that’s why we have prisons, right?)

And so Catra’s redemption and the depths from which she claws herself back goes back to Noelle’s desire to prove that no person is a vessel ‘fitted for destruction.’ Catra goes about as far down the path of evil as we’ve ever seen a protagonist in a kids show go, and she still has the capacity for good. Importantly, she is not subject to total depravity - she is capable of a good act, if only one at first. Catra is the one who begins her own redemption (unlike in Calvinism, where grace is unearned and even unwelcomed) - because she wants something better than what she has, even if its too late, because she realizes that she never wanted any of this anyway, because she wants to do one good thing once in her life even if it kills her.

The very extremity of Catra’s descent into villainy serves to underline the point that Noelle is trying to make - that no one can be written off completely, that everyone is capable of change, and that no human being is garbage, no matter how twisted they’ve become. Meanwhile her ability to set her own redemption in motion is a powerful statement of human agency, and healing, and a refutation of Calvinism’s idea that we are powerless before sin or pop cultural tropes about us being powerful before the traumas of our upbringing. Catra’s arc, then, is a kind of anti-Calvinist theological statement - about the nature of people and the nature of goodness.

Now, there is a darker side to this that Noelle has only hinted at, but which is suggested by other characters on the show. Because while Catra’s redemption shows that people are capable of change, even when they’ve done horrible things, been fucked up and fucked themselves up, it also illustrates the things people do to themselves that make change hard. As I mentioned in my Catra rant, two of the most sinister parts of her descent into villainy are her self-dehumanization (crushing her own compassion and desire to do good) and her rewriting of her own history in her speech and memory to make her own actions seem justified (which we see with her insistence that Adora left her, eliding Adora’s offers to have Catra join her, or her even more clearly false insistence that Entrapta had betrayed them). In Catra, these processes keep her going down the path of evil, and allow her to nearly destroy herself and everyone else. But we can see the same processes at work in two much darker figures - Shadow Weaver and Horde Prime. These are both rants for another day, but the completeness of Shadow Weaver’s narcissistic self-justification and cultivated callousness and the even more complete narcissism of Prime’s god complex cut both characters off from everyone around them. Perhaps, in a theoretical sense, they are still redeemable, but for narrative purposes they might as well be damned.

This willingness to show a case where someone -isn’t- redeemed actually serves to make Catra’s redemption more believable, especially since Noelle and the writers draw the distinction between how Catra and SW/Prime can relate to reality and other people, not how broken they are by their trauma (unlike Zuko and Azula, who are differentiated by How Fucked Uolp They Are). Redemption is there, it’s an option, we can always do what is right, but someone people will choose not to, in part because doing the right thing involves opening ourselves to the world and others, and thus being vulnerable. Noelle mentions this offhandedly in an interview after Season 1 with the She-Ra Progressive of Power podcast - “I sometimes think that shades of grey, sympathetic villains are part of the escapist fantasy of shows like this.” Because in the real world, some people are just bastards, a point that was particularly clear in 2017. Prime and Shadow Weaver admit this reality, while Catra makes a philosophical point that even the bastards can change their ways (at least in theory).

*An idea first proposed in the second century by Origen, who’s a trip and a fucking half by himself, and an idea that becomes the Catholic doctrine of purgatory, which protestants vehemently denied!

**Speaking of favorite Noelle tropes

#she ra horde prime #she ra #she ra catra #she ra spoilers #redemption arcs #toxic religion

222 notes · View notes

marigoldwitch · 3 years

Text

Let’s Talk About Elitism in the Witchcraft Community

It always seems to come back to this but I want to talk about witches in the community who give confusing, and often times misguided, advice to new comers in an attempt to separate themselves from the “soft” or “baby” practitioners.

I’m on witchtok (a community on an app called TikTok, in case you were unaware of what I’m talking about) alot and there’s something I noticed about the witches there; something I’m sure alot of you have noticed too. There’s 2 major groups of witches on the app. The ones who post “easy” and “simple” spells and information, and the ones who post up reactionary spells and information.

There seems to be this need for witches who feel better than or more educated (in their opinion) to posts videos in response to or in direct opposition of other witches. Usually these other witches are seen as newbies to the craft. And if they aren’t new (as in they’ve been practicing for a while) they’re considered uneducated or unwilling to learn.

The “why aren’t witches reading books anymore?” and “I think it’s them being more worried about aesthetics than actually learning.” comments are frustrating and reveals a huge disconnect and sense of privilege within our community. I’ve also seen comments / videos specifically criticizing the popularity of spell jars in recent years. The funniest thing though is that a lot of them are suggesting doing charm bags instead... as if that’s not just another form of a spell jar.. except it’s in a bag... not a jar :/ They want so badly to be “other” and “better” that they’re actually giving advice that’s basically saying “hey instead of using X container to hold your spell, have you tried using Y container instead?? If you read books and not just get your info from Tik Tok blah blah blah.” As if they’ve suggested something grand or much different than what someone is already doing.

Let’s Talk Privilege

First lets be clear that privilege doesn’t mean you haven’t had “hard times” in your life. And being privileged in one way doesn’t make you privilege in every aspect. You can have class privilege while also experiencing hardship in relation to another aspect of your life. I am white, I have white privilege. I’m also a poor high school drop out. Which means I don’t have class privilege. It’s important that I make this clear because I know some people are gonna identify in someway with one or more of the under privileged groups that I’ll be talking about and that’s normal. That doesn’t mean that you can’t also identify in someway with one or more of the privileged groups that I’ll be talking about.

Why don’t you just read more books? / Why don’t you just experiment with more tools, supplies and options like crystals, candles, herbs, tarot etc? / Why don’t you just invest in better tools and supplies?

This falls under class privilege. Not everyone can afford to spend money on these things. “Well the library is free” not everyone can afford to spend time on these things. And I know, to someone who has the money and has the time, these sound like excuses to just not work “hard enough” (which we’ll get into why this statement is ablest in a minute) but it’s legit the reality for a lot of people. Let’s also remember that public libraries in underfunded poorer communities are.. well under funded and don’t offer the same selection that a well funded library would. Also the cost of going to and from that library (or a much better one with a better selection). Personally, I live in what is known as the bible belt and my local (underfunded) library has 5 books on witchcraft. 3 are reference books and can not actually be checked out. The other 2 require a 10 dollar deposit to check out. I kid you not. You have to pay to check out those books.

I saw a comment that said “crystal grids and crystal magic is very beginner friendly and easy, why don’t more witches do this?” And I want to shake them and scream “crystals cost money you doodoo head!!” LOL.

Supplies and tools are expensive. Yes, there’s plenty of information online about how to use what you have on hand... and those same witches sharing cheap and easy alternatives to supplies and tools are also sharing cheap and easy alternatives to spells and rituals. Hence how spell jars became so popular.

“They just don’t want to put in the effort” / “They aren’t working hard enough” / “They’re just in it for the aesthetics”

This falls under ableism. 1. Expecting other witches to match your energy and effort is hella ablest and you should stop. Not only is it unrealistic to assume we’re all on the same page, it’s unhealthy to project your own expectations on to {most likely} complete strangers just because you share one interest [witchcraft] with them. 2. Some people are visual practitioners (whether they’re ND or not) and so they need to and work better with seeing what they’re doing. It’s obvious that the type of witchcraft lots of ND people use is the type that is overly criticized in our community. (ND = Neurodivergent)

Physical disability is also something to keep in mind. Not everyone is physical able to do all the things you can do. Personally I experience hand tremors. Basically using an herb bundle to do a smoke cleansing is a huge ass mess for me and is more headache than it’s worth. So I opt out of smoking cleansing that way. It doesn’t mean that I’m not trying hard enough or that I’m not putting in the effort to make it work... it means I have a disability that makes it more difficult and I’ve found other ways to do these cleanses.

Also, witches are allowed to like pretty things. Like pretty things and valuing the beauty in your practice is all perfectly fine. There’s nothing wrong with wanting your space, yourself or your practice to look “pretty.”

I Need To Mention Cultural Awareness

Another reason something might not make sense to you is because it isn’t for you, literally it has nothing to do with you or your practice and so you’ve chosen to put it down rather than mind your business. That’s really all I can say about this as I practice a fairly common form of folk magic and the practice, as well as the culture in which it’s derived from is open. So there’s nothing I do that’s really considered for specific cultures only. I’d rather someone else with more experience talk about this in more detail.

Misguided Information and Superiority Complex

When sharing information and experiences it’s probably better to do so without needing it to be in reaction to someone else’s information and experiences. I don’t think there is anything wrong with sharing other forms of magic or witchcraft. I think most of us want as much information to be as easily accessible for as many people as possible. The issue comes from only sharing this information and experience because you think the oppositions is/are wrong. Not because you want the help people learn. And actively putting down certain information because it was shared via social media, while also insisting that your information is the actual correct information.. while also sharing it on the same social media platform.

“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet.... except me. You can believe me.” Is what it feels like. And I think what gets to me the most is the amount of UPG that is sprinkled into a lot of the information that these “I know better” witches share. Thinking you know better or know more because you’ve been doing it longer or doing it different, doesn’t actually mean you do.

I’ve said this before: No one is sharing their entire practice online

“Why are you only doing spell jars?” why do you assume that the only time they practice witchcraft is for a video / photo that they post online?

Better yet, why are you demanding they share more than they’re comfortable with sharing? Why do you feel entitled to know everything about their practice?

Just because a witch’s Tik Tok, Instagram, Tumblr etc is only filled with pretty spell jars and aesthetic photos of teas, doesn’t mean that’s their entire practice. That’s the part they’re willing to share with the world. And even if it was their entire practice, why do you care? Why is it your business? When did they ask you to tell them what you thought of their practice?

In conclusion

Before you make that post or make that video about how X witches aren’t doing Y thing right because I did it Z way, remember we’re all different. Times change. And something being popular doesn’t mean it’s not effective or useful. Something being mainstream doesn’t make it bad or stupid. And witchcraft becoming more and more modernized doesn’t mean it’s losing it’s roots or that the next generation of witches are gonna be “sissy babies with nothing but a bunch of pretty jars.” and even if they are, it’s non of your business.

#witchblr #witches #witchcraft #witches of tumblr #witchy #magic

186 notes · View notes

joanna-olson · 3 years

Text

So, I've wanted to write this fic for ages, but I've had this massive case of writers block, so I'll just throw this headcanon out there.

We all know that Billy's mom left him with Neil, because she too was abused. And Billy hasn't had any contact with her ever since, probably because Neil prevented any form of contact. Billy is not bitter that his mom left, on the contrary, he understands why she did. As he's getting older and more often than not becomes the target of Neils rage, he dreams up a world where his mom comes to his rescue and love him unconditionally, as a mother should. Of course that never happens, but Billy still has this idolized image of his mom.

Fast forward to when Billy is in his early twenties. He is living in Chicago with Steve, they both have worked on their shit and they are happy with the live they've built together. One day a letter arrives from someone Billy doesn't recognize immediately. When he reads it he is thrown into a spiral of shock, surprise, happyness and uncertainty. It's from his mom. After all these years she's found him and wants to reconnect. She explains that she struggled financially and with her mental health after she left, that Neil prevented her from contacting him and that she didn't know how to find him again once she figured her live out.

Billy spirals emotionally. This is what he's been waiting for for years, but now that it happened, he doesn't know how to handle it. With some encouragement from Steve he writes back. They write back and forth and start talking on the phone. Billy learns that his mom lives in a small town in Texas now and that she's married to a widowed pastor now. She tells him about her five stepchildren and that she doesn't have anymore children of her own. Billy tells her a bit about Hawkins (the bits he can) and his live in Chicago. He doesn't mention Steve.

After a a few months of phone calls and letters, his mom flies to Chicago, so they can finally meet in person again. Billy is nervous as hell. He can't sit still on the days leading up to the meeting and smokes more than he usually does. They meet at a small coffeeshop in town and after an awkward moment his mom pulls him into a long and tight hug and Billy relaxes. They talk a lot and spend the day walking around town. Billy is happy and feels all warm and loved. His dream came true, his mother is back in his live and she's showering him with love.

They have dinner at a small and cozy pizza place. Over dessert his mom smiles at him and asks the question Billy has been nervous to answer. "So, tell me, Billy, is there a special Lady in your live?" And Billy is silent for a moment. He knows that attitudes towards gay people aren't to favorably and Steve and him usually don't really talk about their relationship unless they are among friends. But this is his mom who's smiling at him warmly from across the table. His mom, who he remembers to be a bit of a free spirit from when he was a child. His mom, who is the polar opposite of Neil, so surely she will understand. So he tells her. "Actually there is someone. His name is Steve." He holds his breath as he watches her reaction. He doesn't really expect what happens next. The smile falls from her face and her expression freezes for a moment. After a few heartbeats she tries to smile again, but it looks pained. She says "Oh, really?" and tries to change the subject. But they don't get back into the easy conversation. It's as if the mention of Steve's name and the reality of their relationship hangs like a shadow between them. His mom asks some awkward queations Billy is pretty sure she doesn't want to hear the answer to. Soon after she tells him that it was already late and she was tired.

So they pay and she's saying a hasty goodbye and leaves. No hug, no warm smile. Billy is shattered. The walk home is the longest he ever took. Steve is there when he comes home. He smiles and asks how it's been, but shuts up as soon as he sees Billys face. He's there in a heartbeat and pulls Billy into a hug. Billy can't help it, he starts crying. Steve is there and holds him tight. They don't talk about it that night, Billy can't. He just cries into Steves shoulder until they both fall asleep late at night.

Billy and his mom had made plans to meet again the following day, but Billy doesn't hear from her on that day or the days after. He feels hurt and betrayed, but there's this voice in his head, that sounds suspiciously like Neil's that whispers to him. "What did you expect? Nobody could love someone like you."

About two weeks go by until another letter arrives. Billy puts off reading it until Steve opens it for him, so he has to. His mother apologizes but tells him she can't let him into her or her new family's live until he "repents from his sinful ways." There are bible quotes, some of them in a different handwriting (Billy guesses her husband's) and parts that read more like a sermon. There's also a brochure for a camp that could help him "finding his way back into gods light."

Billy is gutted but he had already expected something like this. Still holding the letter and reading his mothers words hurts like hell. Steve holds his hand while he's reading the letter and pulls him into another hug when he's done. Billy doesn't cry this time but falls into a stoic silence. It's a sobering realization that even his mother's love was conditional.

They burn the letter and the brochure on their stovetop. Afterwards Steve cooks them pasta and just chats away. Billy listens to him and even laughs a few times at the stupid things he says. They sit on the couch and watch TV while they eat.

"You know we should invite Joyce and Hopper for a few days." Steve says after they sat in silence for a while. "Will's looking into going to College here. We could show them around a bit." Billy knows that they don't really need to show Joyce, Hopper and Will around Chicago, they had been visiting them quite a bit over the last few years. But as he looks into Steve's big brown eyes, that are so full of love and warmth, he understands why. His own family may not love him and reject him, but he had built another family with Steve and the gang of nerds he'd driven around since they were pre-teens. Hopper who was grumpy and and constantly annoyed, but was always there with a word of advice over a cold beer when he needed it. And Joyce who was more of a mother to all of them than his own mother could ever be. Heck, even Nancy and Jonathan who they didn't see that often anymore but who they'd call every other week or so. Billy felt warmth in his broken heart, mending the cracks and filling him with love.

So he said "Sure, why not?", and smiled at Steve. Steve smiled back and pulled Billy in a soft and gentle kiss. This, Billy thought, was what real love felt like. This was home.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy's mom #i might still turn this into a proper fic #but probably not too soon #anyways #i've made myself sad a little so i had to go all fluffy at the end #i love the found family trope #also i've read many headcanons that billy's mom was this loving mother who would accept billy #and i love that a lot #but i also wanted to explore the idea of her not being that

98 notes · View notes

hadtochangemyurlquick · 3 years

Note

can u write more leachel please

no but i can fuck ur bitch

Leah’s first public reading was not packed. Of course, the seven of them all filed into front row seats and of course her parents, grandparents, Ian, and most of her teachers were scattered throughout the audience. Even Emily, her friend from middle school who she hadn’t really talked to since she went to private school, showed up. It was a sweet gesture but beyond the people who knew Leah personally, only around fifty or so were actual fans. It was fine and Leah did an amazing talk and afterwards Rachel slapped her hand against her thigh, wishing she could actually clap.

Leah’s tenth public reading was standing room only.

The National book festival was held once a year in DC and while there were two panels Leah was put on, they also asked her to do her own talk because she had a new book coming out. It’d been called by the New York Times book review “the most anticipated book of the year!” And Rachel had only been allowed to read the first draft of the first chapter, which was slightly killing her. But her girlfriend had a process, even if that process was to solely talk to Nora about it. Nora and sometimes Toni.

When Leah walked onto the slightly raised platform the entire room erupted into applause. It was a standing ovation and Leah looked beautiful and also incredibly embarrassed. Her eyes found Rachel’s immediately and they were so fucking intense, Rachel just wanted her to keep looking at her forever. Forever and a half.

“Wow,” Leah began when she reached her microphone. “I haven’t even said anything yet.” There was laughter, more cheers, gradually people sat down. “Thank you all for coming, I know there’s some pretty amazing panels going on right now. There’s still time to go to Roxanne Gay’s talk, it’s a few rooms down.”

More laughter, more cheers, a “We love you Leah Rilke!”

Rachel shook her head, smiling. Leah could pretend all she wanted, but Rachel saw what was happening. The entire world was slowly coming to life under her touch. The English language was being shaped to fit Leah Rilke.

Every think piece, ever op-ed, every review, mentioned the words Leah Rilke somewhere in there. Every teenage girl was talking about her like they’d talk about the Bible. TV studios and movie execs sat in rooms and discussed about how they could capture her writing style. Publishing houses wanted to find their very own Leah Rilke. Tattoo artists were adding to their pre drawn collections symbols from her books.

It was happening slowly, a little at a time, but time happened all at once. And history textbooks were being printed in Texas for the year 2032 that had an entire chapter about Leah Rilke.

The world was changing, and for the next half-century it’d be one where Leah Rilke was alive. And after, it’d be one where everyone was looking for the next Leah Rilke, however futile.

Leah didn’t see it, but Rachel could. And Nora. They talked about it sometimes, when a Dolly Parton song came on or Tolkien happened to come up in conversation.

“I’m not really afraid of public speaking,” Leah continued. “But can you all look somewhere else for a minute? I just need a break, I feel like you all are staring.”

There was more laughter and Rachel felt her phone buzz. Her eyebrow furrowed and she ignored it, instead focusing on the woman wearing her engagement ring.

It’d taken her a minute to propose, insecurities thriving with Leah off giving talks or going to conventions like this one. In a big empty house it wasn’t hard to feel less than, especially with one hand.

It’d been Dot who talked sense into her. Dot surprisingly sensible when she herself had eloped with Fatin, annulled it, and eloped again.

“Okay,” Dot said. “Maybe she’s too good for you. So what? She doesn’t know that.”

“Exactly,” Rachel said. “That’s my fucking point. She’s gonna find someone better and realize that I’m just… me.”

“Yeah,” Dot nodded.

Rachel glared at her. “You aren’t making me feel better.”

“I’m not Fatin, or Shelby, or Martha.”

“I know that,” Rachel said.

“It sounds like you wanna marry her,” Dot said. “So fuckin’ marry her. Then she won’t be able to fuck off with someone else.”

“But I want her to be happy,” Rachel said.

“So fuckin’ make her happy,” Dot said. “I don’t get what the fuckin’ problem is.”

So she proposed. Leah said yes immediately, not even a moment of hesitation, and they were planning a small wedding with a rabbi they both knew and a Huppa but not a Ketubah. Some sort of halfway for the both of them.

Rachel’s phone buzzed again and she turned it off, slipping it in her backpack to focus on Leah.

“This is probably the hardest book I’ve ever written. Not because its deeply personal or anything, just because I had to do so much research for it,” Leah said. “I even had to dedicate it to my sister in law because she spent hours with me looking at flight patterns and chess strategies. Do you guys know how many different kind of tulips there are? I can’t say I don’t understand the dutch a little better now.”

Nora squeezed her wrist and she looked over at her. Shelby caught her eye from beside Nora and passed her a phone, the notes app open.

Jeffs here.

Rachel frowned. Jeff Greene? The book review guy? Or maybe Jeffery Wilson, the Sony guy. Didn’t they have a neighbor named Jeff who liked to complain about their noise level to the police?

“Jeff?” She mouthed back.

Shelby was stone faced when she nodded and something sunk in Rachel’s gut.

Fuck. Jeff.

Leah was still talking but Rachel couldn’t hear her.

Where?

Shelby took the phone back.

The back.

Rachel clenched her jaw and Nora squeezed her wrist again, eyes wide.

Has Leah seen him?

Shelby shook her head and Rachel let out a breath of relief.

She got to her feet, and cast a quick smile back at Leah who’s brow furrowed at her. She kept talking though, stumbling a little on her speech. Behind her, Fatin, Martha, and Shelby followed.

Jeff wasn’t hard to spot. He was the washed-up has been, with the fraying hair and dark circles under his eyes.

“You need to leave,” Rachel spat.

“I’m just here to apologize,” Jeff said. “I don’t even—”

“You’re leaving,” Shelby cut off. “Now. Or I’ll call security.”

“Take this outside,” Someone hissed and Fatin dragged him out, shoving him roughly through the open door. Several more people waiting outside slipped inside, entirely grateful.

“Listen, I know I fucked up, I want to apologize,” Jeff said.

“She was a child,” Fatin said. “You’re a fucking predator.”

Jeff paled.

“Wait,” Martha said. “Are you here to apologize for dumping her, or for raping her?”

“I didn’t—”

Maybe it was Shelby that threw the first punch, or maybe Rachel. Maybe they both came at him at once. But Martha didn’t hold Rachel back like she normally would’ve, and Fatin snapped at some people to put their phones away.

Leah said it was ironic later, that Fatin was telling people to put their phones away, while Martha urged on a fight.

But it wasn’t a fight, it was a beat down.

Shelby had taken Toni to enough kickboxing lessons over the years to know how to throw a punch, and Rachel had been picturing this moment with Jeff for too long.

No one intervened once Martha pushed a couple people away explaining he was a pedophile who prayed on teenage girls. One person said, “Isn’t that Jeff Galanis?”

And Martha said: “Yes.”

Jeff Galanis hasn’t published a book in five years at that point, he wouldn’t publish one again. Leah wasn’t happy Rachel broke her only hand, and Toni started going to kickboxing lessons alone.

“It was stupid,” Leah told her, when she met her outside after they’d all been thrown out. “I don’t give a shit about him anymore. I just wanted you there.”

“I know,” Rachel said. “But it wasn’t stupid to me. I wanted you to know you wouldn’t have to see him again.”

“Rach,” Leah sighed. “You remember how when we were driving here a Smith’s song came on?” Rachel nodded. “I realized then I literally couldn’t remember his last name.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Leah said. “We’re getting married in a few months, my new book is coming out, your starting your new job. We’ll probably be aunts as soon as Toni and Shelby finish those foster parent classes. Jeff is like—probably the least important person in the universe right now.”

“Sorry I missed the talk,” Rachel said.

Leah kissed her, soft and easy like they’d never once been.

“It’s okay,” she promised. “There’ll be others.”

There were.

#gus writes #leachel fanfic #leachel #leah rilke #toni shalifoe #some post canon hcs for you my love #the wilds fanfic #the wilds #gus answers

33 notes · View notes

empyreanwritings · 4 years

Text

A Different Side to You

Pairing: Angel!Sam Wilson x Demon!Reader

Word Count: 7k (yall this is my longest fic that isn’t a series, i’m crying)

Warnings: definitely some blasphemous talk, blood and gore, mentions of sacrifices, language

Summary: You like to get under Sam’s skin because he makes it easy, but he doesn’t realize just how far you’ll really go to make sure he’s safe.

A/N: Hello friends! This is my submission for @buckysknifecollection writing challenge, congrats again on reaching 3k bby cause you deserve every follower and more! My prompt was Flirting in Inappropriate Places, and I tried to be as interesting with it as I could asdlkfjd ! Please let me know what y’all think! I crave attention xx

Divider by @whimsicalrogers - check them out bc their edits are amazing x

"Do you pray, or is that kind of redundant given your direct line to the big man?"

Sam refused to look over at the intruder. It was bad enough you felt the need to bother him with your presence again but to do it in a church? He feared if he looked over at you, he'd throw the hymnal straight at your thick skull. That kind of behavior was unbecoming for God's favorite, and he knew better than to test his father's patience - even if you tested his own daily.

You sighed dramatically, and he heard the familiar click of your heels as you walked down the center aisle. You traced your finger against the armrest of the pews; your nails dipped in black paint occasionally leaving a small scratch on them. The wood was old and soft, it was easy to leave marks behind, and it made you smile knowing they wouldn't be able to buff it out without ruining the wood altogether. A church marked by a demon. How sad.

For the last year, you brought it upon yourself to cause trouble to Sam. Nat told you not to bother with him; she knew her father would protect him at all costs, but you couldn't stop yourself. There was something about Sam that made every part of your body feel hot - and not in the Hellfire kind of way. Maybe it was his strong will or those arms. Either way, you enjoyed bugging him because you knew you'd make him crack eventually.

It was too hard to resist you, ask any man or woman who was allowed to live after a nightly encounter with you.

"I have to say," you leaned against the pew directly in front of Sam and crossed your arms over your chest, "Orange really is your color, Sammy. I don't think I've ever seen you look so delicious before."

"Can you not flirt with me in a house of worship? It's bad enough that you are here," he hissed. "Do not disrespect my father by flirting with me as well."

"Touchy, touchy. I can see I've struck a nerve, so I'll tell you why I'm here."

Sam's brows raised, and for once, he seemed intrigued by what you had to say. "Oh? It's not to bother me?"

Part of your visit was to bother him, you couldn't deny that, but it was mostly a professional visit. Nat needed to return to Hell and deal with a few demons who were stirring up trouble. The longer Nat stayed on Earth, the more restless they became down below. Some of them even went as far as to say Nat was no longer their queen and wanted to overthrow her. And, of course, she couldn't let that happen, so she left you in charge of any earthly factions trying to rise up while she went down to control the chaos. You hated being left behind, but the company wasn't terrible.

The only way you could really get the demons on Earth under control was if you had Lilith's knife. It was the only knife capable of truly killing a demon, not just send them back to Hell to crawl their way out again. After the war between the angels and demons, the angels took the knife and hid it so no being could ever wield its power again, and you knew Sam was there when Steve hid it.

You suggested a trade: Sam loaned you Lilith's knife in exchange for one of your Souls. No one would ever be willing to give up a soul they took in a deal, but if it meant you'd get your hands on the knife, you would do it.

"Are you out of your mind?" Sam roared, his cool exterior finally cracking at your audacity to ask something of him. "You really think I am going to hand over Lilith's knife to you? You know very well that knife doesn't just kill demons, Y/N."

"I would never use it on you, you drama queen." You paused, and a wicked smile spread across your face. "Unless you asked me to, of course."

He scoffed. You felt the disgust rolling off him, and you tried not to be annoyed that the sheer thought of being with you made him feel sick. You weren't looking for him to love you, or anything like that, but he didn't have to act like sleeping with you was so terrible. It wasn't as if you could get any sort of disease - perks of being a demon, after all.

"I am not giving you the knife, so you might as well leave."

"I can wait," you purred and left your spot on the pew to explore the sanctuary. You knew it would bother Sam if you stayed any longer, so you were going to milk your time there.

The church was one of the oldest in the city. You never fully understood the separate denominations of the church, but you noticed Baptists put less work into their churches than others. The pews were old, the fabric on them was a faded green that was torn in some spots. The white walls were slightly yellowed and peeling in the corners, but you only noticed if you focused long enough. It helped that the lights, which you could see dust hanging from the top of them, were dimmed. The blue carpet on the stage was the only thing that seemed new, and even that didn't seem to be in the best condition.

You walked over to the podium, and from the corner of your eye, you could see Sam tense up. You smirked and continued on. A worn bible sat on top of it; there were tabs sticking out the side, marking several pages for future sermons, you assumed. You grabbed the end of one and flipped it to the marked page, running your fingers across the lines.

You opened your mouth to start reading, but Sam appeared in front of you almost instantly. He slammed the bible closed, barely giving you time to yank your hand back. He knew exactly what you were doing, and he refused to let you speak the words of his father.

Touchy, touchy, you thought.

Sam grabbed your elbow to escort you out, but you whirled around and faced him head on. You pressed your chest against his; you were so close, your nose brushed the tip of his. He hated being this close to you, but he made no sign of backing down. God's favorite was one of the proudest as well. A deadly sin, you chose to remind him.

He watched your eyes flick down to his lips and back to his eyes in a matter of seconds. It happened so quickly, he thought he imagined it, but he knew better. You were shameless.

"I guess I'll get going now, Sammy," you hummed as you trailed your finger down his chest. "Please wear this sweater the next time I see you. Like I said, orange is your color."

You disappeared without another word, and the breath escaped Sam's lips in a cough. Well, it was less of a cough, and more of a strangled gasp. You really had a way of getting under his skin, and he hated admitting that to himself.

He knew one thing was certain, he couldn't let you get Lilith's knife. No matter your intentions.

"What are they doing?"

You jumped at the sound of Sam's voice, thinking you were caught by one of the people you spied on, but instantly relaxed when you saw him standing behind you. You glanced back at the scene in front of you - an altar with fake skulls the group probably bought at Michael's, red fabric thrown carelessly around everything, and three men in black cloaks mumbling to themselves about Lucifer. A woman was tied to the table directly in the middle. She squirmed and screamed for someone to help her, but no one was around these parts for miles, and the group knew it. It was why they picked this spot in the first place.

"Virgin sacrifice," you grumbled. "I could smell the stench of goat's blood miles away, so I popped in to see what they were doing."

"You can't just let them-"

"Relax, Sammy. I'm going to stop them. I actually hate human sacrifices." You turned around and smiled wide when you looked over at Sam. His brows furrowed, confused by your sudden change in mood, but when your eyes looked down at his shirt, he knew what you were about to say. "You're wearing orange."

He rolled his eyes. "I had nothing else to wear."

"You're wearing orange because I said you looked good in it, aren't you? Don't be embarrassed, Sammy, you look absolutely-"

"Don't you have a virgin sacrifice to interrupt?"

Your mouth formed an 'o' as if you just remembered why you were here. You told him to wait one moment before you disappeared behind the red fabric.

Screams filled the abandoned warehouse, but they didn't belong to the woman. The stench of blood and mutilated flesh hung in the air around Sam. It was a smell he was sure you were used to, but he almost lost his lunch thanks to it. When the screaming stopped, Sam thought the worst of it was over until he heard one of the boys beg for their lives. A wretched sob and a plea to be better interrupted by the sound of him choking on his own blood.

You escorted the woman out quietly. The poor thing trembled in your arms, yet it seemed you weren't the thing she was terrified of. You may have been a demon, but the monsters were the men willing to sacrifice her in the name of someone who didn't want human sacrifices to begin with. Well, Nat only liked sacrifices if the one dying was wicked, but that was another story.

The woman thanked you, tears and snot streaming down her face as she clutched onto your torso. You grimaced but did not pull away. Human comfort wasn’t something you fully understood, but you knew she needed a good hug right now, so you let it slide.

"Is there anything I can do to repay you?" She sobbed.

Sam shook his head. He knew what you were about to say - she could offer her soul in exchange for helping her. Demons were all the same. They acted like what they did was for the benefit of others, but it always came at a price. A price the humans could barely afford. And just when he started to believe you did this out of whatever goodness you had in your heart, you were going to prove to him that you were just like every other demon.

"You owe me nothing." He sucked in a sharp breath. That wasn't what he was expecting at all. "Except…maybe don't go on dates with people you meet in cemeteries. This is New Orleans, you can meet better men at the bars."

She nodded and made her way out of the warehouse. You weren't worried about her spreading the tale of what happened today because she could be accused of murder if she did. No one would ever buy the tale that a demon swooped in and killed everyone just to save her. The witches of the French Quarter might, but they weren't lawyers who could bust her out of jail.

You noticed Sam staring at you and huffed. "What? Do you not approve of me killing those bastards?"

"No, I…" He trailed off for a moment, eyes wandering over every inch of your blood covered body. He wasn't looking at you but trying to look through you and understand why you would do something like spare that woman's soul. "I don't understand why you didn't make a deal with that woman."

You shrugged. You felt no need to explain yourself to him.

"Wait, when you offered to exchange a soul for Lilith's knife, did you even have a soul to offer?"

"Several."

"Ones that aren't centuries old."

"Why does it matter how old they are? A soul is a soul, right?"

It hit Sam that you probably haven't made a deal since you first became a demon. There was a time where Nat required every demon to make deals with people, but even she grew bored of the lifestyle. Many demons continued making deals and ruining people's lives, but Sam wondered when you stopped - and why. You spent most of your days following him around just to bother him, which meant you didn't have much time to harvest souls of the innocent. So, why? Why did you stop, and why did you make it seem like it wasn't a big deal?

You turned away to avoid any questions he was inevitably going to throw at you. You walked around the body parts and looked through the trinkets they gathered for the sacrifice. It was a long shot, but you wanted to see if they got their hands on Lilith's knife. A small bubble of excitement burst in you when you saw a black dagger resting on the table, but you knew it wasn't the right one as soon as you touched it. No magic, no power. Just a boring kitchen knife dipped in paint.

He watched you look around in disappointment. Questions bombarded his mind, made him wonder what else he didn't know about you - what else he might have gotten wrong. You were still a demon, though, and he would never be able to look past that.

When your search turned up empty, you focused right back on Sam and the dark orange V-neck he wore. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he wore that shirt for you. And you knew it.

"So," you began with a smile, "I find it adorable that you are wearing more orange for me. Very fall…very romantic, if you ask me."

"I didn't wear it for you," he quipped. "I told you, I had nothing else to wear."

"Mhm, so you said. Well, if you don't like it, you could always just take it off. I wouldn't mind." You ran your finger along his exposed collarbone, and he quickly swatted at your hand.

"There is nothing sexy about you asking me to take off my shirt when it smells like blood."

You giggled, something that should have been adorable yet somehow sounded evil coming from your lips. "You'll get used to it after a while, but I'll let you change the subject for now. I know it's probably not good for God's favorite to be aroused at the idea of taking me on a sacrificial altar."

Sam deadpanned, and you practically howled out a laugh. He made it far too easy to get under his skin. As much as you would have liked for him to ravish you then and there, you were perfectly satisfied knowing you managed to annoy him. It was the second greatest pleasure in your life, next to torturing evil assholes who thought the world belonged to them.

You tried to turn the conversation back to Lilith's knife. You hoped that your display of mercy would make him willing to give up its location, but he stood his ground. He vowed to never let you see the knife, even if you did swear not to use it on the angels. The knife's power was too much for one to handle; he couldn't guarantee that after you used it on the rowdy demon faction, you wouldn't just turn around and use it on him or his brothers. Once the knife got a taste for blood, it always wanted more.

No matter what you told him about the threats of war in Hell and on Earth, he refused you. His stubbornness made your jaw clench, but you knew when to pick your battles. When the precious humans were in danger, he would be willing to give it up. Despite not wanting for it to get that bad, you knew it was the only way.

So, you'd wait, and until then, you'd drive him crazy with your flirtatious comments.

The next few days were…off, to say the least. You spent a lot of your time trying to get a feel for Sam's godly aura - something that had a distinct smell and feel to it most angels didn't even realize - but there was nothing. Every corner you turned, every chapel you visited, was hollow. Cold and empty, much like the feeling in your chest the longer you didn't see him. You knew it was possible he was just avoiding you, but you couldn't help but feel a little dreadful.

If something happened to Sam, you'd unleash Hell on earth. You would rip through every being you had to in order to get to him. The heavens haven't seen true bloodshed until you've put your mind to it, especially if you were going to avenge your non-existent lover.

But as you sat in one of Sam's favorite sanctuaries, you wondered if he had finally grown tired of your games. He was an angel after all, and you were nothing but a demon. Scum of the earth; knight of darkness and destruction. A small voice in the back of your head reminded you that you would never be any more to him. You looked around and realized, he might not have been missing at all, he may have just decided you were no longer worthy of his presence. You weren't sure which idea hurt more, and you didn't really want to take time to analyze it.

The funny thing about sadness is that it eats you from the inside. The harder you try to push it down, the more power you seem to give it. Even as you sat there, staring at the ethereal paintings on the ceiling, you couldn't stop the sadness from burning a hole into your heart. You closed your eyes and exhaled, feeling the heat from all the Bibles burning around you. And you smiled - not fully, but enough to push down the sadness once more.

"Where is my brother?" You opened your eyes and looked over at Steve, who went to work trying to put out the small fires you set. "For the love of dad, did you really have to burn the Bibles? You could have gone for the hymnals, at least!"

You hummed disinterestedly. "Why are you asking me about Sammy? I figured he went back to Heaven by now."

"He hasn't been home in months, but he usually checked in with me. I haven't heard from him in days now."

Okay, so maybe he was missing, and maybe you were too quick to start throwing yourself a pity party, but could anyone blame you? No one had to know you were willing to burn down a church simply because you thought Sam abandoned you.

"The last I saw Sam he was alive and well, I can promise you," you purred just to get under Steve's skin. "If I'm being honest, though, I haven't seen him since then. He usually pops up to scold me when I start trouble, and I did everything I could to get his attention! I even kicked a toddler, and he never came. I should have realized he could never get bored with me; obviously someone has taken him."

Steve blinked several times, trying his best to process your words. He didn't know where to start - the fact that you both tend to end up in each other's company willingly or that you would go so far as to kick a toddler to see him. He shook his head. How Sam managed to put up with your antics was beyond Steve. He always told his brother that a demon like you wasn't worth watching over, but Sam always had one excuse or another. Lately, he claimed it was to make sure you didn't find Lilith's knife, but even that excuse was flimsy at best.

He wanted to be in your company, and it baffled Steve most of all.

"I'm not going to touch any of that," he quickly shook his head and tried to push the disturbing thoughts out of his head. "Nat said there was rebellion going on in Hell. Do you think demons might have taken him to get under her skin?"

"I wouldn't put it past them, but I honestly think if the demon faction on Earth kidnapped him it's because they want Lilith's knife."

"And let me guess you want me to give it to you."

You nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "If demons are behind Sammy's disappearance, they need to be taken out. Lilith's knife can do that, and you know it!"

"You think I'm foolish enough to give a blade that can kill demons and angels to a psychotic demon with stabbing tendencies?" Steve scoffed. "You're off your rocker even more than usual."

A moment passed, and your passive façade finally cracked. You kicked Steve, full force against his abdomen, and sent him flying towards the altar. He caught himself before he landed on the podium, but he didn't have enough time to block your next blow to his side. You knew it was enough to knock the air from his lungs and catch him off guard, so you quickly grabbed his throat and forced him to his knees. His angel strength usually made him an even match, but your rage was the one thing fueling you. It was too much for him to fight off.

You squeezed until he was gasping for air and slapping at your hands. His eyes grew wide when he looked up at you and realized you were in full demon form - eyes black, teeth pointed behind your sinister snarl, and your skin slowly flaking off and turning to ash. He had never seen you like this, and for once, he feared his life despite knowing you couldn't really kill him.

You leaned in close, letting him get a good whiff of the rotted flesh and brimstone. "Let me make something very clear, Michael, you will give me that knife because the longer you wait, the more danger my Sammy may be in. And if he gets hurt, I will tear the world apart until it rains blood for eternity. You and your daddy will have nothing to protect anymore, do you understand me?"

Steve shuddered as you dropped him to the floor. The use of his real name never brought a chill down his spine until it came from your lips. He knew, somewhere deep inside of him, that you no longer wanted the knife for yourself; you wanted it to end those who dared to take Sam away from you.

Realization dawned on him in that moment. You loved him. It was something he never knew a demon could be capable of, but your protectiveness…your anger…it all made sense now. You wouldn't let anything happen to Sam, and he knew giving you the knife wouldn't be the worst idea. The other angels might frown upon it, but they wouldn't question Steve's judgement. He'd make them understand why he had to, and why you were somehow the most trustworthy person to take it.

"I'll get you the knife," he gasped. "You find out where my brother is, and I will meet you there with the knife."

You slowly turned back into your "presentable" self at his words. The relief that you wouldn't have to torture the information out of Steve flooded you. Sam would be incredibly unhappy if he knew you hurt his family, even if it was a little deserved.

"I can find out within the hour, I have someone who owes me a few favors," you replied. "Keep an eye out for my text. I'll give you the coordinates on where to find me once I know."

Without another word, you disappeared, off to cause trouble wherever you needed to. Steve stood there, hands dropped at his side and a deep sigh escaping his lips. There was one problem to your plan: he didn't have a phone.

The moon just started to rise when you stepped through the dilapidated gates of the cemetery. Fog clung to the ground, making everything damp and humid. Bits of leaves stuck to the bottom of your boots as you walked, but you didn't care. You just wanted to get to Sam.

You felt in your element, oddly enough. Surrounded by darkness, Lilith's knife grasped tightly in your hand. You knew the night would end in a blood bath. The demons weren't going to let Sam go willingly, and you mentally prepared yourself for what he was about to witness. If you lost control, even for a split second, your true form would come out again. You knew he would never love you anyways, but once he got a real look at you, whatever tiny amount of hope you clung onto would be squashed.

None of it mattered, though. You only cared for Sam's safety.

The faction waited for you in one of the larger mausoleums. They almost seemed too relaxed as you walked in, as if the party couldn't start until you arrived. You glanced over and saw Sam bound, gagged, and tossed in the corner. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and not let the rage consume you over the sight of him.

Mystique, the leader of the faction, casually hopped down from the top of the stone casket and made her way to you. Her movements reminded you of a lioness, calm and in control as she stalked closer to her prey. She wasn't scared of you, and that was the one thing you were hoping for; you wanted her to underestimate just how cruel you could be.

She walked around you in circles, taking in your presence with a hungry grin on her face. Her eyes lingered on Lilith's knife longer than anywhere else, but she made no advances to take it from you.

"I see you brought the knife," she practically purred in delight. "I'm surprised the angels were so willing to hand it over, but I see kidnapping one of their own was the best way to get their attention."

"You weren't just trying to get their attention," you replied calmly. "You were trying to get mine as well."

"Well, I did have a feeling taking your lover boy would get you here."

You refused to look back at Sam, even though you wanted to. You had to lie your way out of her trap, and you wouldn't be able to contain yourself if you made eye contact with him in this moment. And you wouldn't be able to hide any of your emotions from Mystique.

"He means nothing to me. He was just a means to get Lilith's knife."

As the words left your mouth, your chest started to ache. You silently prayed - something you never thought you could bring yourself to do - that Sam wouldn't believe your words. Whether he ever planned on loving you back or not, you didn't want him to think you only saw him as a means to an end. If he never gave you the knife, you wouldn't have cared because you got to spend time with him. That was more than enough for you.

"For a demon, you're a terrible liar," Mystique sneered. "I've been watching you two. I know the truth, and honestly? I feel a little sad for you, Y/N."

Your lips formed a tight line, and you took a slow breath through your nose. "Why is that?"

"Because you're dumb enough to think he'll fall for you one day. Do you not see the heartbreak you're setting yourself up for? An angel will never see you as anything but the perverted failure of his father, and you are dumb enough to think he could ever see you as anything else." Her words cut into you, and you had nothing to retort. She was right; you came to terms with this before you ever step foot into his life. You weren't meant to fall for him and yet…you did. You tricked yourself. "Even Nat believes she is better than us, it's why we needed to take action! Can't you see? We're your family. We're able to give you what these angels never could - power and belonging. I know you crave both despite all your past protests."

She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and forced you to look at Sam. Her lips were next to your ear, and though you couldn't see it, you knew she was smirking. "All you have to do is kill him. Kill Gabriel and we'll accept you into our group. I can be a fair better leader than Nat ever could."

Sam's eyes grew wide as you stalked towards him. Mystique's words ran through your mind on a constant loop. He would never see you as anything other than a demon; he would never be able to love you the way you so desperately desired. The longer you stared at him, the easier it was to come to terms with that. But it didn't mean he deserved to die.

"There is one thing I think you are forgetting in all of this," you finally said, turning your back on Sam to face Mystique.

"And what is that, my dear?"

You shoved the knife through her throat, ignoring the spray of blood hitting your face. The other demons stood, ready to attack, but they faltered when they realized no one was going to give them an order. Mystique was too busy choking on her own blood.

Just before the light faded from her eyes, you leaned in close and whispered, "You get on my last fucking nerve."

You pulled the knife out and let her body drop to the ground. She was gone for good this time. Wherever the beings went when they were killed with Lilith's knife, you knew it wasn't Hell; she would never be able to crawl her way back to Earth and cause more trouble.

The other demons stood in shock as you stepped over her body. They didn't want to fight in you in fear of losing their own lives, but as you flipped the knife in your hand, they knew they had no choice. You weren't going to let any of them walk out of there alive. They started too much trouble for you and for Nat. This was your way of tying up loose ends.

You gave them props for putting up a good enough fight. They weren't coordinated without Mystique telling them what to do, but they tried their best. Even when bodies started to drop, and the smell of blood lingered heavily in the air, they fought tooth and nail to get away from you. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Not a single demon stepped through the mausoleum doors alive. Well, besides you of course, but that was kind of obvious.

Once everyone was taken care of, you made your way over to Sam. You looked him over several times, and a pout began to form on your lips.

"You're not wearing orange today!" You whined as you pulled the rag from his mouth. "I thought we agreed you'd wear orange the rest of your life for me."

He let out an exasperated breath. "You're insane, you know that?"

"Well I heard-"

"If quote Alice in Wonderland and tell me all the best people are crazy, I'm going to shoot you," Sam grumbled, kicking away the ropes from his ankles in a hurry.

You beamed over at him. It was the kind of smile that made you look unhinged, and the blood spattered on your cheeks didn't help. "Ooh, gunplay? Sounds kinky, I'm in! But I'm pretty sure you don't even know how to work a gun, so I'll have to teach you."

"Please don't."

Sam took your hand and allowed you to help him stand. He had been tied up for days, and he caught himself using the wall to keep himself from tipping over again as the blood started to rush to his limbs again. He noticed how you stayed close enough to catch him if he fell over but kept your distance to give him some space. You assumed he needed a break from being surrounded by demons, and you weren't entirely wrong. He just didn't include you in the list of demons he wanted to stay away from.

You quietly let him pull himself together and got to work on piling the demons' bodies on top of each other. Not many groundskeepers entered mausoleums, but you didn't want to risk anyone finding them. You made a mental note to return with some lighter fluid and take care of the remains before the sun rose. It wouldn't please Nat to know you left bodies out in the open for anyone to find.

Sam tried to shift his weight onto one foot, and he grunted in surprise when a sharp pain shot through his ankle. You were by his side instantly, using your shoulder support most of his weight.

"Are you okay?" You asked, searching his face for any signs of discomfort.

He nodded. "I'm not sure how, but I think they might have broken my ankle. It should heal soon, though."

"Let's get you to a safe place to rest. I need to get the knife back to Steve, and we don't really need any other demons stumbling on your injured self."

"You're actually giving the knife back?" His surprise made you wince. You told him the only thing you needed the knife for was the get the demon faction under control, but he never believed you.

Because you're a demon, your thoughts reminded you.

"I told you I only needed the knife for one thing Sammy," you huffed and helped him step out into the cemetery. "I would never lie to you."

Sam said nothing, but he quietly examined the side of your face as you walked together. He wasn't sure what he felt in that moment besides confusion. Deep down, he already knew you weren't one to lie to him, but he didn't understand why. Why you went to great lengths just to save him. Why you hated virgin sacrifices and didn't take souls. Why you spent most of your time around him when you could have been doing anything else. You were supposed to be a typical demon consumed by a lust for blood, sex, and souls, yet you had proven time and time again that you were far from his expectation.

He wondered if Mystique had been right - were you in love in with him? The thought of you being in love with him made him question everything he thought he already knew.

He couldn't bring himself to understand why he liked the way you flirted him, or why he wore orange just to see you smile. He easily could have gone back to Heaven by now, but he always found an excuse to stay. To see you.

As you escorted him through the gates and far away from the stench of blood, he sucked in a sharp breath. Perhaps Mystique wasn't right about everything. She claimed Sam could never see you as anything but a demon, but as he looked up at you now, that was the last thing on his mind. All he saw was the woman he finally admitted to himself he was in love with.

You slipped into the pew beside Sam, who had fully recovered from last night's incident. You were exhausted after spending your night burning bodies and tracking down Steve to return the knife. Even he seemed surprised you gave it up willingly, but you didn't bother to banter with him about it. You were tired of the angels always thinking the worst of you.

You leaned your head against Sam's shoulder, half-expecting him to pull away in disgust, but he didn't. He sat there in silence as you closed your eyes and let yourself relax for a few moments.

The silence between you two wasn't uncomfortable. Both of you felt like you had been to Hell and back, and not much needed to be said about that. You were still covered in blood, and your clothes reeked of burnt flesh. Sam, who was fully healed, rubbed at his wrists to try and get the phantom feeling of the rope away. You almost made a joke about how a fucked up demon sat next to an equally fucked up angel, but the humor died on your tongue before you could get it out. It was just too much effort.

Sam sighed and pressed his cheek against the top of your head. "She was wrong, you know."

"About what?" You murmured so softly, you weren't sure you spoke out loud.

"About my feelings for you."

You sat up and groaned, feeling all of your muscles groan along with you. "Don't tease me, Sam. It actually hurts my feeling for you to lie to me like this."

"I'm not lying!"

"Sure, you're not."

He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. The sincerity in his eyes made your stomach churn. You knew how this played out because he wasn't supposed to love you; he wasn't supposed to see you as anything but a demon. Not a single celestial being would ever approve of him falling in love with you, and you would never be able to find peace.

"Listen to me," he began with a small, hopeful smile, "I love you. Do I fully understand it? Absolutely not. You're crazy, and I'm pretty sure you kill pedophiles for breakfast. You also willingly kick toddlers, which I don't approve but…I love you."

"No one will approve us being together, you know," you whispered as if someone was already listening in on you. "Not God, not Nat, not Steve. They'll always have something to say about us."

"Then let's get out of here for a bit."

"Where?"

"Anywhere you want to go." You quickly glanced to the side, and he rolled his eyes. "If you make another comment about that confessional booth, I will lose my mind."

You softly laughed and leaned in ever so slightly. You were officially invading his space, but you weren't making the first move yet. You wanted to give him one last chance to change his mind, to come to his senses or whatever it was he needed to do, before he turned his back on everything he knew just to be with you. Would it hurt? Absolutely. But you needed to know that this was going to last between you two. You weren't sure if you could live with the heartbreak of losing Sam.

"I think you've already lost your mind, Sammy," you teased. "You want to be with a demon after all."

He cupped your cheek in his hand, gently stroking your bottom lip with his thumb. It was an act so intimate, it almost caught you off guard. He stared at you silently before his lips finally met yours, and you nearly collapsed into his arms with how ecstatic you were to finally get a taste of him.

The kiss was hungry - full of teeth and breathless groans. You were exploring every inch of each other that you possibly could without tearing each other's clothes off. Sam practically came to life underneath you as his hands roamed up your side. Your name died on his lips - a prayer only you could hear. You thought about pulling back and reminding him that you were in the house of his father, but that would require you to stop kissing him, and you had no intention of stopping any time soon.

When he finally pulled away from, your chests were heaving, and you smiled over at him. He appreciated how gentle your smile seemed now. Even with the dried blood on your skin, there was a warmth in your eye that made your smile fill his chest with joy. A lot less unhinged, he would say.

"So," you pushed his back against the pew and crawled onto his lap, your knees straddling either side of his thighs, "You said we could go anywhere in the world, right?"

"Besides the confessional booth," he retorted with a smile as he caressed the side of your face.

You paused, trying to get used to him looking at you like you were the only woman in the universe. It felt odd but not entirely in a bad way. You spent most of your time denying he could ever look at you this way, and here he was, proving your doubts wrong. You weren't sure if it made you want to cry or kiss him until he caved and pulled you right into the confessional.

He claimed you wouldn't convince him, but you'd get him to crack one day.

"Besides the confessional booth," you laughed. "I spent a lot of time here, pestering you and scaring children in the cemetery. I think it'd be nice to get out of the country, explore the world a little bit."

"You haven't done that already?"

You shook your head. "I spent a lot of time staying close to Nat. She needed a strong right-hand woman, and I was the one who wanted to fill the job. I mean, Maria is great, but she's better at handling souls and all their pesky little contracts."

"Where do you want to go then? We can go anywhere you want, and we can get there for free thanks to my wings."

"Can I convince you to give the confessional booth a whirl?"

Sam sighed dramatically, not in annoyance but enough to make you laugh. "Absolutely not."

"Fine," you pouted. "I guess we can start with Greece, as long as you agree to wear your orange v-neck again."

#buckysknifecollectionchallenge #sam wilson x reader #angel!sam wilson #demon!reader #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson fic #angel au #marvel one shots #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction #marvel fics #sam wilson x you #angel!sam x demon!reader

206 notes · View notes

nerdygaymormon · 3 years

Note

Do you have a link to your thoughts on the CES letter? Because I'm sure plenty of folk have asked you about it. I'm, struggling.

The CES letter has been mentioned to me a few times in asks, but I don’t recall being asked to respond directly to it.

Before getting into it, I want to make you aware of this post about Faith Transitions, I think it may be useful to you.

I read the CES letter many years ago, probably the original version, it’s changed a lot since then. I think the CES letter is sloppy, and twists quotes, uses some questionable sources, and frames things in the worst possible way. It’s basically an amalgamation of all the anti-Mormon literature. But many of the main points of the CES letter are important and correct, even if the supporting details aren’t.

In a way, the CES letter has done the Church a favor. For a long time, Elder Packer insisted that anything which isn’t faith-promoting shouldn’t be taught. As a result, most members of the Church were taught a simplified version of Church history, leaving out anything that is messy or difficult. Although those things could be found if someone was looking for them, I found many of them simply by reading Brigham Young Discourses or other works of the early church.

With the internet, Elder Packer’s approach to history turns out to be a bad one. This information is out there and now most members learn about it from sources seeking to destroy their faith. One response to this has been a series of essays where the Church talks about some difficult subjects.

————————————————————

I’m not going to go through all the claims & challenges of the CES letter, but let me address some of the main ones.

1) There are errors in the Book of Mormon that are also contained in the 1769 edition of the Bible.

From the more faithful point-of-view, Joseph recognizes these passages, such as those from Isaiah, and knows they've already been translated into English and copies them from his family’s Bible. The non-faithful point-of-view is that Joseph copied these verses from his family Bible and tried to pass it off as his own translation.

2) DNA analysis has concluded that Native American Indians do not originate from the Middle East or from Israelites but from Asia.

This is correct. The Church has an essay which admits this and then spends a lot of time explaining how genetics works and one day we might find some Middle East connection. I find the Church essay convoluted as it goes through many possible (and unlikely) reasons for why no DNA of the Jaredites, Nephites or Lamanites has yet been found in the Americas.

3) There are things in the Book of Mormon that didn’t exist during Book of Mormon times, or in Central America (assuming this is where the Book of Mormon takes place), such as horses, chariots, goats, elephants, wheat, and steel.

This is also correct. Maybe the translation process was using a common word in English for a common item in the Book of Mormon. Maybe these are errors. Maybe it’s made up.

4) No archeological evidence has been found for the Nephite/Lamanite civilizations.

Correct. When it comes to archeological evidence, it's true that we haven't found any. For one thing, we don't know where the Nephite & Lamanite civilizations are supposed to have taken place. If you don't know where to look, it's easy to have no evidence. Perhaps Nephites & Lamanites didn’t actually exist and that’s why there’s no archeological evidence. The Book of Mormon does seem to do a decent job of describing geography of the Middle East before Lehi & his family boarded the boat for the Promised Land.

5) Book of Mormon names and places are strikingly similar (or identical) to many local names and places of the region Joseph Smith lived in.

This seems like a funny thing to get hung up on. First of all, it’s not very many names that are similar. Secondly, many places in the US are named for Biblical places & people. If the Book of Mormon people came from Israel, it makes sense they did something similar. For example, the word Jordan is in the Book of Mormon, the Bible, and in many places in America.

6) He points to obscure books or dime-novels that Joseph Smith might have read and the similarities between them and the Book of Mormon.

Those similarities are mostly at the surface level. To me it doesn't seem like Joseph plagiarized any particular book, and these specific books seem to not been very popular so difficult to say Joseph, who lived on the frontier, actually read them. Funny how no one from that time period thought the Book of Mormon resembled those books, probably because they hadn’t heard of them. But Joseph did hear and read a number of stories and some of that phrasing or whatever of the time influenced him. Think of songwriters, they create a new song then get accused of plagiarizing because it's similar to another popular song. Even without intending to, they were influenced by things they heard.

7) The Book of Mormon has had 100,000 changes.

Most of the "100,000" changes to the Book of Mormon were to break it into chapters & verses, to add chapter headings, or to add grammar such as commas and whatnot. There are some changes to fix errors that got printed but differed from the original manuscript. And there's been some clarifications made, but these are few in number. By claiming "100,000" he's trying to make it seem like there's a scam being done. It's easy to get a replication of the first Book of Mormon from the Community of Christ and read it side-by-side with today's version. I’ve done that and occasionally there’s a word or two here or there which differ, but overall it's mostly the same.

8) There were over 4 different First Vision accounts

True. Over the years, the way Joseph described the First Vision changed. I think different versions emphasize different aspects of the experience. I don’t find them to be contradictory. Oh, and the Church has an essay about this.

9) The papyri that Joseph translated into the Book of Abraham has been found and translated and it’s nothing like the Book of Abraham.

This is true. The Church has an essay about it. The Church now says that the papyri inspired Joseph to get the Book of Abraham via revelation, much like his translations of the Bible weren’t from studying the ancient Greek & Hebrew. It is a big change from what the Church used to teach, that this was a translation of the papyrus. The papyri has nothing to do with the Book of Abraham, and the explanations of the facsimiles in the Pearl of Great Price don’t match what the scholars say those pictures are about.

10) Joseph married 34+ women, many without Emma’s consent, some who had husbands, and even a teenager.

This all appears to be true. Emma knew about some of them, but not all. As for the married women, they were still married to their husbands but sealed to Joseph (I know this is strange to us, but this sort of thing was common until Wilford Woodruff standardized how sealings are done).

Polygamy was illegal in the United States. Most people who participated were told to keep it secret. So of course there’s carefully-worded statements by Joseph and others denying they participate in polygamy.

The salacious question everyone wants to know is if Joseph slept with all these women. We don’t know, but a DNA search for descendants of Joseph has taken place among the descendants of the women he was ‘married’ to and none have been found. But still, if he wasn’t doing anything wrong, why is he hiding this from Emma?

11) The Church used to teach that polygamy was required for exaltation, even though the Book of Mormon condemns polygamy.

This is accurate. The Church says polygamy was part of ancient Israel and so as part of the restoration of all things, polygamy had to be restored, see D&C 132:34. Now we no longer say polygamy is required to get to the highest level of the Celestial Kingdom.

12) Brigham Young taught Adam-God theory, which is now disavowed by the Church.

True. Joseph Smith didn’t teach this and John Taylor & Wilford Woodruff don’t seem to have any time for this teaching. It’s a thing Brigham Young was hot about and taught, but seems a lot of the church didn’t buy it as it was discarded after his death.

13) Black people weren’t allowed to hold the priesthood until 1978, despite Joseph having conferred it to a few Black people during his life.

Very true and very sad. This and the Mountain Meadows Massacre are the two biggest stains on the Church’s past. There is a Church essay on Race & the Priesthood. The ban appears to have begun with Brigham Young and he developed several theories to justify it, and these explanations expanded over the decades and bigotry was taught as doctrine. The Church now disavows all explanations that were taught in the past.

No reason for the priesthood ban is put forward in the Church essay other than racism. The past leaders were racists and that blinded them to what God wanted for Black people. There’s a big lesson in that for LGBTQ teachings of the Church.

14) The Church misrepresents how Joseph Smith translated the Book of Mormon.

The accounts of Joseph Smith putting a seer stone in a hat and reading words from it, that's part of the historic record. Quotes about it don’t make it to our Sunday School lessons, but if you go back to the Joseph Smith papers and other accounts, it’s there to read. Joseph also used the Urim & Thummim, and wrote out characters and studied them, but he seems to have most favored the stone-in-hat method. I think the main problem here is the Church in its artwork and movies does not depict this, and therefore most members are unaware until they see anti-Mormon literature. Why does the Church not show Joseph looking into a hat? Because it seems magical and weird to modern people. But how much weirder is it than he put on the Urim & Thummim like glasses and could translate that way, or he wrote out these characters from some extinct language and was able to figure out what they mean?

————————————————————

A number of the main points in the CES letter are true (even if explanations/supporting details in the CES are problematic). Some of the main points have simple explanations and don’t seem like a big deal. Others challenge what the Church has taught. To its credit, the Church put out essays by historians & scholars, with sources listed in the footnotes, addressing several of these controversial topics.

————————————————————

Religion is meant to help humans make sense of their world and our place in it. Most religious stories are metaphorical but end up getting taught as literal history and, in my opinion, the same is true of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And that’s why the CES letter has power, it points out things aren’t literally true but were taught by the Church as factual, and the CES letter shows us part of our messy history that the Church tried to hide.

————————————————————

The story of Adam and Eve can’t literally be true. It doesn’t fit our evolutionary past, but it’s meant to make our lives important, God created us and we have to account to Him for our choices, and it’s important to find someone to go through life with. We can say the same of Job and the Book of Ruth, fiction with a purpose.

While there are some real events included in the Bible, much of what’s written is there to teach lessons, culture, and give meaning to life. Jesus taught in parables so at least he was upfront that they were stories that contained morals.

Can I believe the same about the Book of Mormon, that it’s inspired fiction with meaning I can apply to my life, or must it be literally history to have value?

————————————————————

I went through a massive faith crisis while attending BYU. I had access to materials that told a different story of this religion than I’d been taught (the sorts of things in the CES Letter) and it threw me for a loop.

It felt like the floor of faith I had stood on shattered and I fell with no way to stop myself. After I had a chance to process through the things I was feeling, I looked at my shattered faith and picked up the parts that were meaningful to me.

I had lined up my faith similar to a line of dominoes. If the Book of Mormon is true, then Joseph was a prophet. If Joseph was a prophet, then this is the true church. If this is the true church, then...

This works until it doesn’t. Once a domino topples over, it starts a chain event.

Now I look at principles and concepts and decide if they’re meaningful to me.

I love the idea that we can spend eternity with the people we love most.

I believe we should be charitable and loving to others.

People on the margins need to be looked after and helped and lifted.

Poor people deserve dignity and the rich to be challenged.

We have a commitment to our community and we all serve to make it better.

All are alike to God, we’re all loved and God has a grand plan for us.

Those who passed away can still be saved through the atonement of Christ.

Those are all principles I find in the Bible and Book of Mormon or at church and I find Love flows through all of those.

This new approach works for me. I don’t have to believe or hold onto problematic teachings. I can drop them and still hold the parts that I find valuable. I can reject the teachings and statements which are bigoted, homophobic, transphobic, racist, ableist, misogynistic. Prophets can make mistakes and still have taught some useful things.

That little voice of the spirit and what it teaches and guides me to do, I trust it over what Church leaders say. Overarching principles are more important to me than specific details for how this gets applied in the 1800′s or 1950′s or Biblical times.

————————————————————

I truly hope some of what I’ve written is helpful.

There’s no use pretending that the CES letter doesn’t get some things correct. It’s also helpful to understand it’s not just trying to share truth, but has an agenda to make the Church look as bad as possible.

What about the things the CES letter is correct about?

Has this church helped you learn to connect with the Divine?

The Church has some very big flaws, but also has some big things in its favor. Some of its unique teachings are very appealing and feel hopeful and right.

Can you leave the Church and be a good person and have a relationship with God? Absolutely.

I also know this church is a community and it’s hard to walk away cold-turkey with nothing to replace it, without another network to belong to. It’s as much a religion as it is a lifestyle and circle of friends.

Are there parts you can hold onto? Parts you can let go of?

You have a lot to think about and work through.

#long post #ces letter #this is a much longer answer than I thought I would write

45 notes · View notes

zukkaoru · 3 years

Note

shhh i’m not on my phone at work got a second wHAT

35:) ramble to me, babe

35. ramble about any fic-related thing you want

corey this is so vague i don't even know where to begin skjgdfhdj uhhhhh what do i want to ramble about,,

WAIT OKAY I GOT IT

okay so back in like. february i think i did another ask game like this and someone (jo?? maybe???) sent an ask about meta/foreshadowing/hidden references for this ultraviolet morning light and at the time, only the first two(?) chapters were out so i couldn't talk about the foreshadowing, bc it was all leading up to the end of chapter six. but i can talk about it now bc the whole fic is up!!

i'll put it under the cut bc i know it'll be long + spoilers for those who haven't yet read tuvml

fic writer ask game

okay so first. all of the foreshadowing for the drowning scene. maybe i did already have a list of these in my google docs in case anyone every asked, maybe not, i won't say

anyway. i added in water/drowning imagery with zuko specifically in this fic, because of the drowning scene, and especially bc in the atla world, water imagery would generally be used with characters from the water tribes rather than someone from the fire nation. so it wasn't just me liking water-related words and shoving them onto zuko for no reason; it was intentional

chapter one:

- He really can’t think of anything more beautiful than Zuko drenched in moonlight - This is what fire feels like when doused with water. - It burns like fire consuming Sokka’s entire body, like he’s been dunked underwater and the surface has frozen over and his lungs are about to give out, but he’s going to keep hitting the ice anyways like he’s strong enough to break it.

chapter two:

- It washes over his body all at once, like a wave pulling him under the surface of the ocean, until his limbs are numb and tingly and his head sways. He’s completely frozen in place, eyes staring straight ahead but not really seeing anything. - He would’ve rather stood across from Azula in the Agni Kai arena and let her shoot him full of lightning, rather been dropped in the middle of the ocean

chapter three:

- Zuko searches the tumultuous ocean that is his mind for the right words - Zuko was telling them about Azula never quite getting the knack for swimming despite their annual vacations to Ember Island when they were little, and Sokka was so happy.

chapter four:

So he lets the words sink, lets them drown in the knowledge that he no longer has the right to talk to Sokka in the same way he used to.

chapter five:

The moonlight pours over him, drowning him in a soft white glow.

chapter six:

But…my doctors have told me that spending the rest of your life letting yourself drown in guilt isn’t going to help anyone.

also, people picked up on vai being a double agent, but no one picked up on the fact that she was a waterbender, even though i did hint at that too:

- Her brown skin is almost as dark as Sokka’s and her face and arms are covered in freckles. - It reminds Sokka of himself a little; the bright blue eyes of a waterbender but no bending ability to speak of. - How can you get better than a play with dragons, a star-crossed love affair, sun and moon symbolism, and a villain who has a secret past that ties them to the protagonist?

beyond that, there are also a lot of parallels/call backs to previous chapters/foreshadowing to future scenes just in general. the funniest one (and also completely unintentional one) is probably sokka and katara calling each other their least favorite [sibling]

“You’re my least favorite sister,” // You are, and I say this from the bottom of my heart, my least favorite brother ever. chapter 1 // epilogue

but there are. several more. and i'm not sure how many of them people picked up on so i will add them all bc i love them <3

Zuko would get himself arrested, kidnapped, killed, whatever if it would keep Sokka safe. // “I would give my life for [Zuko] without a second thought.” … “But would he do the same for you?” chapter 4 // chapter 6

When Sokka’s hand began to retreat, Zuko had reached forward, grabbed it, and whispered, “Please stay.” // “Don’t leave me.” Sokka says it like a prayer … like he would repeat it until he couldn’t remember anything else if it meant Zuko would keep holding him. “Just… stay.” chapter 5 // chapter 7

So they sit - Sokka and Zuko - on the roof of some abandoned building in the outskirts of the city. // “But now I’m pretty sure we’re just destined to be Sokka and Zuko” chapter 5 // chapter 7

“I just don’t think he’s trustworthy enough for this. … when he proves that he isn’t as reliable as you think - when he proves that he’s only ever going to let you down - I’m going to say I told you so.” // “Zuko is kind, and he is trustworthy and reliable. He’d never purposefully let me down” chapter 3 // chapter 6

this ^ was one i was hoping people would pick up on bc it makes the drowning scene/sokka pleading for vai to not hurt zuko that much angstier, but i'm not sure anyone did so now i'm putting those lines right next to each other so you're all forced to confront the pain <3

Is he still in love with Zuko? Is being in love enough? // But what good is any of that? Love isn’t always enough. // “It doesn’t matter who or where feels like home, it doesn’t matter if we’re in love. When you’re next in line for the throne, love isn’t enough.” chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 6

Zuko warms his other hand on instinct, and apparently it was a good call because Sokka squeezes it tighter and presses closer to Zuko. “I forgot my mittens at home,” // I love you doesn’t always take the shape of those three words. … Sometimes, it’s Have you eaten today? or Don’t forget your mittens again! chapter 1 // chapter 6

this ^ is also one i thought people might pick up on but idk if anyone did or not. but it made me🥺🥺 when i wrote it

[religion tw for the last part]

okay i could leave it there but corey gave me an excuse to ramble and i've made the post this long anyways so one more thing! i explained this to corey a while ago when we were having dinner together but i find it very funny so i'm sharing it with all of you i say like anyone has actually read this far

i accidentally made zuko a Christ Figure in tuvml

"but grace, surely that's not possible," you say. "surely there's no way zuko is a christ figure! there aren't any christian themes in tuvml. you didn't even have anyone try to convince vai to forgive zuko or have anyone convince zuko and sokka that they should forgive vai! how could you have a christ figure in your fic???"

let me set the scene. it's 2019, you're a senior in high school, and you decided to take ap literature for the possibility of college credit. your teacher has this book called how to read literature like a professor that he has his classes read chapters from, and one of those chapters talks about Christ Figures in literature. one of those chapters also talks about baptism symbolism, and mentions how oftentimes, characters who are christ figures will go through a baptism of some sort - being "born again" after a scene where they come out of the water

do you want to know what zuko does in this ultraviolet morning light?

he goes into the water. and then he comes back out.

and do you want to know what i had sokka say about zuko shortly before he took a dive into the baptistry water?

Zuko looks away from him, resigned, like he’s ready to die as atonement.

see. i grew up Christian, i went to church every sunday and i have spent the majority of my life memorizing Bible verses either for awana or bible quizzing and. sometimes i just drop biblical words into my writing sometimes bc they're words i've heard since i was a kid, and they're words i learned make you sound smarter at church. so of course i throw them around while writing. i use them in essays, i use them in poetry, and i use them in fan fiction.

so was i trying to make zuko a christ figure in my fic? absolutely not.

but i had sokka say he looked ready to die as atonement (for the sins of his people), and then i had him go into the water, nearly die, and have to be "brought back to life" by suki's cpr, being "born again" after a "baptism" and

well

accidental christ figure zuko i guess

anyway. this went on for a while and i'm not sure anyone bothered reading all of it which. valid.

thank you corey for letting me ramble skjdgfdjgh i'm not sure this is coherent, nor should it have all been in one post, but whatever

#i am off to eat dinner now but please feel free to send in more questions!!#this ultraviolet morning light #rising sun verse #ily corey <3 #this got very long but i'm not really surprised tbh #ask game #corey tag

13 notes · View notes

alatismeni-theitsa · 3 years

Note

Hi, hope you’re well. I read this comment of yours and then kept wondering about my own beliefs. I have always seen similarities in myths and in gods and just assumed they were one in the same being (like Aphrodite and Freya, or the many flood myths). That’s not to say one culture is more right than the other, rather that they appeared or were interpreted in different ways by different cultures. I know this is bad from an academic standpoint, but is it bad coming from a religious one? Idk, what do you think?

Hey! Thanks for the question! Well, one person - me xD - couldn't say what is "right" from a religious standpoint but, since you asked, I'll tell you my thoughts. I am not a polytheist, but I will treat all the pantheons and religious stories as factual, so I can proceed with the arguments.

To begin with, you've probably read ancient texts and how ancient people saw each other's pantheons. They said something of the sort "these people have a god who does this and a god who does that" and they didn't see the other pantheons as a different expression of their own pantheon. If someone had a god of thunder they would go like "oh, we, too, have a god of thunder, but he is doing such and such and looks like this!" and they wouldn't say that they share the same god. (Unless they were right next to each other, then there might be a chance of them understanding they have "taken" the deity from their neighbor and changed a few things in their approach).

Not to mention that different pantheons protected different cultures, and people often claimed that their own war god will be victorious over the war god of the other culture. Gods themselves (including the god of the Bible) said they would crush the gods of enemy nations and rule over them. But that doesn't make sense if only one pantheon exists. You can't fight the metallurgy god of the enemy nation if he is actually the god from your own pantheon.

For me, those ancient accounts for the gods matter because religious experiences are the same no matter the era. A person 2.000 years ago had the same communication with Inanna as one can have today. If thousands of her worshipers saw her as a goddess separate from foreign goddesses who presided over similar matters, then they must have been guided to do so by the gods themselves or their religious community. And since the goddess communicates with the people the same way, why wouldn't the ancients' opinion about her be valid today?

Most nations indeed have the flood story, but I wouldn't equate that to similar gods. The flood probably happened historically (in a less dramatic way than the religious texts tell us) and that's why it has been imprinted on our memory globally. However, not all gods from all pantheons are global. I've heard that the Romans had a deity of door handles, and I am sure the ancient Greeks had mischievous deities specifically tasked to break pottery. So, does that mean that there is a deity in this world who takes care of door handles or loves breaking pottery but, for some reason, it has only visited one or two cultures?

On the flip side, why do some pantheons have hundreds of deities and others only a dozen? Did certain gods just… skip certain countries? And why in Hinduism a deity can have dozens of manifestations (almost like separate deities) but in religions like the ancient Greek one we don't see that? Yes, in Hellenic Polytheism (and in Greek Orthodoxy) you can worship the deity / saint with different epithets, depending on what power of them you want to invoke. But that's not the same as gods manifesting as different "personalities" with different symbols and another plethora of domains. In this example, I am led to believe the deities of those cultures aren't the same.

Some can also bring up religious syncretism as a reason for one global pantheon, although I don't think it has its basis on how similar the deities are. Hermes and Thoth have little in common and yet we have the deity Hermes-Thoth. Nevertheless, one cannot claim to know Thoth because they know Hermes and vice versa.

Even the Aphrodite of the Greek mainland is different from the Aphrodite of Cyprus and Cypriots notice that. Of course, because of the history of the area, it's easier to say they are linked. But, to use your example, we can't clearly see that Aphrodite and Freya are connected. As I said, I am not a polytheist, so for me, both Aphrodite and Freya are made up by humans. Therefore, it's possible one nation was influenced by the other on how a goddess of sex and war looks like. Yet, the goddesses are still quite unlike.

They have different sacred symbols, different rites that please them, different children, and different stories/lives. And we can't say those characteristics don't matter, because if they don't, why are we even having religions? What is a religion if its people are just making up stories on the go? Why do we even have theology and recorded accounts from prophets and priests? Were the ancient spiritual people mistaken? Weren't they guided by gods as modern people are?

We can't just say "Aphrodite and Freya are basically the same, but humans happened to make different stories for them". If those ancient polytheistic religions are real, then the divine inspiration and knowledge regarding the lives, children, and preferred symbols of the gods shouldn't be ignored.

I don't deny gods around the globe can have similarities, but that doesn't mean they are the same. Two siblings can have similar appearance and behavior, but they are not two expressions of the same person. They can stand on their own.

Something else that doesn't seem right to me is that, if the Father God is ONE, and only interpreted differently in different cultures, then Zeus and the God of the Bible are the same? Then Poseidon and St. Nicolas of Greek Orthodoxy are the same "sea energy"? Being immersed in the lives of the ancient gods and the more modern saints, I can say that their *~feels~* are very different.

And, if every deity is the same as the other, why should one even bother changing or leaving religions? If Poseidon is St. Nicolas why don't you just work with St. Nicolas? If the Divine Energy is one, why don't you just worship the one God of the Quran, who is almighty and presides over every domain? Even if you do the opposite and say “worshipping Aphrodite is the same as worshipping the Love aspect of Quranic concept of god” many Muslims – or anyone who knows the basics of Islam – will object to that.

Concluding, I don’t see how all the pantheons and gods from monotheistic religions are the same beings/being.

#answered #theology #mythology #gods #Aphrodite #religion #myths

4 notes · View notes

couldbeasong · 3 years

Note

1-60 for the ask meme

Ope sorry I did not see this until today. I think I know the one? If it’s not the one you meant just lmk lol

1. Selfie?

You can have this picrew but I wish to be unperceived.

2. What would you name your future kids?

For female names I like: Harmony, Slyvia, Edelweiss, Bethany, and Opal

For male names I like: Uriah, Aiden, Kai, Levi, and Luke

3. Do you miss anyone?

My grandpa and Midnight (old dog)

4. What are you looking forward to?

Going on vacation in a few weeks, the end of the semester, and seeing @calligraphywitch tomorrow

5. Is there anyone who can always make you smile?

@calligraphywitch and my other girlfriend. They’re hilarious lmao

6. Is it hard for you to get over someone?

Romantically? Not really. You kinda gotta just accept it and move on. In the past, always being like: this will never work because of reason xyz helps.

Friendship wise? Absolutely. It depends a lot on the emotional investment I put into the relationship, but I find myself still missing people I haven’t talked to since High School or Middle School.

7. What was your life like last year?

It was weird being a freshman in college and trying to survive. I had a lot of family problems going on along with one of my best friends from High School being on her death bed for a while. A bit of a crisis of faith as well. But we survived, God willing! I miss pre-pandemic times tho

8. Have you ever cried because you were so annoyed?

Ask my brother. I’m sure there’s been an instance.

9. Who did you last see in person?

My grandma across the room from me!

10. Are you good at hiding your feelings?

I hide them so well I can’t even find them!

I like to pretend they aren’t there and repress them a lot but idk if I’m good at hiding them from others per say.

11. Are you listening to music right now?

I’m in a zoom meeting for class, so I guess my professor's voice?

12. What is something you want right now?

Freedom

13. How do you feel right now?

Kinda tired, kinda nauseous, kinda bored. Idk I probably need to drink some water.

14. When was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you?

Uhhhh idk about a week ago? My last hug was probably a week ago too XD

15. Personality description

I like to think I’m funny

16. Have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t?

I work in customer service- everyday (:

17. Opinion on insecurities.

Everyone is insecure about something. It’s kinda fascinating how even though all of humanity is exactly the same (in terms of our struggles and insecurities, we don’t vary) we still judge others for having them. Confidence is seen as a virtue and the most attainable goal. Society profits off of your insecurities tho so be aware of what they are and don’t let yourself be scammed.

18. Do you miss how things were a year ago?

Certain aspects perhaps. But 2019 is gone. It performed and then it left. It can’t hurt us or help us anymore. There’s little use in dwelling on that and wishing for 2020 to be 2019.

19. Have you ever been to New York?

No, but I swear Ima go one day and see a show on Broadway.

20. What is your favorite song at the moment?

I have like three I’m cycling between rn

When You’re Home from In the Heights

Wake Up by Jenny Owen Youngs

Together by For King and Country

21. Age and birthday?

Old enough to know better and October

22. Description of crush.

He’s super great and super intelligent, not to mention super in love with God. Frankly, he deserves better than me. I gotta lot of self-improvement that needs to happen, but we’ll see what happens XD

23. Fear(s)

Heights, drowning, spiders, super dark streets and rooms, not being good enough

24. Height

5′5″ respectfully

25. Role model

It’s changed through the various stages of my life. Rn tho a few of my Christian online friends

26. Idol(s)

I mean I stan Brian David Gilbert, but I don’t idolize him lol

27. Things I hate

Cheesecake, sickly sweet stuff, when someone grabs the receipt out of the printer even though it’s way more effort for them to do so than for me just to hand it to them and it throws me off of my rhythm, fudge

28. I’ll love you if…

You exist (and even not then because fictional characters just hit different lol)

29. Favorite film(s)

Tangled, Ella Enchanted, Enchanted, Howls Moving Castle, Princess, and the Pauper

30. Favorite tv show(s)

Brooklynn 99, Parks and Recreation, Ouran High School Host Club, My Hero Academia, and Bojack Horseman (I’m going through a phase with it rn lol)

31. 3 random facts

Blue is my favorite color, I own almost nothing in blue, people are better at identifying members of their own race better than members of other races.

32. Are your friends mainly girls or guys?

Girls- they’re easier to talk to and approach. Tho I stan and love my guy friends. They are kings.

33. Something you want to learn

Everything? Idk I have an insatiable desire to learn and it switches. Consistently, I want to learn how to make my own clothes, play either piano, guitar, or violin, and detail cars.

34. Most embarrassing moment

Uggg I’m not talking about it and neither is @calligraphywitch

35. Favorite subject

I really enjoyed Statistics as much as I have hated it. My all-time favorite class I have ever taken tho was AP US Literature

36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill?

Graduate grad school, get married, travel overseas

37. Favorite actor/actress

uhhh probably Chris Pratt or anyone who was on Parks and Recreation. Tho Broadway actors, I love Christian Borle

38. Favorite comedian(s)

John Mulaney

39. Favorite sport(s)

I miss playing softball and volleyball so prolly those

40. Favorite memory

There are too many to count. But usually, involve good conversations under the stars after 2 AM.

41. Relationship status

Have a picrew of my sister and me. Keep scrolling and mind ya business (jk ily anon)

42. Favorite book(s)

The Bible lol but fictional book wise, I will always love the Warrior Cats series. Red Queen was pretty lit. The Hourglass Door gave me a love for time travel aus lol. And Library Wars is near and dear to my heart.

43. Favorite song ever

You can’t ask me thisssss

Idk Hope is what we crave by For King and Country

44. Age you get mistaken for

24-30 it depends on the context

45. How you found out about your idol

@calligraphywitch

46. What my last text message says

No xD not disney

47. Turn-ons

When you have a musical playing and the end of one song is the start of another so they bleed into each other. CHILLS or when a line of poetry just expresses how someone feels. OR when different parts harmonize just right

48. Turn-offs

When my computer deletes my homework right before it’s done

49. Where I want to be right now

In a little cabin in the woods

50. Favorite picture of your idol

51. Starsign

Scorpio

52. Something I’m talented at

Reading peoples emotions

53. 5 things that make me happy

Music, Friends, Deep Conversations, Hugs, and God

54. Something that's worrying me at the moment

So much to do so much to see

55. Tumblr friends

Friends and mutuals include:

@calligraphywitch @an-assortment-of-forks @repentance-brings-healing @synthetic-blanket-hairs @loneallegiance @boywiththewand @knightof-cups @a-lil-strawberry @linkedwolf @indygo @obnoxioushair

There’s plenty more than that and I love you all ^^

56. Favorite food(s)

Tacos, Crab Ragoons, Salty Foods, RICE

57. Favorite animal(s)

Wolves and cats

58. Description of my best friend

Artistic, beautiful, supportive, hardworking. She is hilarious and an amazing person. There’s so much to the many reasons I love her I just can’t do it in words

59. Why I joined tumblr

Back in the 7th grade, my friends all had one and helped set me up with one. And that’s that.

60. Ask me anything you want

You want nothing ig lol if you want to submit one I can answer it still

11 notes · View notes

myluciferiscody · 5 years

Text

In Case You Don’t Live Forever P.3

pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader

word count: 2,649

warnings: language, torture, kidnapping, abuse, mentions of death/blood, canon(?) not entirely proof-read. *title inspired by Ben Platt’s song*

part 1 part 2 part 4

Xavier had asked you to stay behind while he went with Montana. You didn’t think anything of it when she said, ‘we’re supposed to be having fun.’ If anything, you figured it meant scaring off whoever decided to explore the grounds and whatnot. You sat back down, finishing off the rest of your water in peace. Your tears finally managed to subside.

It was nice to finally have a moment to yourself; you needed to calm down and reason for a second. The sunlight outside told you it was nearing seven PM. You lounged around, fearing the inevitable moment when you’d have to leave.

Xavier was stuck here, something you just couldn’t seem to shake. There had to be some sort of loophole, something that could save him, right? You laid there as the time slowly ticked by, your mind going to Xavier, your work shift tomorrow, the apartment he hasn’t stepped foot in for over a year-

You heard footsteps slowly approach you. You tensed up, sitting up and glancing behind you to find you were alone. Your mind was just playing tricks on you, it’s not surprising after the day you’ve had. You started to settle back in your seat, until a firm hand was placed over your mouth, another arm wrapping around your torso and yanking you up.

A few screams managed to bubble in your chest, all muffled by the hand. You heard a deep, almost husky chuckle in your ear.

“Do you take Satan as your lord and savior?” he grumbled to you, his hand leaving your mouth to hear your answer, or so you thought.

“W-what?”

He never answered. Instead, you felt a tremendous pain on the back of your head before you blacked out for a second time.

Montana watched as blood gushed from the neck of the poor souls who decided to trek into their territory. The looks of fear on their faces slowly diminished as the life drained out of them. Ray watched from a slight distance, disgusted at what his friend- or former friend, has become. Chet was nowhere to be found, and Xavier just stood there, a smirk on his face as Montana stood up, a bloody dagger in her hand.

“Are you done?” Ray asked them both, crossing his arms over his chest. Montana gave the female a kick in the leg, and when there was no response, her grin got bigger.

“For now, until the next one comes along,” she laughed. Xavier, who was usually pretty into this, only smiled. He could only think of you in the cabin, waiting for him to return. Montana didn’t seem to notice her partner in crime’s mind was elsewhere and went to wrap her arm around him.

“This is wrong, these people had a family!” Ray said.

Montana scoffed, “Yeah, so did the kid you murdered a few years ago, you ever tell them where his body was?” She smirked, realizing immediately she struck a nerve.

Ray was desperately resisting the urge to lunge at her, but other things stopped him. First, he never hit a woman. Second, Chet placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.

"Are we done here?“ Xavier asked impatiently.

"What, have a hot date with y/n?” Montana teased, a look of hurt briefly flashing in her eyes before it disappeared.

"She’s been by herself long enough, I want to see her,“ Xavier said, shaking her arm from his shoulder. The other three watched him jog off to the cabins, not bothering to give them, or the dead bodies a second glance.

"Man, he is whipped!” Chet laughed. Ray smiled, and they high-fived, mumbling obscene things under their breath.

“It’s nice to see you two made up!” Montana said, her voice genuine.

"We’re dead, and there was nothing else to do,“ Chet shrugged, "Plus, I’d rather spend my energy pissed at that bitch Margaret than any of you,"

Xavier had a bad feeling as he approached the cabin you were left in. There was nothing abnormal on the outside, everything looked just as they left it. When he slowly climbed the stairs, that’s when it hit him.

ghostly intuition

Xavier slowly pushed open the door and peeked his head inside. It was empty.

Xavier stepped in fully, frantically looking around, hoping you were being playful and just decided to hide. He looked under the empty cots, the dusty curtains, only to come up with nothing. He was scared, he knew you wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

"Y/N!” he called, now running down the steps. The others had already started making their way back, pausing their laughter at the sound of his frantic voice.

“Dude, what’s wrong?” Ray asked, noting Xavier’s blue eyes were glossy.

“I-I can’t find y/n,” he admitted, his lower lip trembling.

“I’m sure she is just exploring, she couldn’t have gotten far,” Chet said. He wasn’t always the best at comforting people, but he tried his best.

“Chet’s right, we’ll look for her,” Montana said, her eyes attempting to find Xavier’s, but he wouldn’t look at her. She was irritated at your arrival, any plan of fucking Xavier out the window as long as you were around. He said you were just friends, but she knew better. Now that Richard left her, she needed a good dick down.

They all took turns calling your name, Chet having to be corrected a few times. Their efforts seemed futile as the setting sun wasn’t helping the search, they had flashlights somewhere, but Xavier didn’t want to waste more time.

You came to with a pounding headache. Your body instinctively went to stretch but found your legs and arms were both bound. Your eyes flew open, observing your surroundings; you were in a dark room, tied up, and it was sweltering. You went to speak but found there was tape over your mouth.

Xavier, help me!

A dark chuckle startled you out of your wits. A shadowy figure slowly stood up; you could tell he was probably wearing a jacket based on his form. He approached your bed in just a few steps, and the man tilted his head at you as a lamp seemed to magically turn on next to you.

“You never answered my question, precious,” he sneered. Had he not kidnapped you, you would probably find him rather attractive. He had dark hair that fell over his face and intimidating brown eyes. “I guess it’s kind of hard when you’re bound and gagged."

Your body was shaking with tremors as you attempted to yank your arms from their confines. You knew there was no use; this guy had to be experienced, just by glancing at the knots keeping your feet tethered to the bed.

"I don’t usually do this here, I like finding my victims in more intimate places,” he sighed, bringing a hand to your cheek. You flinched away from him, your head only moving so far. “Like their beds, or the bathrooms in their house, that kind of thing.” You didn’t make a noise.

“And then I saw you, y/n, and I realized the best ones aren’t always vulnerable in their own space,” your eyes were prickling with tears, quite a few spilling out now that your body had a proper water supply. “Satan told me to go after you, and he has never steered me wrong before,”

The man standing in front of you suddenly ripped the tape from your mouth. You yelled in pain as some of the dead skin came off with it, your mouth chapping earlier in the day. He mocked your cries, bunching the tape in his hands before tossing it somewhere in the room.

“I like to keep count, you know?” he laughed at your distress. “After I’m done with you, you’ll be the fifteenth victim of the Night Stalker!”

Your eyes widened, realizing who he was. You heard about him in the news; all of the terror he caused Los Angeles and then San Francisco. Innocent women brutally murdered and raped, then left for their loved ones to find. You knew life didn’t always go the way you planned, and you surely didn’t expect to be at the hands of Richard Ramirez.

Out of all the things to say, you questioned, “How do you know my name?”

Richard rolled his eyes, a habit he picked up from Montana Duke. “I was here the night shit down with Mr. Jingles,” he laughed at the look on your face. “I saw your friend, Xavier, kick the bucket. It was fun to watch, the way the light just drained from his eyes!” he said, figuring mental torture would be best to start with. “One might say he died a hero’s death, trying to save that bible thumper, Margaret,”

This is the last thing you wanted to hear. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that if you did it hard enough, your ears would block out his voice. Richard knew what you were doing and was not having it. He raised a fist and brought it down on your nose, the sickening crack filling the room and making you howl. The smell and feel of blood trickling down your chin and onto your shirt were unmistakable.

“XAVIER!” you screamed, which only made Richard cackle at your expense.

“Nobody is coming to save you, precious!” he said, kneeling down, raising his voice. “Especially not Xavier, he isn’t as innocent as you think he is,” he said, clamping a hand over your mouth. He liked hearing his victims cry in pain, but Richard wasn’t sure they wouldn't hear you. He wanted to be confident in his work.

“After I kill you-” Richard said, now climbing over your body as you wrestled against him. For being bound, he was almost impressed at your drive to knock him off you.

He grabbed your now broken nose, squeezing it. A mixture of your tears and blood rolled onto the cot, causing you to gasp in pain. “I’ll make sure you die outside the gate, that way you can’t be reunited with your little boy toy,"

There was a looming threat now over the camp that all four ghosts could feel. They approached the last building, knowing if you weren’t in here, there was nothing that could be done. They saw your car still parked outside the gate, knowledge of Xavier, who recognized it with no question.

"She has to be here,” Montana said. “I can sense it.”

“There’s someone else here, too,” Chet said, “I can feel it, it’s really-”

“-dark,” Ray finished.

Xavier went and peeked in one of the windows, seeing nothing. They went to the door, finding it was locked. It was too weird, as they all tried to unlock it themselves. It wouldn’t budge.

“Y/N!” Xavier called, roughly banging on the door with a closed fist. Chet and Ray scaled the cabin, seeing some of the windows were still covered from last Summer.

“Who is y/n?”

They looked to see Trevor bounding towards them, his junk almost peeking from his shorts. The three boys avoided looking at him, but Montana was having a blast.

“Xavier’s girlfriend!” Chet smirked.

Trevor gasped, looking at his friend, who was still visibly panicked, “Congrats, man!”

Xavier didn’t bother to correct him; you’d be his girlfriend now, he didn’t care. He NEEDED you back.

“Where is she?” Trevor asked.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, we can’t find her anywhere,” Ray shrugged.

“She’s in here, I know it!” Xavier exclaimed, once again beating on the door to no avail.

“Is y/n another ghost I don’t know about? I saw Bertie earlier, she lost her lighter and is very upset-”

“- she’s still alive, a little too jumpy if you ask me-” Montana butted in.

The now group of five instantly froze at the bloodcurdling scream coming from inside the cabin. It was something they never heard before, even after the number of people Montana killed over the past year.

“Y/N!” Xavier screamed, his voice cracking. Ray and Chet both tried the lock again, but it wouldn’t open. Montana stood back, her eyes wide, and for once, she was scared.

“Move! Move!” Trevor said, nudging the three boys away from the door. “This door versus my GUNS!” he said, yelling as he ran full speed towards the locked door, making it look easy as the wood splintered open, sending him flying and landing on the floor. The others scrambled after him, hearing your begging behind another door.

“XAVIER! SOMEONE-” your voice became muffled as if someone were suffocating you.

Xavier went to the door, relieved when the door opened with ease. He froze at the scene before him.

A man was kneeling over you, a blade in his hands. Your jeans were ruined and cut, on the ground beside the bed. The man didn’t stop, despite hearing what was going on on the outside.

Xavier lunged forward, tackling the man as they both plummeted to the floor. Your attacker laughed as if it were a game, attempting to uppercut Xavier, but missed as Xavier was yanked off of him. Chet and Trevor both grabbed Richard, hauling him up as if he were weightless.

Montana ran to you and covered you up with an old blanket, hiding your cut up legs and intimate parts as you cried. Ray started to untie you, finding that his eyes were prickling with tears.

Xavier kneeled beside your head, cradling it as you sobbed in relief. They all saved you, even the mystery guy with a pornstache who helped Chet in 'escorting’ Richard outside. Yet, the pain you felt in your nose, and now down there still factored in.

“What do we do!?” Montana asked in a panic. Despite her dislike for your relationship with Xavier, none of them could leave to drive you to a hospital. The phone lines wouldn’t work either, and nobody seemed to notice the lamp still on beside you. She was scared.

Your cries calmed somewhat as Xavier continued to cradle your head while Ray finally freed you. You fell limp into Xavier’s arms, his purple tank now drenched with your blood. Chet came running in, explaining Trevor got 'rid’ of him. None of them were nurses, they didn’t know what to do.

However, that didn’t stop them from trying.

Xavier stayed with you as they scattered, gathering supplies to aid your wounds and get you cleaned up. He was guilt-stricken, knowing he should have stayed with you. Montana even felt remorse as she gave you a final look before she ran after the others.

“Did he?…” Xavier couldn’t even finish, but you knew what he meant.

“No, but I’m sure he would have if you guys didn’t save me,” you mumbled, ignoring the searing pain in your nose. Xavier pressed kisses to your forehead, wishing he was powerful enough to heal you himself. You were dizzy, your skin becoming clammy.

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he said brokenly. You reached with a shaky hand to grip his, threading your fingers together.

“It’s not your fault,” you tried to reason with him.

“I left you alone, I-I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry for dying, I’m sorry for abandoning you- I love you, y/n. I’m so in love with you, you deserved the world, you deserved better than me.”

You were shocked. Your body tensed up after Xavier’s admission to you, but neither of you realized it was because of the trauma you had just experienced. Xavier continued to weep, mumbling things you now could not catch.

Your adrenaline had shot up once Richard really attacked you. You always heard that dying of fright was a myth, and it was, you knew that. You just never realized an unhealthy amount of adrenaline could cause someone to die.

When you unexpectedly took your last breath, Xavier was still confessing his undying love to you.

taglist: @thexmancometh @the-walking-daryl @trichy-knitts @shydragonrider @thefandomzoneisdangerous @lemonwhiskers @jetblackpayne @langdonsvcrd @okoktrinity22 @uwonman

*if I missed anyone, please let me know! if you want to be added to my taglist, you know the drill. only two parts left!*

#cody fern #xavier plympton #ahs 1984 #michael langdon #jim mason #duncan shepherd #jim mason x reader #duncan shepherd x reader #xavier plympton x reader #michael langdon x reader

248 notes · View notes