#goD like every other religion is fine except those ones

[10yrsyart]

Logos- the Word of God Erebos- darkness, gloom

i don't remember where i heard this analogy, but it really stuck with me. you can't stay on the fence of belief/ unbelief forever, because the devil owns the fence. he owns all the religions of the world, except for the only faith that can save you: faith in the blood of Jesus Christ. the Son of God came down, lived a sinless life, took our sins upon Himself in death, and resurrected so we might have life too. because He LOVES us.

the truth is, you don't know when the end of your life will be. when you come to stand before the Just and Righteous Judge, will you be covered by Jesus' perfect blood, shielding you from punishment? or will you still have all your sins covering you because you rejected Him?

i don't write this to condemn, but because i love you and want you to have an eternity of joy and peace. so i warn you with love: Jesus is returning soon, to take His people away before God's Wrath and judgement begins (Revelation 3:10, 1 Thessalonians 5:9).

signs in the sun, moon, and stars. wars and rumors of wars, people's love for each other turning to hate. the increased intensity of natural disasters and strange behavior of animals. every other week some expert talks of world distinction events in our future (AI, or famine, or disease, or WWIII). God has sent dreams and visions to all people about the times about to happen. you can feel there's something weird about the world right now. God is speaking loudly.

now is the time to repent, accept the sacrifice for your sins and put your faith in Him. now is the time to step into the Kingdom of Life that will never pass away 💙✝ "For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, so that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life (...) There is no judgment against anyone who believes in Him. But anyone who does not believe in Him has been judged already, for not believing in God's one and only Son." (John 3:16, 18)

transcript:

Helel: What did they say that gripped your attention so much?

Girl: Prince Helel. She was just telling me about life in the Logos Kingdom compared to the Erebos Kingdom. I haven't really decided where I want to live yet.

Helel: Pffeh, I can assure you, she greatly exaggerate. I've been to the Logos Kingdom. Those people are practically in chains and they don't even realize.

Girl: ..But you rule the Erebos Kingdom. Doesn't that make you a little bias? Either way, I'd still like to decide for myself.

Helel: Of course, of course! Take all the time you want. We'd love to have you!

(years pass)

Girl: Helel, what's happening?!

Helel: That, my dear, is a curtain call.

Girl: I don't understand-

Helel: It's time you came with me.

Girl: Wait-! But I never picked a kingdom! I'm still on the fence-

Helel: Oh, I'm terribly sorry for the confusion! You see, I OWN the fence!

Girl: No! Get off me! I thought I had more time! Stop-!

Girl: King Yeshua!!

Helel: No, sshe'sss mine! Sshe waited too long-

Yeshua: (Release her. Serpent.)

Helel: (Fine. But they won't all want sssaving~)

Girl: Thankyou, thankyou, he almost had me! If You didn't... I'm so sorry. Please don't send me back to him-

Yeshua: I came to you when you called, didn't I? You made your decision. And I'm so Glad! Allow Me to welcome you home, Dear One.

#christianity #jesus christ #God #faithstuff #faith #rapture #tribulation #bible verse #bible scripture #religion #religious art #satan #lucifer #yeshua #digital comic #my art #long post. #end times

[stxr-bxy]

pagan marauders hcs

in this universe paganism/real witchcraft = wizarding world and paganism is actually respected as a religion

most of them are hellenists but there are also roman and norse gods too

james

- works with athena

- he just loves powerful women

- or women in general tbh

- also works with apollon bc he’s the sun

- not super religious but goes to temple every Wednesday to visit the athena alter and on Sundays for the apollon alter

- makes a stupid amount of moon water because he uses it all the time

- no clair or psychic abilities but is very intuitive

- i imagine he got into hellenismos because euphemia is part greek (hence her name)

sirius

- prefers roman mythology over greek but is eclectic/neo pagan

- she works with Dionysius because they’re both drama queens and Venus because she helped him with embracing his femininity and feeling confident

- wears a carnelian necklace all the time bc she’s ✨that girl✨

- when she first quit weed she would smoke lavender because it puts you to sleep without causing highs

- goes to temple with friends to hang out and leave offerings

- had really strict catholic parents but never felt very connected to the church and god never really interacted with him no matter how many times he reached out

- his parents don’t think that being pagan = devil worship but they’re those people that think any god except theirs is a demon trying to hurt ppl

- was one of those tiktok witches for a while but then realized that witchtok is shit for information

remus

- he’s jewish but he’s still a witch so he still counts for this

- burns a lot of sage bundles

- Sirius sometimes goes to temple(jewish) with him so he’s not alone but most of the time he goes with his parents

- was actually smart about his journey and immediately bought books because social media is mostly bullshit

- he’ll sometimes go to his friend’s temple(pagan) with someone (usually sirius) when their other friends aren’t going or are working

- he’s very supportive and does have some idea of what’s going on

- except he keeps asking who some people are like some obscurer gods or mortals from myths

- “who’s selene again?” “for gods sake remus you ask this every time” “sorry. but still who is she” “the moon goddess remus…” “oh yeah”

- claircognizant, he just knows things

peter

- he was raised pagan because his moms are pagan (peter has two moms argue with the wall)

- works with freyja and demeter and goes to temple on thursday and friday for both

- he and marlene go for nature walks when it’s nice out and they sometimes look for crystals when they walk

- one time he found a really big quartz and took it home (he asked first ofc)

- also believes in animism and loves animals

- has a cat named luna (i have a cat named luna so i am projecting)

- clairvoyant, has visions and prophetic dreams

lily

- was raised jewish and even though she went along with it when she was young she didn’t really feel connected to god so she converted to hellenismos when she was 15

- works with persephone and aphrodite (i know they don’t get along but it’s fine because they’re not on the same altar)

- goes to temple on mondays and fridays for persephone and aphrodite

- meditates a lot and likes to make sure her chakras are aligned (i know chakras originate from hinduism but i’m pretty sure they’re an open practice any hindus can correct me in comments or rbs)

- loves rose quartz and opal

- always does her crushes astrology charts to make sure they’re compatible

- one of those girls with lots of incense

- when she was crushing on mary she wore so much rose quartz and carnelian to get her to notice her

- lowkey scared of tarot bc it’s way too accurate, she prefers oracle cards

- wears pentacle necklaces for protection

mary

- works with medusa (because of the hc that mulciber sa’ed her so she likes her story) and aphrodite

- veils on holidays and when she goes to temple

- reads tarot for people as a side hustle

- loves florida water and uses it a lot because she’s latina

- wears her evil eye/nazar a lot

- has a little home guardian statue and it’s a statue of a little cat

- bought her first veil from amazon and it had such a bad energy that she couldn’t cleanse out so she just threw it away

- when she goes to the beach she looks for shells to put on her aphrodite alter

marlene

- works with hekate and persephone

- has always loved the idea of witches since she was a little girl

- her parents were also strict catholics but marlene never believed in god, she knew somewhere deep down that he wasn’t as real to her as her gods

- her parents basically thought that witchcraft was the devil’s work and they never approved of it, they still don’t but now they’re used to it

- meditates during the full moon

- makes devotional playlists for her deities

- has lots of crystals because “i just think they’re neat”

- avoids doing shadow work but then her deities get mad so she reluctantly does some

- one of those girls who has rusty nails and dead bugs just so she can hex your ex

- clairaudient, was always confused by the ringing in her ears and what it meant

regulus

- works with hades and persephone

- loves the myth about them

- his parents raised him catholic but he stopped believing in god pretty quick because his prayers were never answered

- loves it when mary gives him tarot readings

- prefers runes to tarot but still likes tarot

- goes to temple on mondays because of persephone

- he talks with lily and marlene about persephone a lot and celebrate her return together

- his favorite holiday is yule because he loves all of the folklore surrounding it and the trees

- he used to charge his rose quartz in the sun because he didn’t know you couldn’t do that and then the color faded so he stopped doing that

- does lots of shadow work because he’s fucked up in the head

pandora

- a lot of people think she works with gods like iris or aphrodite but she actually works with nyx and hekate

- does scryings for people

- clairsentient, always picks up on other people’s emotions and the vibe of a room

- goes to temple on saturdays for hekate and with reg on mondays because the services include nyx and persephone

- one of those girls who used a spirit/ouija board and then all of witchtok came for her

- very experimental, uses egg shells in hexes and stuff like that

- also works with the fae and leaves them offerings for ostara and litha (and just in general)

- gives people little rocks and crystals she finds

- little kids love her and they always have such a good energy

- makes art of her deities

barty

- italian folk witch and pagan

- always wearing his nazar to protect from il malocchio cause he doesn’t fw that shit

- works with hades and hermes

- he’s half italian on his mom’s side so he got his practice from her

- uses people’s hair in his spells and no one knows where he gets it from

- “barty why the fuck is my hair in your spell jar?” “idk man…” “liar”

- messes around with tarot and runes when he’s bored

- goes to temple on mondays with reg and pandora and wednesdays for hermes

- clairvoyant (to go along with the seer barty hc)

- mabon is his favorite holiday because food

dorcas

- works with selene and hekate

- her and marlene love talking about hekate and honestly they could talk about her all day

- lowkey wanted to work with freyja at one point but she already has enough deities

- veils a lot for spiritual protection, can be as simple as a bandana or her hair braided but she likes regular veils too

- one of those girlies who walks barefoot in the forest

- grows her own herbs in her garden

- selenophilic

- needs to know everyone’s big 3

evan

- not super religious but still a witch

- he mostly does kitchen witchcraft

- he makes simmer pots and uses herbs when cooking

- hangs rosemary over his front door to protect

- has a cinnamon broom

- mops with rosemary water

- can’t meditate for more than ten minutes because he gets distracted or has an itch or something

- forgot to mention he worships luna, solass ( idk how to spell it) , and the mother (moon, sun, and earth)

- avid pentacle wearer

#marauders #dead gay wizards #au #regulus black #jegulus #james potter #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #sirius black #remus lupin #witches of tumblr #pagans of tumblr

[cto10121]

Twilight Clown Takes—Part 4

What is it about YouTube and its breeding ground for Twilight clownery???? Some of it is very basic clownery, too. Also, the fake outrage on behalf of the Quileutes by engaging in racist interpretations of the text is…something else. Regardless, there I came upon the feast, and so I shall eat.

“The Wolves Are Savage” and Other Racisms

What.

You mean those same books that described the vampires in the same way as beasts, who not only growl and roar and snarl, but literally cannot smell blood without going literally crazy like sharks? The same books that described vampires as almost entirely solitary creatures who don’t usually form covens (because then they would turn against each other in competition for their human prey? The same books that had nothing but evil red-eyed vampires (James, Victoria, the Volturi) until the very last book of the series where we are introduced to sympathetic non-vegetarian vampires (Garrett, the Amazonians, etc.)?

Meanwhile the werewolves keep their reason and intelligence intact while they’re in their wolf forms and do not suffer from bloodlust. Their dangerousness comes from their youth and inexperience in shifting—the oldest of the pack is Sam at 18 and he was literally the first and only one to do it without help.

The books adore the Cullens. But it makes it damn clear that they (and the Denalis) are the exceptions that prove the rule. Otherwise Twilight vampires are sociopathic beasts and, as Edward explicitly said in book one, the Quileutes are right to keep their distance. And no, this wasn’t by accident or ~bad writing. Meyer is deliberate in her framing, as well as her characterization of the wolves.

Tfw your accusation of racism is racist

Bella asked Jacob if he could stop being a werewolf because she mistakenly thought him and his wolf buddies were literally killing people. When she learned otherwise, she was literally, “Oh, no, Jake, I’m fine with you turning into a giant wolf. That doesn’t bother me at all.” (This is near VERBATIM, not even joking). Bella is a monsterfucker, after all. She’s just not into that kind of bestiality.

Tfw your accusation of racism is racist

Yes, because imprinting is something the wolves 100% have control over and it’s something they can reject. There is nothing random about imprinting at all.

Otherwise—once again—the wolves have vastly more control over their wolf forms than the vampires over their thirst (the Cullens and Denalis excepted). And of course, their body counts are close to zero—compare them to the Cullens and Denalis. Only Sam has injured another human and that was by accident. Even the hothead Paul has no kills or injuries, whereas his counterpart Emmett has at least three.

MORMONISM OMG

Because Mormonism is the only religion that values and reveres close family ties. Only Mormonism supports the patriarchal family and believes in the organization of society through the familial unit. Only Mormonism is heteronormative and actively homophobic. No other culture or religion gives a fuck.

(Also, the Prodigal Son??? Literally the most common and basic Biblical allusion ever. Literally every major writer has alluded to it, including Shakespeare. It is not just a Mormon thing, oh God 😭😭😭😭😭😭 This kind of clownery eats itself).

Bella Hate Dumb Round ♾️

Bella turned down Mike and told him explicitly that it would hurt Jessica’s feelings if she went with him to the dance. She did go to La Push with him and her friends and was happy that it was “so easy” to please Mike. She rescued Angela from having to answer Jessica’s annoying questions about Eric by changing the subject. She helped Angela and Jessica find dresses and explicitly enjoyed their girls’ night out in Port Angeles. She had zero opinion on Lauren until she overheard her shit talking Bella (literally) behind her back. She listened to Jessica’s date with Mike and was glad it went all right.

Bella being mean to her friends is clownery so easily debunked—at worst, she is not particularly close to any of them except Angela. If she was reserved or distant with them, it was because she hates any and all attention to herself, period. It was her first day at a new school where everyone knew each other, and was already overwhelmed with introductions and learning her schedule and teachers’s and classmates’s names. The behavior Edward notices in Midnight Sun does not go against her character in Twilight at all and is a continuation of this self-abnegating tendency.

Edward literally went to Italy to get himself killed by the vampire elite and explicitly said that he could not live in a world where Bella did not exist. Before that, he basically admitted that when he wasn’t hunting Victoria he curled up into a ball and let the despair take him. Meanwhile Bella did not consider suicide (though ~just barely) because of Charlie and Renée. After her one week coma period she did make an effort at keeping up appearances, which included getting all A’s even in her weakest subject, Calculus.

It’s disgusting, all right: A male character who cannot live without his woman. What kind of a message is that sending to our poor impressionable boys???!!!!!

Didn’t Edward literally stop murdering child molesters and pedophiles because his conscience got to him that it was, indeed, still murder? And didn’t at least one clown still complain about how Mormon it was of him to care for human life? Now the clowns insist Edward doesn’t care about humans and humanity at all.

Even if Edward did care only about Carlisle’s disappointment, it wasn’t because he considers himself his perfect son. If anything Edward suffers from the same kind of self-esteem issues as Bella—in New Moon, he flatly denies Aro’s praise/assertion that his self-control puts Carlisle to shame. Edward thinks of Carlisle because he loves Carlisle like a father and thinks the world of him. He did save him from permanent death, after all.

#twilight #twilight clownery #twilight clown takes #anti anti twilight #damn the vitriol toward mormonism is incredible #i’m an atheist so all religions are bollocks to me #we don’t even know how observant meyer is #because honestly a lot of twilight goes against the religious conservatism

[transgenderer]

In Religion for Atheists (Penguin, 2012) he tries to reconcile the virtues of religious faith with a non-belief in an objectively existing God. That’s perfectly fine; plenty of worthwhile thinkers (Bloch, Althusser, Agamben, Badiou) have tried to do the same. However, for de Botton religion is useful because it ‘teaches us to be polite, to honour one another, to be faithful and sober’ and because it can help us learn ‘how to face the trials of the workplace with a modest and uncomplaining temper.’ No it’s not. Religion is fire and passion, a point of connection between humanity and the infinite, the cry of the oppressed creature, the foundation of universalism. It’s meant to be vast and terrifying and emancipatory. In the face of the vastness of the Absolute Other all human distinctions are meaningless; that’s why so many radical liberation movements have been religious in nature. What this book does is try to turn six millennia of blazing fervour into a half-baked set of minute consolations. It’s an act of hideous violence.

That’s bad enough, but How To Think More About Sex (Picador, 2012) might be the worst book ever written. It’s not too long, but de Botton manages to squeeze into its pages an entire compendium of some of the most grotesque and ungodly sexual acts ever committed. There are the infamous blood orgies of the Mughal emperors, in which the slit throat of a young harem slave was used as a lubricant; there are the thanatophilic séances of certain Theosophist sects, in which the spirits of the dead were summoned and subjected to days of sexual torture; there’s the story of the medieval Saint Quasivermus of Caenumia, who held that congress with earthworms was the only unsinful carnal activity. His book describes every possible interposition of body parts with orifices: there are toes in nostrils, the practice of ‘elbow-fucking,’ and one instance in which an entire dwarf is inserted into an anus. The whole book is awash in a queasy sea of bodily effluent – blood, vomit, bile, cum, pus, piss. Of course, none of this is in the text itself, but it’s the unvoiced content of de Botton’s continual refusal to follow his title and actually think about sex. What he does is recoil from it. For him, sex is for procreation and to stave off loneliness; it’s always a fundamentally selfish act. Most of the time it’s a case of ‘squandered human energy;’ he continually resorts to the idea of sexuality being somehow base: a vestigal, degrading, primal urge we’d all be better off without. At one point he even upholds impotence as an ‘achievement of the ethical imagination.’ None of which is necessarily objectionable – maybe we would be better off without libidinality, free to concentrate on more important things like compiling spreadsheets of sporting statistics and overthrowing capitalism – except for the fact that de Botton never actually makes any argument for this position; he just presents it as a given. He doesn’t seem to even consider the idea that sexuality might be fundamentally related to how we can conceive of ourselves as people, or even that it might actually be enjoyable.

#(btw im pretty sure all those famous historical sex acts are fictitious)

[regicidal-optimism]

in response to this post by @fierceawakening, and specifically to 

So when I hear “the great rabbis debate!” I immediately go “can you? Do you get to decide all of them are full of bull, or do you have to pick one to be right on pain of shunning?” ... Or when I hear “our religion was stamped out!” I go “that’s UNQUESTIONABLY FUCKING AWFUL, but… the elders aren’t going to shun you if you opt out, are they?” Etc. And this is taken as me being insufferably white, when I’m just asking “are people SAYING you get to doubt but making ACTUALLY LEAVING a betrayal of your minority identity? Cos if they’re not then it’s fine but if they ARE, I still have a problem with that. Even though/even as I recognize that your religious group is oppressed and that is ALSO bad.”

I was raised Jewish. I say “I was raised,” and not “I am,” very deliberately, because I deconverted. And I assure you it is absolutely not the case that religions other than Christianity are perfectly okay with their members doubting and leaving.

Specifically I was raised Reform Jewish. You know, the ones there are so many of on tumblr saying that if you think their religion has issues it’s because you’re equating all religion with Christianity? Not one of the ones who deliberately don’t teach their kids English so they can’t leave (although those also exist!), the nice liberal ones who say it’s okay to not believe in God.

And maybe it is, in some synagogues. In mine? Sure, it was allowed, we’re not like Christians, but community leaders would look the other way if your peers were vicious and awful to you about it. (This happened to my brother.) Other community leaders would pick snide fights with you at every opportunity, calling you immature and stupid if you objected to this behavior. (This happened to me.) 

Reform Jews are the nice, liberal ones, who say it’s okay to argue with and question the Torah. And maybe it is, in some communities. But in mine? You could argue— but god forbid you ever arrive at the conclusion that something God had done was pretty fucked up. You could question all you wanted, as long as you got the right answer at the end. (Have you ever noticed how “the great rabbis argued with the Torah too” gets brought up whenever anyone points out that some of the things in it are awful, as if, once the rabbis raised those points, nobody else was ever allowed to again? I sure did.)

They’re the nice ones. They don’t believe in hell or anything, there’s nothing coming to damn the nonbelievers. It’s just that, you know, there’s so few Jews in the world because they keep killing us, and so it’s so important for you to stay involved and stay active in Judaism and marry a Jewish man and have Jewish children, and remember that when persecution comes again (and it will, and you should always be afraid of it, and this is not even slightly fucked up as a thing to indoctrinate children in) it’s the Jewish community who will have your back. Nothing coming to damn the nonbelievers— except the constant, quiet pressure that comes when everyone around you treats deconversion like a kind of genocide.

And Reform Jews are the nice, liberal ones, who know and use the language of social justice. They’re the ones who’ll tell you it’s antisemitic and siding with the oppressor to talk about how any religion other than Christianity can traumatize people. And sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who can see what a giant, screaming red flag that is.

#if you don't have anything nice to say say it in yiddish #the nothing and the no one's rose #discourse cw #grace dot text #posting this might be a bad idea but sometimes i like to live dangerously. carpe die or whatever

[astrovagrant]

Oh please give us your bg3 review IGN style

69/420 not enough gates

more genuinely (trying to keep this mostly spoiler free but there are a few for act 3 characters and brief discussion of the end of the game):

pros -

before you even see any of my petty complaints: bg3 GOTY no contest. i just have an opinion about everything on earth. okay let's keep going.

extremely well crafted characters and, in most cases, character arcs. fleshed out, feel real, feel lovable even though they are all so distinct. quality of character design and voice acting goes without saying. really powerful reflections on power and those who abuse it and the myriad of ways that power can be inflicted on others - on their bodies, on their minds, how it shapes them, how they can recover and heal from that.

wonderful attention to detail in almost every sense - storytelling, beautiful world, wonderful combat variety and interest save for a few standout "you just want this to be Hard so you put More Enemies In" exceptions, cool items, adventuring feels fun, there's plenty of secret things to discover.

just so fun to play and explore and exist in the world. if one beat isn't landing, there will be five more elsewhere that will. there is something to love for everyone in this game.

i was raised on forgotten realms rpgs and (obviously personal bias here) this scratched an itch so deep inside me that i hadn't realized was basically unfulfilled except for by a few rare exceptions. i loooooove a good fantasy rpg. baldur's gate 3 is a Really Good fantasy rpg.

i love you jaheira. if there's an old lady in a video game with a positive relationship to my pc that i can get emotionally attached to I Fucking Will.

dammon i also love you please call me, vesper, the real person. anathema the in-game player character can go do whatever she's gonna do but me and dammon should meet up. i wanted to be a blacksmith when i was 14 is that doing anything for you.

larian took the opportunity to play with some underlying assumptions that have been built into the world of d&d since it was created, most specifically "is there such a thing as inherent good or inherent evil". this is a very strong through-line, but it leads me into our next sectionnnn [drumroll]

cons -

no fat people. this is frankly just kind of embarrassing in a way that will make me incandescently angry if i think about it too long <3

pacing between acts is not the best. they wrote and built themselves into a corner with act 1 being the early access phase and i kind of wish they had been willing to Alter act 1 in a meaningful way to correct the rest of the game. this is probably my Biggest Core Complaint that has the largest leg to stand on. i'm not going to go into further detail because it requires extreme spoilers.

simplistic interaction with the concept of religion in a game world dominated by gods and their machinations.

unfortunately subject to many of the frustrating facets of the d&d multiverse. druid's relationship with nature vs. civilization. paladins in their entire. i could go on but this isn't really larian's fault, and they already were playing with...

the concept of intrinsic good/evil mentioned above AND the discussion of abuse/power/etc. - this was very interesting and powerful to me. the act structure pacing was kind of fucked up from inception. this all combined into what i felt like was a... Perfectly Fine but Honestly Weirdly Flat ending. it's serviceable. i will probably never think about it again until i replay the game. when i compare it to some other rpg game endings, it feels almost as though it's an afterthought, a thing to be checked off a list to say 'i'm done' - not a meaningful resolution to these questions and concepts they spent so much time and effort setting up. this is obviously my personal opinion and it probably landed differently to others, but i found myself feeling like the game had already ended with the resolution of actual core character dramas earlier in act 3, rather than the Actual ending. it didn't say anything important to me in a game that had already gone well out of its way to say MANY important things to me, and thus it felt very odd.

vesper's feeling petty category (ACTUAL WRITTEN-OUT SPOILERS) -

orin was my favorite of the chosen and i wanted her to be scarier and more of a genuine menace. the bhaal cult stuff was some of my favorite in the game but i wanted it to take a genuine detour into being a horror game for just a lil bitt

love the emperor specifically his extremely divorced energy with the pc. however. he spends the entire game constantly saying how much he hates the elder brain, how much he hated serving it. you can go out of your way to be kind to him, connect with him. he IS a bastard and i don't want to diminish that in any way, but i feel like the orpheus/emperor decision was nearly arbitrary in how it got resolved - binary switch, none of your repore-generation with yon emperor means Anything; he's spent all game manipulating you (in a nearly player-like fashion, might i add, which i thought was fun) and yet also is clearly attached in some fashion; you could argue that his apparent vulnerability and attachment was also just a manipulation tactic but i would have liked to be able to influence him for just a moment. a little reverse osmosis. we've been doing everything your way, babe, let's do it my way for once. AT THE VERY LEAST: why did he join the netherbrain. that just feels silly for his character. him throwing a fit and saying "FINE you can't fire me I QUIT" and fucking off would've still been better than going over to the netherbrain. imhco.

i liked durge soooo much but the reveal was a TAD too "oooooooh YOU'RE revan" for me.

i know i already wrote about this in the cons section but GOD the jumbled act pacing. this could be a full essay on that alone.

^^^ sorry one more sentiment about that. it kind of ruined the building of atmosphere in this game and that's so sad to me because i love Atmosphere more than almost any other game trait and when games pull it off? they become immortal inside of me.

there are clearly so many spots where something got cut and nothing filled the gap. in most cases it's tolerable; your brain can glide over it. in SOME cases it's so obvious that it becomes distracting and frustrating - the missing niece vampire in cazador's mansion, karlach and gale's companion quests Writ Large, yetcetra.

what the fuck is going on with halsin's writing. he's a delightful hunk of a man who doesn't seem to realize he's the stupidest druid alive who can't decide his actual philosophy one way or the other. not his fault. i just want to know what the hell happened there.

MISSING OWLBEAR CONTENT I WANT TO SEE MY BOY GROW UP BIG AND STRONG BUT HE JUST ARRIVED TO THE FINAL FIGHT ALREADY BIG???? I FEEL LIKE I MISSED MY BABY'S FIRST STEPS AND FIRST WORDS I FEEL LIKE THE WORST PARENT ON EARTH.

#bg3 tag #long post #genuinely love this game and also this is a safe space for kvetching #baldur's gate 3

[chopper-witch]

Ritual 777 - Ch 4: Vendetta

Eddie Muson x female!reader; Jennifer’s Body!AU --> kind of changed into a general just cult AU

Minors DNI. I will find and tell your parents or guardians.

Story title inspired by Ritual 777 by Temple Twins | Chapter title inspired by Vendetta by UNSECRET, Krigaré | Full playlist (working - not finished aka will change)

WC: 7,000+

Summary: The ritual worked for them. They get what they want and you get to kill to live. That doesn’t really seem fair, does it? 

Warnings: murder; revenge; more religious nonsense; I talk about antisemitism; if cults trigger you I really do suggest you stop reading now even though only Crowley’s nonsense is mentioned at the moment>

A/N: This chapter has no Eddie in it at all again. He is coming, I swear. I really do. He comes in chapter 6 if you want to just wait until then and skip everything else. Yes I stole Erin Greene from Midnight Mass what about it.

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Killing prominent men is not the best idea, you conclude. No matter how tempting, how delicious, how satiating and fulfilling. 

You try to seek out less prominent men, men who aren’t pastors. With the mysterious disappearance and reappearance of that kid, who supposedly died but then didn’t or whatever, it isn’t too hard to pass the deaths of the two men — men who are drunkards and abusers and awful people, who are found in a creek a week later or so and probably chewed up by animals — off as a part of whatever mystery seems to be going on in Hawkins. 

Time grows between each kill. 

The need staves off. For a few weeks. Then over a month.

It comes back though.

Always. 

Killing people, even if they are shit, should be prickling at your conscious a little, at least. There should be a pit in your gut telling you this is wrong. Because it is. It is. 

But every time all you hear is how right it is. How beautiful. How this is what they deserve and how you are better than a god because no god actually punishes the evil. God will send a flood and then rebuild the world. But isn’t Satan supposed to recently torture you for all eternity? 

You’re certain other religions have it different, but you haven’t bothered to check quite yet. 

So maybe you are evil too, you conclude one day. But so what? 

And every kill ends with the world singing a little more, looking a little brighter. Skin a little clearer. You notice new things. Like the hum of the lights even after they are off or the trickling of water through the pipes above the hallways or the going-to-be sunspots on Cherie’s skin or the fried edges of Kayla’s ‘natural’ red hair or that Mr. Schaefer and Mrs. Yates are having an affair. 

It’s the dreams that are haunting. 

Like a bad recording on a sitcom or something, those laughs will play on repeat no matter what you are dreaming - good, bad, neutral. Every single night.

And every single night, you wake suddenly. 12:35 on the dot. Waking gasping, panting, surroundings fuzzy and unrecognizable.

But the pressure in your back is that of your mattress, not a cold rock in the woods of Hawkins. Your hands press into the cotton of your sheets instead of the leaves and dirt in that forest. There is no cheering in the distance to indicate the party is still raving and no one is looking for you. There is just the sound of the Park’s TV from the apartment next door and the buzz of electricity through the walls. 

Your eyes always turn to the clock on your bedside to see 12:35 bright before you. 

12:35 AM. 

12:25 AM. 

12:35 AM. 

12:36 AM.

And you always turn away from the clock then, returning to sleep. 

Thankfully you need less sleep than you needed before.

Everything else is going fine — great even — until the list of students who got early acceptance is dropped in front of you the last Monday before the break, December 12th. It’s a thing to announce it on the morning of the last day before break. You scan the list looking for any of the seniors you might know beyond just passing in the hall. 

Not really, except for four names:

Greg Halcolm

Seth Jackson

Chase Kline

Devin Scott

Your breath catches in your throat. 

“You okay there?” Jackie asks. 

“Yeah.” You look up from the paper to find the world off-kilter. Tilting… tilting… swirling. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. Kelsey, can you start the meeting for me?” 

You slam your hands on the sink and stare at yourself in the mirror. 

It worked for them. It worked. It wasn’t a fucking fever dream. You aren’t in some weird nightmare. They get everything they ever wanted, and you’re stuck with something in you that you never wanted, never asked for. 

They get a dream life, and you’re stuck killing to survive.

No matter how powerful you feel, how strong you are, 

that isn’t fucking fair.

“This is so fucking stupid,” you whisper to yourself, pacing in front of the door.

Going to the public library after school to ask about sacrifices isn’t something you should be doing in a town where they are still looking into the pastor’s violent and cruel death. Where the librarian might hear the word sacrifice and call the fucking cops on you. 

Or worse. 

The clergy. 

You go inside anyway. You’ve pushed off finding answers for nearly a month and a half now. Answers mean it’s real, after all. That it isn’t some fever dream or some weird illness you refuse to get checked out. But something supernatural actually happened to you that night. 

You cannot keep denying what is happening. Six men are already dead across Roane County. Something is inhabiting you — or you became something — and without answers, the bodies will just keep piling up. You can already feel the need for more coming on. 

So ignoring the gnawing in your gut telling you to run, that twist and sinking you felt as soon as Chase kept moving you past the fire, you walk in. Even if something goes wrong, you’re strong. You’re fast. You can get out of it. 

The main librarian is at the desk. 

She knows you. She knows you are a good person. That you just like to read into things. Research random things. Like that one summer, you spent a week reading into human anatomy and specifically its decomposition. 

Nothing is wrong.

You lay your hands flat on the counter. 

Show I’m not a threat. My hands are empty.

“Hi.”

She smiles. “Haven’t seen you for a few weeks at least. How can I help you?”

Inhale. Exhale. Relax. 

“I have like, a really weird question.” 

She does her classic half-shrug, still smiling. “I’m sure it is no stranger than what we usually get. And definitely no stranger than what you normally ask.”

She laughs. 

You laugh too. It’s terse and short and clearly stunted.

Here goes nothing. 

“Do you have a section on occultism? Sacrifices even?”

There is a pause between you two. Your gut scrunches again; your legs begin to ache. It’s time to go. This is how you get caught, idiot.

“Hm. Not really,” she answers. Your body continues to tense up. “The community college probably does. But I can check real quick.”

You thank her, voice constricting with stress. 

Despite the fact that her voice was steady and honestly curious, you still watch her intently as she turns to the computer at her desk, which is right next to the phone.  

There is a thud from your right, and your head snaps to it, your heart rate increasing.

Just some kid who knocked a book over. 

The typing grows louder, harsher. Angrier possibly. 

A screech from your left. 

Just a chair being pulled too hard. 

A slam. 

Just a door. Not even being closed hard. 

There is a sudden rush of water. The pipes are no longer something you’ve filed away in the back of your mind, ambiance noise like so many other noises in our daily lives. It’s been drawn to the forefront as your brain scrambles to find the danger.

“It looks like we do.” She looks up at you right as you look back at her. “We do have a very small section, only a few books. By the cultural studies.”

Despite your whole body shaking, you nod as smoothly as you can. “Okay.” 

“May I ask what this is for?”

You planned for this. You know what to say to this. Time for the most classic excuse in the book when it comes to weird things in the library — I’m doing research. 

“Getting a head start on a paper I know I have to write next semester.” 

Perfect. Leave it.

“Yeah, for English. Comparing a theme in one of our choices to real-world kind of things.” 

Why did you keep talking, you idiot?

“Oh, what are the choices?” She adjusts her glasses. “I don’t know what would require research on sacrifice.”

Sacrifice. Sacrifice. Sacrifice. 

Romeo and Juliet? No. Too typical. 

Les Miserables? That’s never been on any reading list for Hawkins. 

“‘The Tempest’,” you finally blurt out. “Deals with a lot of magic, ideas of sacrifice and self-sacrifice. So I wanted to get ahead on reading some sources on what people may have really done for religious or magical sacrifices instead of just what was put on for show.”

Please work, please work, please work.

“Oh. That’s actually very interesting.” You exhale quietly. “You’ve always been such a bright student! See if what we have is of use. If not, RCC definitely will have something.”

You just nod in response, trying not to be too quick to walk away from her careful watch. 

It turns out useless. All that stress for nothing. For three books. 

Some nonsense book written by some bishop about the dangers of occultism. Another about the terms - short and without any actual information. The third is another hundred-something page rant about how sacrifice is bad, except when the Christians did it throughout history. Like during the black plague, when they burned Jews to death because God was angry with sinners.

Yikes.

RCC it is.

December 21, 1983

“Semester is long over. What’re you doing here?”

The voice tears you from the pages you’ve been absorbed into for hours. Hours, you know, given it is now dark out and you arrived sometime around noon. 

A woman is standing just down the row of tables from you, observing you. Not looking, observing. Eyes narrowed slightly, mouth every so minorly pursed, fingers wrapping around the strap of her bag just a little too tight. 

“Oh. Sorry.” You shift in your seat. “I was told the library was still open.”

She begins to walk toward you. Her eyes open and lips pull into a slight smile. 

“It is. Just never seen a student pour over so many books in the middle of winter break.” Whom you now presume is a professor stops in front of you, looking at the book you are reading. “Ah. Crowley. This hasn’t been opened by many other students. And you look a little young to be a college student.”

Her eyes narrow again. There is something so soft, so gentle about her face, her gaze. But at the same time, the scrutiny placed in that slight scrunch is enough to spike your heart rate. A primal thumping to your heart from your brain. 

A warning.

“I’m a junior at Hawkins.” You stand, moving to grab the book. “Sorry. I’ll go.”

“Don’t.” You look at her again. The shot of adrenaline from her prior look subsides. The smile she has is gentle, like something you’d expect to see from a preschool teacher. “I’m Professor Erin Greene. I teach religion, mythology, and lore here. Send a lot of students to search for a good myth to do a paper on. They come back hailing tales from Greece or England or Japan or Mesopotamia. I always hope one of them will find something a little more weird and sinister and real.”

“Like Crowley?”

“Like Crowley.” She glances back down at the book. “Why are you reading into Crowley?”

You lick your lips. The same excuse you gave to the librarian could work just fine. But this is a professor of myth and lore. Someone who won’t run off to the cops if you say something that sounds batshit insane. 

“There’s been a lot of people dying or going missing in Hawkins and it started after I heard some kids on Halloween joke about satanic sacrifice,” you decide upon, chuckling slightly at the absurdity of even the made-up situation, which is much more reasonable that what actually happened. “It’s ridiculous, but I can’t get it out of my head. So I just had to look into it. Whatever I could. To see if it could be real. Any of it.” 

“And is it? Is it real?”

She has given you a chance to say no. That it is all a lie and nonsense and that the supernatural does not exist. An out from the hole you’ve begun to dig.

“It is,” you reply anyway.

Or am I fucking insane. 

She smiles. Smiles so bright and proudly. 

“I think so too.” Her hands begin digging in the bag she has slung over her shoulder. “I’m teaching a survey of evil throughout cultures class in the summer. You should take it. You might even be able to skip a class in your senior year for it. Some schools don’t like that though.”

“Evil throughout cultures?” 

“Yeah. Every culture has an evil.” She places a small card on the table and begins to write something down. "So the class is about looking into them, discussing them. What makes them similar, different, could they all be descriptions of the same thing? You just need permission from your parent and if it’s gonna count towards your high school classes from your high school. But you should take it, especially if you are spending your winter break pouring over Crowley.” 

“I’ll consider it.” You look at the card. Summer, RCC, RML-1307, E. Greene. “If I’m curious about sacrifices specifically, and them going wrong, and the kids specifically joked about Babylon, who should I look into?”

“Crowley is pretty decent for Babylon stuff, as you’ve probably already seen. Sounds like you need some more biblical reading too. Here. Let me give you a list.”

“Thank you.” 

“Never going to deny an interested mind.” 

Her hands go back into her bag to find something more than a little card and procures a large notebook. Pages upon pages are flipped through until she finds a blank one. Your eyes catch notes as she does so. Notes about succubi and incubi and summing methods and demonology; notes about angels and God and gods; notes about women versus men versus other genders in myth and lore. 

So, someone who is at least dedicated to the subject of what you’ve been forced to become. 

She hands you a list of books, authors, and passages after a few minutes. 

“I hope to see you this summer. It’ll be filled with a lot of macho Christian boys trying to prove their brand of bastardized religion is good and want to feel satisfied by the class. They won’t get that from it. Someone like you, who is actually interested, could really benefit from it.” She pauses, opening her notebook back up. “What’s your name? So I can have it noted you are cleared to take it from my end when it’s available to sign up for.” 

You give her your name, and she writes it down, adding “Hawkins High” and “junior” alongside it. 

“Thank you, again.” 

“I added my office number to the list if you ever have questions. It’s nice to see someone actually interested in this topic.” 

She leaves then. Just walks off the way she came. 

An announcement comes over the speaker that the library closes in 10 minutes so to “please return or check out any books”.

You look down at your pile of 13 books. Limit for non-students is 2. 

December 29, 1983

“You’re coming to my family’s New Years’ thing right?” 

“Hm?” You slowly pull your eyes from the book, far too engrossed in the nonsense splashed across the pages. 

Well, it isn’t entirely nonsense. It’s just not written to make sense. It’s written to keep people listening to the prophet. 

Cherie groans and flops onto the overside chair beside you. “My parent’s New Years’ nightmare? Like every year? I just want to check.” 

God. Her parents’ New Year Eve party. Her parents’ any party. Just a bunch of rich people talking about rich things. It was fun at first, exciting. Come on, what kid doesn’t want to dress up and be at a fancy party? 

Now it is just excruciating. 

And you have something so much better to do.

“Of course, yeah. Might have to leave early, but I’ll be there. I’m always at everything. You know that.” 

It’s true. Always at every Beaumont function that Cherie is at like you’re her sister, despite the distance her family creates from you because you are... you.

In typical Cher fashion, her hands go immediately to try and grab your hands. She likes to touch, to interact, to be involved. You let her take your right, and as she begins to speak again, she looks over your fingers one by one. 

“Just checking. You’ve been acting fucking weird. And making my brother drive you to RCC every day early as hell and pick you up late as hell.” She holds your hand up close to her face. “What color is this nail polish? You’ve been wearing it for months, and I still can’t identify it.”

Human blood.

“Because I made it myself.” 

“Huh. Well, it looks nice on you.” 

She drops your hand, more interested in the book that had you enraptured earlier now that she has an answer to the great nail polish mystery. She tilts it back until she can see the cover, eyes narrowing to read the title. 

“The magic…ick… of Th… Thel — ah. Whatever.” Her eyes turn back to you. Deep, discerning near black eyes that match her mom’s so much. “Are you in a cult?” 

You roll your eyes at her suggestion. If only she knew. “No.” 

She raises her brows, long nails tapping the cover. “That shit looks like a cult.” 

You snap it closed. “Well, it is. But I’m not in it. It’s called research.” Your hand pinches her cheek. “Something you might need to do at some point, babe.” 

She slaps your hand away and grimaces. “Ew. No.” 

“How are you still in honors and AP classes?” 

She holds her hand out to check her bubblegum pink nails. “I’m rich.” 

You look around her overdecorated bedroom, covered in pinks and purples and white hardwood with marble top dressers and bureaus and a walk-in closet. Shoes and clothes that cost more than most people’s entire lives are scattered throughout. It’s larger than your entire apartment — which is paid for by her parents, who own the complex. 

“Yes, yes you are, babe.” 

December 31, 1983

You stare at the clock in the main… whatever room this is the mansion Cherie lives in from the corner, slightly behind a plant just waiting for the right time to leave. Cherie’s mom has come up to you about ten times, asking if you are all right. Normally you would have devoured an entire plate of her homemade sugar cookies by now, she comments, and you haven’t even had part of one. 

The diet excuse didn’t work when you tried it several times. “It’s just one night!”

I’m not feeling well wasn’t particularly effective either. “Let me get you something else!”

So, despite how much you love and adore Mrs. Beaumont, you’ve spent the past hour avoiding her the best you can. 

“What are you doing?”

You tear your eyes from the clock. 

Steve Harrington. Of all the people to distract you. 

“Shouldn’t you be off at some ball fondling party?” You sneer.

Steve shrugs. “Apparently, it would ‘look bad’ if I didn’t show up for the third year in a row.” 

Your lips press together in an unsympathetic smile. “Must be so hard, Harrington.” 

His reaction is instantaneous, knee-jerking. He scoffs and groans simultaneously, which is unbelievably impressive. “You know you are pretty damn lucky too, right? You’re best friends with, like, the richest family in the state. One of the richest families in the country.” 

Yeah, lucky. Lucky enough to have your mom die out of state and her sister monopolize her funeral planning so you never got to attend, to have your dad leave, and to have your only living family that talks to you live hundreds of miles away and only let you visit out of sympathy. Lucky enough that you live alone at nearly 17 and have been for three years now because the one family you consider family doesn’t actually want you under their roof.

And damn lucky enough to be sacrificed in a ritual because no one would miss you enough.

“I don’t know.” You uncross your arms. “Being abandoned like some pet during a hurricane as a last nail in the coffin feels pretty unlucky, regardless of who my friends are.” 

For the first time ever, Steve just gives you a sympathetic smile in response. No sneer, no snark, no groan. “Yeah. Yeah, that does suck.”  

It’s weird having him not pull his usual douchebag shit. But if he’s going to take the night off, then good for him. You aren’t going to worry about it.

You glance at the clock. 

It’s time to go.

“This has been fun, but I need to go find people I actually enjoy.” 

Before he has a chance to get another word out, you are swerving around the cliques of people in thousand-dollar dresses and million-dollar necklaces, careful not to even come close to possibly ruining them. Because god forbid some random girl even breathes on them wrong. 

Cher and Ailise are exactly where you expect them to be: outside on the deck, huddling under a set of fancy outdoor heating lamps with a handful of other kids and teens who really rather be hanging out at an actual party or with friends than at this nightmare.

“Hey, Cher, Al.” The two turn to you from the seat they are sharing, practically atop one another. “Gotta go. Love you.” You press a kiss to Al’s cheek. “Love you.” You press a kiss to Cherie’s cheek.

Cher pouts. “So early? Why?” 

“Cousins want to call me at their midnight.” Excuse that is both ridiculous to make you sound upset but reasonable enough to let you leave. “Said it’s absolutely vital because it’s Nat’s first as an 18-year-old or something stupid.” 

“Lame. Whatever.” 

But Cher has a tight grip on your wrist, refusing to let you leave. 

“Cher.”

She releases you with some reluctance and an even bigger pout. God, she already must be drunker than you thought if she’s hanging onto you and Al like that.

You use the side path to go to the garage to grab your bike and backpack left with it. Avoid any more discussions about food. Your bike is affixed with fancy winter wheels Nic just had to put on it. You’ve been biking for over 10 years in the winter without Frankenstein wheels. It isn’t ideal, but you’ve done it. Nic decided they were absolutely paramount this year. That he had figured out the best way to make the winter car tires into bike tires and you didn’t have a choice. 

They’re good for the icy spots compared to worn-down normal bike tires. You will never admit it to him. 

Instead of the normal right you take towards the backroads and wooded paths to get home faster, you take a left towards the main road through Hawkins. A longer path. But the path you need to be on.

According to what you overheard the other day when you just so happened to be in the general store at the same time as them, right after midnight they’ll be going from Tommy’s party to something at Lover’s Lake. Unless they want to drive through the forest, the only route from Tommy’s to Lover’s Lake includes the main road. 

It’s their only option. 

There is a long stretch of straight road right after a sharp curve just about exactly halfway between the two locations. A perfect place to catch unsuspecting, probably drunk teens off-guard. It’s already a place where accidents might happen. 

New Year's Eve. Icy roads. Drunk, young drivers. 

So you lean against a tree along the side of the road, far enough from the curve to give them time to panic, and wait. 

Waiting ends up taking longer than you thought. Perk of being a demon, succubus, whatever is that you no longer feel particularly cold or hot anymore. So it is only boredom that plagues your mind. 

The waiting. 

The eyeing of every car to see if it’s that one.

The worry that maybe you got it wrong. That maybe they decided to stay at Tommy’s or left his way earlier or went somewhere else entirely and aren’t coming down this road. 

12:35 and you instinctually check your watch. 

12:35.

12:35.

12:3—

The sound of a car comes seconds later. It’s an ugly custom green BMW, painted by Nic Beaumont at his garage this past summer. He complained the whole time about the color, but if Chase Kline wanted the ugliest “shit-puke green” in the world, then he was going to have it. And he was going to be charged to all hell for it.

You watch the headlights as the car charges around the bed far too fast for the conditions. 

Once it has just made it into the straight stretch, you step into the road. Step exactly between the center of the road and the center of the lane. They either swerve to the right and right off the road or left and risk spinning out.

It’s a narrow road. They have to swerve hard to avoid you. Or brake hard. 

Either way, it’s icy and they’re already fishtailing from the turn they took too fast. 

So when the car goes swerving into the other lane to avoid you, it instead goes spinning and skidding right off the road and into a tree just off the road with a loud thud, crunch, and crumple.

Perfect. 

You just stand still for a few seconds, however. Give them time to process. 

Then you walk towards the car, where the four are shouting in panic and confusion. 

“What the fuck was that man?” You hear from inside the car. 

“It looked like a person!”

“No way a person would just stand like that. Had to be a deer or something.”

You knock three times on the cracked but not broken driver’s side window. 

Four heads whip to you. 

“Hi.”

Your fist smashes through the glass. 

“Get out of the car. All of you.”

“No shit,” Devin scoffs as he gets out from the back driver’s side, thinking you’re just there to help. “We’re not staying in when it could catch—”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’ve grabbed Devin and shoved him against the car, both arms pulled far and unnaturally behind his back. A yelp leaves his lips.

“Get out. And kneel down on this side, on the ground. Like Devin here.” You shove him down to the ground, back against the car, until he is kneeling. “Just for now.”

“What’s your problem, bitch?” Chase asks as he follows Devin’s lead. He’s already a little drunk and concussed from the way he sways as he drops to his knees, pretty blond hair covered in glass. “Stepping out in the road like… like some maniac!”

Seth falls in between the two of them, Greg nervously dropping to his knees on the other end. None of them are going to try to fight just yet. They’re too confused, too dazed from the accident. 

“Don’t recognize me?” You lean down until you are face to face with Chase. “I know you’ve been avoiding me at school, but I figured you would still recognize me.” 

The red coloring his face from the cold drains completely, and his annoyed grimace falls into an a gaping mouth. That sobers him up real quick.

“Oh shit.” 

“Yeah.” You chuckle. “Oh shit.” You stand back upright, towering over them. “Wallets.”

Chase laughs. Suddenly, this doesn’t seem quite as dangerous. “So this is just a robbery?” 

You sigh. “No. But I still want all your fucking wallets. Now. Toss them in front of you.” 

They all look to Chase. Of course, they do. Chase goddamn Kline is in charge. Is Chase gonna do it or not? Well, he does, pulling his wallet from his jeans pocket and chucking it a good five or so feet in front of him in the snow. 

He waits for you to run after it. 

You don’t.

The other three follow, however, and take out their wallets and also throw them as far as they can. Yeah, you know they must be thinking. Make her go far so we can run.

You don’t though. You just stare at them. 

“Arms out, wrists together.” 

They look to Chase again. Who does as you say. Some rope versus tri-sport athletes? Yeah right.

The rope you had bundled in your pocket is slowly wound around Chase’s wrists first. The man in charge. 

You know he is watching you wrap it intently and flexing his arms as much as he can. He wants a way out. You’re just a girl. Who cares if you got Devin earlier? They’ll be able to get you at the right moment. He knows that. He’s waiting for it. He’ll let you play your game.

There is a hand reaching for your right arm right as you go to tie a pretty little bow on Chase’s binds. It meets your left palm instead. With a quick twist of your wrist, there is a crunching noise around followed by wailing. 

“Don’t try to escape. Don’t try to touch me. Don’t try to move.” You finish off the bow. “I will break you.”

Fear begins to roll off of them. There is no way to stop the primal salivation that has been activated by your brain - especially given how long it’s been since you last fed - but you have to do this your way. They can’t just die. 

That’s too easy. 

The other three are tied much quicker than Chase. Seth was super fast, given that every bone in his right arm is shattered and twisted the wrong way, so you just needed to link the good one to the bad one to keep it from moving. 

Only once their arms are tied do you back up, eyes not leaving theirs, to retrieve the wallets. They are watching you too. Waiting for a moment to break for it, to run. 

You aren’t going to give it to them. 

Even if they did have a chance, they wouldn’t make it. But you don’t want a chase tonight. No. 

One by one you pick up each wallet, take the money out, stuff it into one coat pocket, and the wallet into the other. Rich teenage boys on New Years? Oh. They have too much money for their own good.

Too, too much. 

Then you go down the line again, one by one, and place their wallets into their coat pockets. Their stupid little varsity jacket pockets with their stupid little sports on one sleeve, already stained with blood from the crash. 

“So they can identify you boys when I’m done,” you explain, patting Greg’s shoulder. “Maybe. If the fire doesn’t melt the IDs.”

Greg’s eyes widen. “What fire?” 

“You…” You pause, tilting your head. “You won’t see, actually.” 

He is wearing a scarf. Green and yellow - gold it’s probably meant to be - and knitted. Probably made by his mom. One of the nicest people in this whole goddamn town and she raised a killer under her roof. With a smile, you pull the hand-knitted scarf of his up and around his face, pulling tight as you can. Once satisfied, the excess is shoved into his mouth.

“What are you going to do to us?” Devin asks, voice crackling in fear. 

He also has a scarf on.

“Do you know what you did to me?” Devin shakes his head. You keep talking, hands adjusting the store-bought scarf that you know cost at least a few hundred (Cherie has taught you your fabrics and stitches) until it is gagging him. “You were wrong. I wasn’t a virgin. Hadn’t been for a few years. But it doesn’t actually matter, I found out. Virgin or not. Because the kind of demon you summoned is not particularly fond of the abuse of the vulnerable. So it gave you wanted. Admission into your top colleges. The best girlfriends. Scholarships and amazing grades. But it also bound itself to your sacrifice. To me.” 

Seth whimpers. “We didn’t think it would really work.” 

“So you murdered a fellow student for… fun?” You ask as you do the same with his scarf. It has a little Hawkins’ High tiger at the end of its green and gold striped monstrous print. 

Lame.

“We were super high and drunk. We —”

You hush, shushing him like a baby. “Regardless. I would actually like to thank you. You set me free. Gave me something I never even dreamed of. A power I still have yet to learn.” Your hand reaches up to cup his face, thumb rubbing along his cheek softly. “But don’t you worry, Chase. I’m going to kill you last. After a little torture, of course. Seven times, was it?” 

You pull your hand away. “Yes, yes that’s right.”

The dagger flashes in front of him. The dagger he stabbed you with. Just something he got at that fucking army surplus store on sale.

He doesn’t have a scarf. He does have a high-necked sweater. 

The knife slides through the fabric like soft butter. His soft whimpering roars something deep inside of you awake. Something not just hungry, not just starving, but wanting. 

His fear, his pain is turning you on.

You slide the collar up and over his mouth just as you did with his friends. 

“Did you know seven is associated with the Whore of Babylon, just like little ol’ Greg here said?” 

You stand. Four gagged sinners kneel before you. As they should. As all people, all men, who don’t deserve forgiveness should be doing. 

“The Whore of Babylon. Mystery, Babylon the Great, the Mother of Prostitutes and Abominations of the Earth. The Red Woman.” 

The car shifts away from them as a piece of the snow bank gives way. They flinch and scramble forward the best they can as you just stand and watch.

Another pulse of adrenaline from them.

Another pulse of desire in you. 

You begin to walk as you speak, dagger being casually moved between your ungloved hands. 

“After doing some research, I discovered that incubi and succubi can be traced to her. Or vice versa, depending on the lore. Did you know incubus comes from the Latin words for ‘to lie above’ and succubus ‘to lie below’? Not necessarily male and female? Like concubines for kings and whatnot. That comes from to lie with.” 

The four give each other glances. You’re just… ranting. Ranting complete nonsense. Could they escape? Run for it? Scream loud enough through the gags you have them in alert someone?

Surely someone must come down the road at some point soon and see the car and a girl with a knife over four tied-up boys.

“And there are versions of sexual creatures in almost every mythology. Sex is a bad thing.” You pause, taking a beat to think, tapping the dagger against your chin. “For women, at least. That’s what I learned over the past ten days. I already knew that, but it really hit me reading about all these creatures that lure men and take the form of women. That are just created to blame. Or if they take the form of men, explain why a woman wasn’t quote unquote pure. Or something. Made up to excuse men’s sluttiness and deny a woman hers.”

You kneel down in front of Chase. He tries to lean back but the car is no longer there to lean against and if he leans too far he will topple. 

“Because men.” You stab his left thigh. He screams. You yank the dagger out. “Aren’t.” You stab his right thigh. He screams again. You yank the dagger out. “To.” You stab his left forearm. He screams a third time. You yank the dagger out. “Blame.” You stab his right forearm. He screams a fourth time. You yank the dagger out. 

He begins to sob. Blubber, even. And you can’t help but lean in close to better smell his individual fear.

His fear is particularly delicious in scent. It’s personal. It’s exactly what you have been desiring.

All of theirs are overwhelming, though. It pierces through the cold air. Fear is mouth-watering. It’s indescribable in scent, but it kicks in the same part of you that used to salivate over the lemonade Al would bring to Cherie’s that you three would chug like shots after playing in the pool, the same part of you that would eat an entire plate of Cherie’s mom’s sugar cookies, the same part of you that would bike miles for a watermelon slushy. 

Triggers something insatiable. 

Deep. 

Primal. 

Just controllable enough for you to terrify them some more. 

Devin lifts his head up as high as he can, eyes cast to the sky, not at you. And he cries out as loud as he can.

Your boot-laden foot meets his neck. His cries stop.

“I don’t want to hear another sound out of any of you. Another noise and all of you die right now. And I will leave you unidentifiable, and the car will disappear. Your families will never know what happened to you. Left wondering. Never knowing. Do you want that?”

There is silence beside the crying from Chase.

“That’s what I thought.”

You remove your foot and continue your speech, pacing and playing with the dagger once again.

“Well, before I was so rudely interrupted. I was going to say: Powerful, intense emotions make people taste sweeter. Fear and sexual pleasure are the best. Those tasty neurotransmitters and hormones add this… flavor.” 

You inhale heavily and close your eyes. Adrenaline. Cortisol. 

Come on boys. Saturate in it. Marinate in it. Let’s go. I’m keeping parts this time around. 

“Provide a kind of energy. The energy is also aura-based.” 

Your eyes open. All four are shaking. It’s cold, yeah, but not cold enough for the way they are shivering. Pools of red have already soaked into the snow beneath Chase to the point in which they are tunnels straight to the dirt. Hopefully the fire will take care of melting the snow enough that it isn’t painfully obvious that someone was stabbed first. 

“It’s possible to feed off just the energy, the intangible version. But that takes time, takes practice, and for some just isn’t enough.”

You lean down again, this time in front of Seth. The second one in line. His green eyes are brighter than ever before with the once white now red from tears of panic and pain. Heart rate is nearly 140. But he is falling into freeze mode and out of fight or flight. The struggle against his binds is completely nonexistent. 

“I haven’t practiced enough.” Then you look over at the finale two. Heart rates still high, still marinating in hormones, but any urge to fight or flight is slowed or stopped. “Only six kills, actually. And you boys are not worthy of leaving alive anyway.” 

Greg begins to mutter something quietly when he thinks you’ve looked away. 

But you can still hear him.  

Your hand wraps around his throat, squeezing hard. His eyes fly open. He's been caught, and he knows it. But you want to know what he was saying, muttering. He didn’t try to scream out, so it was something personal to him. Something he didn’t want anyone else to know about. Your free hand pulls out his scarf. It’s covered in spit and tears and soaked through, and nearly frozen in the parts that have been subjected to the Indiana winter for the past five minutes.

Gross.

“What were you saying?” You demand.

“N-nothing,” he pathetically mumbles. 

“No.” You pick the dagger back up and point it at him. “You were saying something. Mumbling it. I want to hear it.” 

“W-was just reciting the Lord’s p-prayer.”

You snort. Asking the Lord for help. What kind of sick joke. Sacrifice someone and still ask God for protection when the day of judgment comes upon them. 

“Say it.”

Greg gasps. “What?”

The dagger presses into his cheek. It is sharper than it was when they used it on you now, and a line of red begins to flow without you ever pulling away. “Say it. Say the prayer. I want to hear it.”

Greg glances at his friends. The desire to consume him is growing which is going to make your plan to essentially harvest them much, much harder.

“Don’t look at them.” Your hand slides up his neck until your nails are digging into his cheeks, crescents appearing beside the gash he is now sporting. His head is forced to turn back to yours, and you stare into his scared hazel eyes. The swirling in you grows, thrums. “They aren’t holding your life in their hands. I am. So come on. I want to hear it.” 

You remove your grip entirely, the dagger following. 

“Our Father who art in-in heaven, hallowed be th-thy name.” He pauses, gasping for a breath. “Thy kingdom co-ome, thy will be done, on earth as-as it is-s in heaven.”

He stops, beginning to sob.

You groan at his blubbering. This isn’t torment, this is just him being sad. He needs to suffer. 

“No, no, no. Come on Greg. I want to hear the rest. You’ve got it.”

Devin gives him a nod of encouragement. How pathetic.

He attempts to hold in his crying, so you allow him this reprieve. He’s going to do it. You just know it. 

“G-give us this day our d-daily bread.” He stops, inhales shakily and continues. “An-and fo-forgive us our-our tres-trespasses, as w-we.” He stops again. He inhales shakily again, this time letting out a few more whimpers while he is at it. “Also have forgiven-en our trespass-pass-passers. And lead us not into tem-temptation, but d-deliver us from ev-evil.” 

And he bursts into sobbing again.

You lean back even more, smiling. 

Now that is torment. 

A good church boy praying to god while being tortured by the devil for the sins he committed. 

“Good. That was really good, Greg.” 

He smiles in return through the tears. You know just from the look on his face and slight abatement of fear from his scent that he thinks he just might get out of this. Just might.

So you lean really close to his ear, much, much closer than before, tongue sliding along his neck. So, so sweet. But not candy sweet. “But you got it wrong. There is no god. There is only me. And there will be no forgiveness.”

You don’t even pull away to look him in the eyes. 

You just sink your teeth right into where his thyroid sits.

Your skin tingles

“I am with you.”

“We are here at the scene of a fiery accident on the main highway in Hawkins. We have almost no details as of yet, but police are saying it looks like they simply skidded off the road after being spooked by an animal of some kind.”

The TV clicks off. 

The scar above your heart that was once just a blob is now a branding of a seven-pointed star. The one you saw is associated with Babalon. It burned into your skin on your seventh kill. 

Seven stabs. Seven kills. Seven points.

You press the cup to your lips, smile, then drink.

The scar hums.

There is something extra delicious about revenge. 

But it definitely is a dish — or drink, rather — best served cold. 

A/N: sorry for the delay on this as well. I got so distracted lmfao by other ideas

Prior Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

#ritual 777 #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x female!reader #Jennifers body au #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic

[liketheletter-l]

Do you have a favourite episode of community or any thoughts on the series? I saw you reblog a post earlier about it and there aren’t a lot of opportunities to talk about one of my favourite autism shows

OH MY GOD. OKAY

i can't even pretend i'm normal about community even a little bit, it's literally seared into my brain and is a permanent part of my personality. my sister @inalienable-wright and i are working on ranking all 110 episodes (she literally coded a program so that instead of having to work with every episode, it presents us with two at a time and we just pick which one's better, it's really fucking cool)

the question of a Favorite Episode is really complicated to me, because i could think of at least fifteen off the top of my head that make me about the same amount of Deliriously Happy so here are some, in no particular order:

2x21 Paradigms of Human Memory

3x19 Curriculum Unavailable

3x04 Remedial Chaos Theory (duh)

3x05 Horror Fiction in Seven Spooky Steps

2x14 Advanced Dungeons & Dragons

2x08 Cooperative Calligraphy

1x10 Comparative Religion

1x19 Beginner Pottery

2x06 Epidemiology

2x15 Early 21st Century Romanticism

3x01 Biology 101

2x01 Anthropology 101

3x07 Studies in Modern Movement

1x17 Physical Education

1x07 Introduction to Statistics

6x01 Ladders

rambling thoughts about the series as a whole under the cut:

As you can see i obviously like seasons 1-3 more, and honestly if i kept listing favorite episodes from those seasons it would go on and on, because s2 and s3 esp are just ALL-STAR seasons (with a few exceptions, obvs. 2x18 and 2x20 come to mind for instant skips)

that being said, i liked seasons 4-6 fine. s4 isn't necessarily the level of absolute dogshit everyone says, but it was indeed bland compared to the vivid colorful witty hijinks of s1-3. it's hard to pinpoint because you're mostly noticing the ABSENCE of something; most of the actual episodes aren't Bad, but they just don't compare to the seasons before.

season 5 has a lot of good material that i can't rewatch Or i will literally fucking die. G.I. Jeff is a fucking masterpiece imo, geothermal goes without saying, Advanced Advanced DnD & the meowmeowbeenz episode were both funny as fuck, the ass crack bandit ep was gold, and most of the other episodes are solid. it's just Sad. there's just an incredibly melancholy and depressing tinge to the entire season and it makes me fucking SAD

season 6 i found very fun because i love frankie and elroy, but most of the episodes are too goddamn tragic to even rewatch just because it just feels hollow. there are some very funny parts of the season! but overall, it felt like they were trying to cram in the usual amount of hijinks, when really they only had 13 episodes to give these characters a satisfying send-off, and it ends up just leaving jeff and britta in particular at a STARTLINGLY low point to close out the entire series. i watched 6x13 at about 4am the morning before an exam and i cried so hard i started dry heaving to be honest

the only way i can watch the first three seasons is by pretending everything after the s3 finale straight-up Doesn't exist. i believe that the showrunners did (mostly) the best they could with the string of production disaster after production disaster post-season 3, but the ending is simply So fucking tragic.

our beautiful codependent insane found family that we've spent 3 seasons watching become closer and care for each other and get into trouble together just slowly, painfully gets picked off one by one. it's not even a clean break it's an Agonizing decay. i have to try very hard not to let it sour the rest of the series for me.

This is why we write fanfiction though! (i do wish there was more content focused on the study group as a whole rather than just trobed, but such is life) you should definitely DEFINITELY check out my sister's writing here because her community fic is fantastic

overall i think this show is one of the best ever made & i literally cannot express in words Just how close it is to my soul. it is inside my heart. it is literally part of me (im normal)

PLEASE HIT ME UP TO TALK ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#community #Im normal im so fucking normal i promise #letter chat #thanks for asking! #asks

[ayameyumesaki]

Tokyo Babylon - CLAMP Premium Collection - Commentary Part 12

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Welcome to the latest installment of this commentary, that we finally reached the halfway of this story. I don't know what hits me to do this thing but, 3 months are pretty long isn't it? At this rate, I will finish this commentary by the end of the year lol

Anyway, FINALLY, Save.B. Oh my, a classy, beautiful chapter about high school problems that was solved in a not-so-nice way by a certain triangle bastard. Of course, it's a sarcasm.

Ah, a classy, normal chapter cover by Subaru biting his student card. Is it even legal? Is it okay??? Also his shoulder turning triangle doesn't look fine. Someone please stop him from hanging out with Seishiro.

Let's start the chapter!

Where were we last time? Oh right, Subaru infiltrated MS Institute, Hokuto told Seishiro about him and he had a hilarious expression regarding that. So, we started the chapter with Nagi Kumiko (bolding this becuase her name and Hashimoto's is similar) giving a quite religious lecture.

She said, inside everyone, there is a God. The reason why everyone can do their best in their situation is because all of them have a God within themselves. The students are great existences by itself. Please be confident about yourself, please be kind to yourself. There is no one unneeded in this world; everyone is Gods, everyone is an only existence.

That's why, please forgive yourself. Please forgive anyone else. Then, please be strong.

I don't want to comment much about her seemingly nice speech, but do I believe her words or not? I do agree that each human is their own being, that each of us is different from the others, and because of that, we should treasure and be kind to ourselves. But her words that say "everyone each is a God" is quite..... I don't know how to say that. Off? It depends on how they view themselves, and this is what makes this lecture seemed to be strange.

First, I must explain how religions work in Japan. If you saw several asking videos to Japanese people about religion, they would confused. But they do believe that God exists. God is still a part of Japanese people's belief---they would come to shrines every New Year and pray for health, they would pray to the God every exams (lol), some of their holidays are dedicated towards God (Spring and Autumn Equinox, for examples) and finally, they also go to shrines after giving birth, when their children reach 3, 5 and 7 years old, and adopted Buddhist's style for the funeral. They, however, didn't notice it, because unlike countries that has religion as their basic principle, no one actually taught them about "God". They probably only thought that God is an entity beyond them, and that's it.

So, as the conception of God is different in Japan and probably other part of the world, Kumiko-sensei here used the fact that Japanese people doesn't understand the conception of God in their life to make them believe that they themselves are "God".

But the thing is, if they are one by one is a God, why should they listen to someone else? Why should they forgive someone else? Doesn't this explanation become contradictive?

Yes, if the listeners are sane enough to think right. The students came here are those who are depressed, troubled, and probably half-giving up their lives. And they are students ranged from middle school to high school---they are easy to be influenced by medias.

Damn, I can make an essay of this topic alone.

Let's move on. So everyone was kind of amazed by her words, and came to her, except for Subaru and Kuniko.

Subaru was, probably amazed and confused, as how she could make her students moved without raising her voice or forcing them to it. He then noticed another person that wasn't affected by the teacher's words😭😭 damn, it's so cute huhu

Kuniko was looking down, so Subaru glanced at her and when she noticed him, HE SMILED CUTELY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 KUNIKO WAS LIKE, "Don't touch me!" AND SUBARU PANICKED 😭😭😭 CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE

After that, the class ended and the teacher before called both Subaru and Kuniko to Kumiko's office.

Look at how ma boy seeming to be so nervous around woman. Kumiko told Subaru to not be nervous, and asked him what he thought about the institute. Subaru replied by "there are a lot of middle and high schoolers."

Then, she began to explain her view, that a religion is a "believing power"---if we believe at something, it will be our support to keep living. She said that the support she mentioned before could be religion, and the ones that needed this support the most is students. She then said, the belief about "children have no worries" is a lie. Children, just like adults, can't give up at something, that's why they have more serious, innocent worries. She said she wants to save such children.

She then told Subaru that he must have worries that he couldn't tell anyone as well, so she wanted to help him as well. She then talked to Kuniko as well and told her that their meeting in the park before isn't a coincidence, that helping her makes her happy. But Kuniko told her that she did what she taught her---doing her best praying, loving herself, but nothing changed. No one helped her in the class. :(

This teacher, then, told her that her praying isn't enough. The result shouldn't be hurried. She then said she knew that her classmates' attacks is hurting her, but she should believe that she can endure it. And she should forgive those people. Then Kuniko stopped fighting against her.

WELL, SENSEI. This is the thing... Praying without giving an effort to try it is also wrong. You won't get anywhere just by praying. I don't know which religion did you refer to but, miss, please. She is pretty much a con artist at this point---telling someone that he/she is a God, but she also said her prayers aren't enough. Maybe this is why her targets are children, hmmm.

At least, Subaru wasn't getting into her words, he even gave a comment that "this person, rather than a leader of a cult, she is like a music teacher"😭 and Kuniko-chan questioned her teachings. That's good.

The next day, Kuniko was confronted by her classmates for not coming to school (wtf indeed) and they bullied her as usual. But one of the girl happened to see a Subaru from a far (😂) and they ran away from the scene, leaving Kuniko alone.

Then Subaru, who is taking a stroll (like what the hell is he doing there, taking a stroll, when he needs to catch up school 😭 but it's cute and break is needed every other time so he is forgiven) saw Kuniko coming out from the trees and was surprised by it.

Subaru saw her wounds and asked her what happened, but Kuniko, probably hasn't realized it's a new friend she made in MS Institute and as he is still a stranger, told Subaru to get away and accidentally scratched his face ;;;;;;; Subaru didn't evade it, and received it, so Kuniko was surprised.

Yes, Subaru's tendency to accept wounds. Maybe Seishiro is right for questioning how he didn't die yet for given his personality lol

And then this whole scene 😭😭😭😭 Subaru took out the handkerchief that I believe to be made by Hokuto (because it has S initial) and the thing he said is, "my sister washed it yesterday so it's okay!". Kuniko was touched by Subaru's act of kindness and Subaru thought he should say something else, so he told her, "This is also ironed well!" and when Kuniko didn't respond him again, he proceeded to say "Di---did I say something strange???" 😭😭😭 CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE CUTE

Setting aside the plot, appreciation to how well this scene is written and how pretty Subaru's clothes that day. Subaru was extra pretty in this panel. I want to know what clothes Hokuto used, since she loves to use pairing clothes with Subaru.

Go back to the plot,

They then sat down in the swings where Subaru accompanied Kuniko. Kuniko asked why Subaru was there, then he replied that he happened to see it in the magazine. Kuniko explained that she met Kumiko in this park after she was bullied. She then said such bullying isn't cute; everyday, she was being hated and punched. The adults thought it was just a child fight, but when someone is punched and hurted, it's not a fight anymore, but an abuse.

Subaru asked if she told the teachers about that, but everyone said the same thing: "it's because you aren't assertive enough", "you are responsible for that as well". She then cried while saying "why am I being hated by the girls have to do with me not being assertive? What responsibility I have that I should be punched and stepped on?"

Then, that one sus teacher told her that "Kuniko-chan being bullied is because you don't know about yourself. You should love yourself more, and believe in yourself. There's no way that people won't understand each other. That's why, I know it's hard for you, but let's pray for yourself". That's why she prayed hard, that's why she came to study at MS Institute. But nothing changed, and she is still bullied.

It's a pretty sad scene... I didn't explain this in previous chapter, but as you know, bullying in Japan is pretty serious. If someone doesn't get into a circle, that's how they got bullied. Because they didn't belong to any party. Japanese people live by the feeling of belonging to a community, which is why they have what was said to be "honne" (one's true self) and "tatemae" (one's mask). This sense of belong to a circle lessened nowadays, but those who couldn't bring themselves to get into a circle was bullied. The bullying is often even more severe than what Kuniko went through, to the point they chose suicide or hiding themselves inside their room. This problem isn't solved yet even until now.

And what I love the most is Subaru's response to Kuniko's story.

Subaru lent Kuniko his jacket, and he told her, that he is sorry because he didn't know what to say.

"You told me such a story... But I know I don't understand even one per 10 billion of what Kuniko feels, so I don't know what to say."

His words and actions are simple, but I realized that, it was what Kuniko needed. For someone to not justify their ideals on her, for someone to actually listen to her story, and saying that she is being hurt to someone else is okay. I learned from him that not everyone wants to be given the solution, that they are okay with just being listened to. People thought, that once they were told someone's problem, they would like a solution. But no. Sometimes, they just wanted to be heard. Sometimes, they just wanted to be consoled by soothing words, that told them that their pain is okay, that they are allowed to say their pain.

For me, this is one of the most powerful scenes in Tokyo Babylon. Subaru is strong in his own way, and that power lies in his belief. And the words Subaru gave to her, is what makes her able to move forward. She conveyed her gratitude to Subaru's words.

Next scene! Hokuto and Seishiro were baking cookies when Subaru excused himself to go out. The song Hokuto sings tho, it's pretty hilarious 😭 Her song's lyrics is, "I'm a cute housewife. Wednesday and Friday are unburnable trash day. I'm also attending city's wife meeting la la" 😭😭 Damn, her desire of being a housewife.

Hokuto asked Subaru how is work and Subaru said there is no issue yet. So Hokuto gave him a cookie.

Subaru said the cookie is delicious and Hokuto was being happy LOL She then told Subaru to bring some as snack, and Subaru went out. Then Hokuto patted Seishiro's head as he didn't have much time to spend with Subaru as of lately.

Then, Seishiro asked Hokuto if it's okay for him to poison Subaru who has a strong moral and common sense, and Hokuto said "if it's Subaru, it's okay". But she added that if Seishiro made him crying...

"I will kill you."

My lady didn't joke around. She really threatened Seishiro with a baking knife and good to know she is holding into her words up until the end. CLAMP and their powerful women.

Anyway, the cookies was burned lol

Next! Subaru came to MS Institute and he asked Kuniko how her wounds. He also offered her the cookies Hokuto made and damn, the potential romance 😭

Damn, I would be whipped at the thought of Subaru. Totally can understand you, Kuniko.

Anyway, things happened after that. Kuniko was facing another bullying---this time, it was during art class. Her classmates were playing with her painting and she had enough when they decided to take Subaru's handkerchief and using it to wipe the paint.

So she began to fight back and attacked her classmates. She punched one of the girls and her other classmates tried to stop her. But one of the girls took her painting knife and stabbed her eye. She was bleeding so bad, but the first thing she did was grabbing Subaru's handkerchief---her memento of power, as it reminds her of Subaru's words. :(

It's pretty sad scene, but it tells us that Kuniko's newfound strength comes from Subaru's words that consoled her with his kindness. It's a sad, but it's also a powerful scene, showing growth from someone who is being bullied, to someone who can fight back.

Still, it's not CLAMP without eye stabbing, huh?

Next, Kumiko called Subaru to her office. Subaru thought he was being found out of coming here to investigate, but no.

Kumiko called him there to tell him that Kuniko was stabbed during class yesterday. Subaru was surprised, and...

Prepare yourself for another powerful scene in Tokyo Babylon.

He literally spilled the tea on the table and the teacher explained what actually happened to Subaru.

It was here that Subaru realized that her words are wrong. She told him that if Kuniko quitely endured the bullying, her friend wouldn't do such things to her. Her prayers aren't enough, and if it isn't enough, she wouldn't be able to become strong. One should be strong at heart and forgive everything. If one can't forgive a slight thing such us classmates' bullying, then she is weak.

She then told Subaru that she knew he had a power that differs him from normal people, and he was suffering from that power. She then told him to tell her his worries so he won't end up like Kuniko, and she wants to save him.

Subaru's response?

You can't save anyone.

He then asked her, "You aren't Hashimoto-san, but how come you can understand her heart!?"

He then asked her, "Where's the 'trivial part' about being bullied by classmates!? Why should we forgive classmates, who is the same age as us, but dared to punch and step on us!? How come you can understand a pain that you didn't experience yourself!?"

And his expression here? So beautiful.

He was saddened by the fact Kuniko's face is wounded. "A scar that wouldn't disappear from a girl's face. But you said that it's because her prayers aren't enough!?"

He then continued by, "You probably have a spiritual power which is stronger than normal people, but,"

"You, who doesn't understand someone else's pain but pretend to understand it, can't save anyone!"

Beautiful. Amazing. Talented.

Now, let's go to the most important question (😂).

Do I agree with Subaru's action? Yes. Do I agree with his belief? Pretty much yes but also confused

The thing is, I won't even question his belief IF I haven't read Crime chapter before this chapter. It's so funny because Subaru condemned someone wrong when he also doubted himself about similar matter a while ago.

While the two matters are clearly different, it revolved about the same theme: the meaning of saving someone to Subaru. In the Crime chapter, Subaru's mind was trying to save the mother from her own death caused by inugami. He believed that he should save the mother from finishing the curse, thus he lied about Mai's wish. He realized that he was wrong, and he even said it was for his own sake. In this chapter, Subaru condemned Kumiko for spitting nonsense about her belief of praying will save someone. He literally judged these two, despite the different situation, in the same way.

He judged them through his own belief.

Subaru has this belief of justice, that what he thought to be right and should be protected no matter what. This is why Seishiro told Hokuto if it's alright for him to poison someone with a strong sense of belief towards himself like Subaru, because, even Seishiro knew that Subaru's belief is stronger than anything else. Even more than his self-love.

While I also believed that Kumiko's words aren't right to address Kuniko's situation since she was hurt, and Subaru was right to be mad at her and told her that she spitted nonsense, I realized that he was that mad because in one side, he himself believed that Kuniko is hurting. If we go by Subaru's words, that no one can understand someone's pain as a whole, then why should he be mad at the teacher?

This is just the same as the Crime chapter; if he knew that telling a lie about the daughter's words is wrong, if his heart told him that it's wrong, why did he do that? Because it was the right thing to do at the moment, or simply, it's his belief that told him to lie.

It's pretty humanic. Subaru's portrayal in this scene is pretty human. It's common for us to lie when someone is seeking death, and it's common for us to be mad at someone who stepped on someone's effort to keep alive. We are shown here that Subaru is also the same like us, despite his abilities, which pretty interesting because this comes from someone with strong power.

And I believe that's what makes a certain triangle bastard amused and decided to come out at that moment.

What in the fuck are you doing here posing like a model next to the door, Sir. Subaru's "?" is so valid.

This one man literally came in, putting Subaru to sleep, and even told the teacher that he doesn't need to tell his name because she is going to die. He then said that through his investigation these past days, her spiritual power is true (if possible, can someone explain to me in which part her spiritual power is real??). Then Seishiro said since she built the cult 6 years ago, someone is confused. When Kumiko asked if he is confused, Seishiro said it isn't him and he isn't related to any cult. Then Kumiko asked "who is confused" and he replied with "Who is it?" in such a smirk lol.

(Continuation in the reblog!)

#tokyo babylon #sumeragi subaru #sakurazuka seishirou #clamp premium collection #sumeragi hokuto

[sacredlys]

sanctification

tw: general cult fuckery, heavy on sexism and sexist practices, mild gore

our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. 

like clockwork, the man begins to cry. it’s a shrill, pathetic sound that grates at his ears. when it comes down to it, they’re all the same breed of hypocrite. this one looks like he might piss himself in fear if yoon pushes him just a little further. 

if mother had taught him to act in complete subservience, father’s hand came in meting it out. cruel and aloof, without regard for the suffering of others. this was what he knew, how he operated, and what felt natural to him. there wasn’t a specific moment in his life where things u-turned toward the morally incomprehensible. like most things in his life, he’d been indoctrinated into it since birth. the morality of things mattered very little when you were serving a higher power— above all, god forgives those who carry out his will, even at the cost of their humanity. 

when father had first uncovered his mother’s scheme, he’d been furious. the kangs had been a pillar of the church for generations, having stood by the chois when the first commune was built in the early-70s. with this, of course, came power. his father’s family had always been wealthy. they’d taken the side of the winners without a second thought, with no consideration for the brethren who were suffering great inequities under their rule; all that mattered was that the kangs thrived. as with most things, history would rewrite itself eventually, and those who remembered this betrayal would soon die off— quietly, cruelly and, most of all, alone. 

what the kangs desired was the kind of power that money couldn’t buy. a god that would embrace all the sick, antiquated practices they wanted to partake in. the celebration of deviance under the guise of holiness. they found all this and more under the leadership of the chois. quickly, this religion consumed them. it became the lamp unto their feet, the reason for all their successes. their devotion did not go unnoticed. the chois grew to trust them deeply, and they rose the church ranks with their fervent worship. 

by the time yoon was born, his father had fallen just slightly out of favour with pastor choi. there had been disputes over tithing and its use to fund a senatorial campaign. his mother, ever the strategist, had witnessed this and worried about their place in the church. there soon would be a change in leadership, following the birth of a boy: the chosen one. with yoon’s birth, she got exactly what she wanted— to cement their status as close confidants, seated at the right hand of god. father was far more conservative. he’d grown up the same way he had raised his boys: fostering misogyny disguised as chauvinism, instilling a sincere belief that men are superior to women in every aspect except childbirth. this came hand-in-hand with a deep-rooted faith in traditional displays of masculinity, and a general disgust for anything that challenged this. yoon— as his mother would have it— was one of these challenges. 

‘it would be fine if yoon had been born the youngest daughter and not son’, was his father’s common refrain. but mother could care less about her husband’s whining when she knew it’d do their family good. yoon knew she found great delight when the plot proved useful and father could no longer find excuses not to let her go ahead with her plans. even so, he raised yoon the only way he knew how, and twice as sternly as he did with yoon’s older brothers. he was relentless with his teaching and expected nothing short of perfection. everything his mother wanted him to do, his father made sure he did without room for improvement. there were still things he did not agree with, like yoon’s pursuit of music and literature, which he found principally effeminate, but there was only so much you could discriminate against while promising your son to another boy. 

this, he made up for by inculcating a quiet cruelty in yoon. a gentle sort of viciousness that would linger beneath your skin, only to strike when you least expect it. there was to be no remorse, not a moment’s hesitation, no mercy. he was to act in the faith that god was his shepherd, and that everything he did, he did for god and his holy vessels. when he was younger, yoon had taken these lessons as his father’s way of showing love. less foolish now, he’s painfully aware that it was and is to satiate the fragile male ego his father had been fostering since birth. 

at times like this, everything father’s taught him seems to click into place. where his father had instilled the art of weaponising fear, he’d learnt relentlessness to go alongside it. with threats, came careful strategising; entrapment. yoon never quite liked the violence that came with his father’s methods, so he carved out his a path of his own, entrusted the dirty work to those whom he could buy. he found that the best way to get someone to do exactly what you want is not through the threat of physical violence— there are only so many teeth you can pull before words get garbled, and severing fingers is messy and leaves with it a permanence that draws too much attention. no, the best way to play puppeteer is to figure out what exactly makes them tick, the things and people they love, their motivations, their secrets. and then, to take it all away. to threaten to unmask them, make them lose everything at once. what matters more than money is the greed to keep their carefully maintained reputations. father would despise this roundabout way of doing things, the lack of an overt show of aggression. ‘you’re too soft, yoon’, he’d say, shaking his head with the disdain that usually fills him at the sight of his son. too soft, too unassertive, too lacking of a man from the kang household. if only you knew, father. what i have on you.

the man before him is the same. yoon had seen him in church, and now over the surveillance footage that plays on the tv in front of them, where he puts those same grotesque lips that spoke words of wisdom to the congregation to a boy who must barely be his son’s age. yoon half-sits on the edge of the table, cross-legged, leaning back on one palm as he fiddles with the remote to rewind the video and play it over and over again. he pauses at the most pertinent portions, tilting his head in a way that screams nonchalance. genuinely, he wonders if this is what prosecutor park fears the most. it seems to be. the same smug, self-assured smile that once screamed power has been reduced to a blubbering mess; spittle gathering on park’s mouth and chin as he begs for forgiveness, swearing on his family, on god. like most, he’d started off thinking he held all the cards, that yoon was akin to the rest of the wives in the church. this was shortly after yoon was announced to be the leader’s partner-to-be, and many had taken to treating him like they did the women amongst the parishioners (in short: poorly, with contempt). they’d been sorely mistaken. his mother had raised a faithful servant, but his father had sharpened his teeth. 

it never fails to amuse him, how they never see this coming. 

yoon steps off the table where he’s perched with practiced grace, watching as park tries again to lunge at him. the guards hold him back by the arms, keep him in place where he’s seated. he doesn’t know why they try, but he supposes he should be applauding this man’s apparent fearlessness. by now, yoon’s done this dozens of times. except, there’s something personal about this— perhaps in the way yoon had felt his gaze on him all throughout service and the special sunday prayers, even as he espoused a poignant narrative against those who shared his attraction. yoon meets eyes with the guards, who get the message almost immediately, making things more painful now that park’s shown he’s fickle and considering alternatives. 

“i suggest you cooperate, mr. park. things will go far more smoothly if you do.” 

yoon steps around the table that separates them, tapping lightly at the arm of one of the guards, who steps aside with his head bowed. up-close, park looks even more pitiful. father must be around his age too, miserable and clinging to some false sense of self that’s only been sustained because of the church. yoon frowns— his first real show of emotion— nose wrinkled at the metallic smell of blood. they’ve roughed him up a little too much for his liking, but he’d been more resistant than they usually are, likely in some weird show of “masculinity”. 

“here’s what i’m going to do…” yoon says after the prosecutor general’s hiccuping cries finally fade into quieter sobs. the despair has set in. yoon fast forwards to his favourite part of the video, where park’s face is most visible, and lets the image of his sin illuminate the room. “you know as well as i do that my family has a lot of influence over the media-sphere. all it takes is one little click for all this to be uploaded..” he shrugs then, shoulders lifted in a show of insouciance. “imagine how devastated your wives would be. and your poor son.. i don’t think he’d appreciate that kink of yours. your career? who knows what will be left of it once this makes its rounds.” 

yoon takes his time to spell this all out, taking a sick satisfaction in watching the man’s expression turn from complacency to utter hopelessness. in his mind’s eye, he might be doing this for god, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t self-serving in more ways than others. he’d crush them all if he could, cut them off at the knees and watch them plead for mercy as penance for all that they’ve put him through. this part of him is what his father would delight in, and he knows better than that, even if it’s sometimes hard to quash. still, he is his father’s son, so yoon leans down to whisper in the man’s ear, his hand smoothed over his shoulder, without even an inch of fear of recourse. “i’ll make sure prison’s nice and comfortable for you, prosecutor park. so don’t you worry.”

#sp #/ this is a side of yoon that i haven't explored toooo much of just yet #/ was fun to write though + gives more insight into just how morally grey he is #/ also his daddy issues... now that i've written about his mommy issues #/ think of this as existing somewhere between yoon starting work at element and rekindling his relationship with soobin (the first time lol)

[riverofrainbows]

Thoughts on religion.

Just because you've been raised in a religion doesn't mean it's real. Most of the core principles of modern Christianity, the ones that brought the most harm to people, have been additional stuff added in later centuries by some guys. There are conflicting information in the bible because it was essentially a big discussion club with people putting out what they thought was right about it, because you couldn't do much else in the iron age i suppose. Revelation is an apocalyptic rpf fix it fic about emperor Nero. Christianity, from the beginning, was an apocalyptic cult. Paul was entirely celibate because he thought Jesus was coming back any day so what's the point in procreation, except that then he didn't come back. A lot of things how Jesus fulfills prophecies from the old testament was because Matthew (who wasn't actually Matthew but they assigned him several hundred years later) put them in to make it sound cooler and more connected to the old testament. Several of those were misunderstandings of his about the meaning of the stuff he quotes which is where we get the Virgin Mary (she wasn't virgin in the prophecy). God being omnipotent and omnipresent and almighty is an invention of those later christians in the middle ages, he wasn't in the old testament. He also wasn't the only real god in the old testament, they thought the other gods were real too just that theirs was better. Hell wasn't mentioned even fucking once in the bible. Slavery is fine with the old testament, but it says fuck all about homosexuality (and so does Jesus) because they basically had ancient roman homosexuality going on. All the stuff that gives so many people the religious trauma is made up later additions that Jesus never once even implied. Jesus just wanted you to be kind and help the needy. God being omnipotent, omniscient, almighty, reading your every thought and throwing you in hell for it is not in the text. The trinity is made up in a council a few hundred years after Jesus. Jesus doesn't blame women for "men's uncontrollable sexuality" so modesty lest the priests get urges is bullshit. Jesus doesn't value virginity over a person's inherent value. He is friends with prostitutes. The way the garden of eden story about hereditary sin and god's all-knowingness create an absolutely fucked up horrible god is baseless because god in the garden of eden isn't all-knowing. God punishing people for executing their free will when he created them with free will knowing what they would do with it is baseless because he isn't omniscient. He just gave people free will, went "well shit" and then intervened to enforce his rules. And he doesn't intervene anymore because he isn't omnipotent because he never was. Also it's ancient texts where people needed an explanation for stuff like natural phenomena. This doesn't mean religion is stupid (and i really respect modern judaism) but that most of Christianity has fuck all to do with the bible and with Jesus especially. It's made up and reinterpretated in later times in ways they thought best that turned into this thing that tells you it's righteous to tell gay and trans people that they're abdominations and will go to hell but Jesus loves you. How their love is contingent on stuff made up in the middle ages but they cite the bible to take away human rights. How throwing out their own child is love because you save them from sin so Jesus may love them but Jesus already loves them because he loves every single person including the sinners, and the only sins he cares about are being cruel and kicking the needy to the curb so who is the sinner in this. The pope declares he is Jesus representation on earth but he says "love the sinner hate the sin" and trans people are an abdomination. Evangelicals say that helping someone is doing a sin because satan is nice and deceives people but satan isn't even in the bible and they are a death cult built on revelation. But the end will never come because revelation is not about us it's a contemporary piece of literature about the roman empire.

#own post #religous trauma #christianity

[rcsegilded]

SEND   ♫  FOR A MUSE/DYNAMIC PLAYLIST (accepting) | @dracharenae​​

for rhaenys

♫ I Can See You by Taylor Swift: Innocent interactions fuel less-than-innocent daydreaming.

“And we keep everything professional but something's changed. It's something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it's better if we move fast and keep quiet.”

♫ Adore You by Harry Styles: An offer of desire and adoration—if that's what they both want.

“You don't have to say you love me. You don't have to say nothing. You don't have to say you're mine.”

♫ False God by Taylor Swift: A series of trysts doomed to end. But perhaps they're the exception.

“We might just get away with it. Religion's in your lips. Even if it's a false god, we'd still worship.”

♫ Liar by Paramore: Those three words, finally spoken. How foolish it was to ever deny them.

“Love is not an easy thing to admit but I'm not ashamed of it.” /  “Oh, my love, I lied to you but I never needed to. I lied to you but you always knew the truth.”

♫ ivy by Taylor Swift: Those precious secluded days, when love built walls to keep out the world.

“I'd live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time.” / “So tell me to run or dare to sit and watch what we'll become. And drink my husband's wine.”

♫ Unknown/Nth by Hozier: The inevitable hurt that can be seen on the horizon. It will leave fingers bleeding and hearts terribly alone. But they close their eyes and trudge ahead.

“If there were scarlet flags, they washed out in the mind of me where a blinding light shone on you every night.”

♫ august by Taylor Swift: Holding on to the sunny carefree moments, even as they slip through fingers like fine sand. 

 “And I can see us twisted in bedsheets. August slipped away into a moment in time 'cause you were never mine.” / “Wanting was enough. For me, it was enough.”

♫ Daylight by David Kushner: Love in and of itself isn't wrong. But the lies it necessitates may not be forgiven.

“This lust is a burden that we both share. Two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer. Souls tied, intertwined by guilt.”

♫ illicit affairs by Taylor Swift: After the discovery. Isolation and hurt paint the memories red with bitter anger.

“And that's the thing about illicit affairs and clandestine meetings and stolen stares. They show their truth one single time but they lie and they lie and they lie a million little times.”

♫ I'd Have to Think About It by Leith Ross: Moving on in some ways, while hearts remain connected in others. And the knowledge that it could all come undone again so easily.

“You never love the same amount.” / “And honest, I can tell you now: I'll love you more than my future spouse.” / “And if you come to me when I've promised to commit, if you told me that you loved me and asked me for a kiss...well, I'd at least have to think about it.”

♫ Francesca by Hozier: Wounds have healed and love can be defined in many different ways. But even after everything, they would change nothing of the past.

“If I could hold you for a minute, darling, I'd go through it again.”

#[ did i just post the whole playlist #in its entirety? maybe #but i couldn't choose just a few #and i am now realizing just how much ts is on my character playlists ] #dracharenae #. : : DYN. RHAENYS & MARGAERY

[rakumel]

Today’s court decision and the others before it...well, I just had to vent my spleen. That’s pretty much all this is. There might be some cohesive arguments in there somewhere but...no, I’m pretty much just pissed.

Under the cut, of course.

The gay couple should have chosen another web designer, and the web designer should get into another fucking line of business that doesn't have to do with weddings, because you KNOW in this day and age there's a good chance you'll be approached by a gay couple.

....is what I would have said, at first. And it'll probably be what I say to my mostly conservative family and community, if pressed. I generally don't talk politics or religion with them, for the same reason we don't debate with howler monkeys.

But it's more than that. By escalating this all the way to the Supreme Court, this isn't just a simple matter of the first amendment rights of an artist or business owner. It doesn't even stop at someone having personal religious beliefs that they want to force on everyone else, which already goes too far.

No, this is a conservative court sending a message, on top of all the other messages they've sent over the past month. It says, basically, this is what we believe, and we're in charge, so fuck you. It is damn clear to anyone with half a brain that this is what the conservatives in power are doing. Why else would Justice Beerbro be shoehorned in, despite basically throwing a tantrum at his hearing? Not to mention Justice OfTrump being snuck in under the radar - was her hearing even televised??

But I'm getting off the point, which is: You can debate what this decision means and discuss the ramifications all you want. You can dress it up and photograph it from a flattering angle: oh no, it's not about religion, it's about free speech! It's not about hate, it's first amendment rights! But make no mistake: at its core, this decision is about naked hate for people that fall outside Christian acceptable behavior. Who don't conform to their definitions of socially acceptable people.

How do I know this? Because I grew up with them. Not the justices specifically, but I spent a significant portion of my teenage years in a Southern Baptist church. In other words, the staunchest of the staunch. The most rigidly religious, at least in theory. I'd go there every Sunday and listen to sermons in which "other" people were, at best, tut-tutted and frowned upon; at worst, they were responsible for Everything Wrong in This Country, and if we only had God in America again (whatever that means! because apparently having it on our money and in our public schools and a church on every fucking street corner isn’t enough!), then everything would be fine and dandy, except for the millions of people hurt by all of that, I guess. They latched onto those Bible verses that compared religious concepts with pieces of armor, because they loved nothing more than the idea of going into battle against an enemy, in which they were Clearly Right and the other was Clearly Wrong, except actual humans and the actual world are not that simply defined and never have been.

These people are desperate and borderline delusional. They believe that they are the victims of an evil world run by Satan, rather than a pluralistic society with multi-faceted people. They hate the concept and even the word compromise, despite that being the very thing this country and the Constitution were founded on (and we all know how they like to run their mouths about What the Founding Fathers Would Have Done). They think that the only way for them to exist in the world as it is, is to marginalize everyone else who makes them uncomfortable. Homeless people? Immigrants with nowhere to go? Don't care, just get them out of our sight, and don't spend any of our tax dollars on them either. Transgender people? Same-sex couples? Ew, extra gross, y'all shouldn't even exist.

By the way, no one has ever explained, to my satisfaction, why being gay is such a bad thing that the Christian God hates it. It's unnatural? So are cars, cooking food, and that Labradoodle you love so much, Karen. Try again. It's bad because God says so? You're not fucking listening, Chad. WHY. Why is it so bad? Point to the passage where God explains himself, not just the ones that say "It's bad." (And honey, we could have an entire other discussion about translations and cultural differences, but that's for another time.)  

Because ultimately, this isn't about what God thinks. This is about what YOU think, Christian conservative. YOU, personally, think gay people are icky, so you're perfectly fine with anything or anyone that rules against them. God's just a handy construct to point to. Hey, God said they're bad, and I'm with him, so...sorry, hands tied. I have no choice but to be an asshole to you, either overtly or in a snide bless-your-heart kind of way, because Compromise is Bad, Co-existence is impossible, and besides, God said so.

Again, remember, they think they're in a battle, and rulings like this are a Victory in God's Name, A Triumph Over Evil. Not an insult and a pushback to literally millions of people, who over the years have had to fight bitterly for the same rights they got by default. Conservatives are trying, desperately, to drag the entire nation back to some mythological golden era, probably based on the 1950's, where genders and roles were clearly defined and almost never questioned, people who fell outside those norms just existed on the margins of society (if not flat-out beaten up for sport), and racial and ethnic minorities only held nice safe non-threatening jobs, like athletes or musicians, and not say, CEOs or congressmen. You know, anyone with influence or power to change laws or anything.

Rulings like this piss me off, because even if I personally am not targeted, I am not fucking going gentle into that so-called great America again. I do not want to live in a country where my worth is determined only by how well I can service a dude. I don't want to live in a country where millions of people who are otherwise law-abiding, contributing, upstanding members of society get smacked down every day by being told that this one, relatively inconsequential thing you are, invalidates everything else about you. It doesn't matter how good or smart or skilled you are otherwise, if you're this thing you can’t control, we hate you. I don't want to live in a country where someone feels the need to rub their religion in people's faces by offering a service where they know god damn well they might encounter a definition of marriage that doesn't fit their own.

Seriously. If you sincerely believe that marriage should only be between a man and a woman, then get a job that doesn't have anything to do with weddings. If you, personally, do not want to marry someone of the same gender, THEN DON'T. Literally no one is forcing you to. You, however, by escalating this shit all the way to the highest court in the land, ARE forcing other people to believe as you do. And that is exactly what you want. Don't fucking pretend it's about rights or free speech or anything else. You're not fucking fooling anyone.

#rakus screaming blog

[badclown]

@crimeloyalty moved from here.

❛ my mom was catholic. ❜ you know how in movies they always say that you're supposed to try to remind the person trying to kill you that you're human? i think i'm trying to do that with myself. i hold a piece of my hair up in front of my face, looking at the harsh line between my natural blonde and the red dye i took to my ends last night. like i'm in eighth grade and those fucking koolaid dip dye videos are trending again and i just want to be one of the cool kids. see? there it is again. all these bits and pieces from harleen's life. i'm trying not to lose myself. i don't know why. ❛ but i never really . . . bought any of that. christmas is fine. the rest ⸺ ❜

it's not like i'm much closer to my father's religion, either. the idea of any kind of god has never made sense to me. god wouldn't leave a seven year old sitting in a hospital hallway while her mother died. god wouldn't leave that same seven year old with an alcoholic piece of shit for a father. none of this, of course, is the point that mr. j's trying to make. i know that. she knows that, too. i wrinkle my nose in apology, then crawl into her lap. that . . . is also a famous harley distraction, and she knows that, too. i barely stop myself from pulling the daddy card.

and then i end up playing the other daddy card. the nick quinzel card. except it's not really a card when it's the truth, right?

❛ the last time i let myself think about revenge, i killed my dad. so. i don't really let myself do that anymore. ❜

"Obviously, yer too smart fer any of that shit. What do ya call it? When they train you from birth to think a certain way? Classical CONDITIONING." She combs red lacquered nails through Harley's hair and it runs thick between her pale fingers until she hits that red at the very ends. Of course she knows all about conditioning, about Ivan Pavlov and poor baby Albert, but Harley's still the psychiatrist here, and it's always better to make her feel like one of the smartest people in the room. So she shrugs and turns away casually as though this were just some one off conversation and they're sharing just to share something.

"Gumdrop, that's RIDICULOUS." She's busying herself with something else while she talks so that her commentary will seem less confrontational. "You know just as well as I do what people are LIKE. If ya give 'em an inch, they'll take a MILE, an' then they'll piss in yer SHOES. If ya don't SHOW people that they CAN'T fuck with you, then they're GONNA fuck with you. I think ya call that SETTING BOUNDARIES, right?? All ya did with yer dad was enforce a BOUNDARY. And honestly, I'm so PROUD of you fer standin' up fer yerself like that. An' ya know what else?"

She puts down what she's doing and turns her full attention to Harley. That's what the other woman wants, what she thrives on, and so it can only be accompanied by the most salient of points. Harley will hang on her every word, but Joker wants her to associate the thing she wants most (her undivided attention) with the behaviors Joker wants her to continue exhibiting. How's that for classical conditioning? "Yer never sexier than when yer covered in some fuckface's blood, an' I really MEAN that."

#crimeloyalty

[idv-hc-center]

Andrew smut hcs,,, please

fuck yeah it's Andrew smut time

Finally, I can share so many of my thoughts like andrew has so much smut potential

also i rly wrote almost 1k words of smut headcanons uhhh

warnings: nsfw, mention of breeding kink, mention of praise kink, multiple references to religion, hinted discrimination it's only in one sentence tho and its only hinted

I have a lot to say

Before meeting you, he had like no experience in this type of stuff

To be honest, he knows little to nothing about it, mostly because of his upbringing

No one really told him much about sex, except that it's a horrible sin and it's only here for "reproduction" purposes

(but he was also made to believe no one would want to "reproduce" with him, so in his case, it's just a sin, and he could forget about forgiveness from God)

He is convinced those thoughts and urges are sinful, and they only prove how much of a freak he is

but oh boy, you make him horny as fuck

Years of being pent up caused him to get aroused by literally anything you do

You could be just hugging when he suddenly gets hard because he got to touch more of your skin than usual

and he feels so ashamed, as he tries to hide his erection

Thankfully his clothes easily can cover this accident

But Andrew is horrible at acting, and you always notice his nervousness

And it's pretty easy to assume why he acted like that, feeling something hard pressed against your back

At the begging of your relationship, he never talked about sex, so you just assumed he wasn't interested in this type of stuff, and you were okay with that

However, after some time, you found out the real reason he never talked about it

He was just too ashamed to ask you for anything, and well, you took advantage of that

You loved the sight of him drowning in embarrassment as he tried to hide his "excitement"

Although you liked to torment him, it was kind of sad to see him being so uneducated

You had to have this big conversation about how it was okay for him to feel this type of way and how he shouldn't think of himself as some sort of a freak

This made him feel at ease. He was so scared you would call him disgusting when he admitted that you aroused him, but he was pleasantly surprised when you said it was fine with you

The first time you had sex, you had to do most of the work, basically riding him as Andrew almost passed out from the pleasure

Even though you had to do ninety percent of the work, you were satisfied with the whole thing, as Andrew turned out to be really decent in size

Not only in length but also in girth

To be honest, you never expected this from him as you gawked at his size

"Andrew...I don't think it will fit..."

"Huh?"

Andrew just sat there embarrassed and confused

(he really didn't realize how gifted he was and how generous God had to be while creating him)

(i mean it would be a sin to waste something like that)

(have fun)

Since he doesn't have much experience, he always tries to make sure you are satisfied

If he isn't so sure, he will just perform oral on you for hours

I mean literally hours

He has some oral fixation, and he just loves to please you with his head in between your legs

He loves to hear your moans as he grips on the soft skin on your thighs

Andrew often gets lost in this activity and does it for much longer than he thought

As much as he loves the sight of you basically gaging on his length, he doesn't like to be the only person receiving pleasure, so if you want to give him head, he will only agree if he can do the same to you at the same time

Even though, now you have a pretty much normal sex life, he still gets aroused as easily, as before

And he doesn't like to take care of it alone

but unfortunately, he is still too scared to ask you for anything

so more than once a week, he ends up grinding against you trying to communicate what he wants

And it's such a pleasure to see him being desperate for you to touch him in any way

You make him use his words, but he is just whining, not being able to say anything

You always end up giving in because come on, look at him

Also, he loves cockwarming

Like it's so intimate, but it isn't that sinful

He likes to sit with you with his length inside you after a long day

just enjoying this moment and your intimacy

Also *cough cough* breeding kink *cough cough*

He doesn't feel himself being worthy of breeding you, but on the other hand, he really wants to (whether you can actually be bred or not)

He loves the sight of his cum dripping down your legs

the sight of you, being tarnished by it brings him over the edge every time

Like he sees that and is immediately ready for another round

It also feeds his (pretty small) ego

And, of course, praise kink

He just needs someone to tell him he did well

and well, if you told him that he is also immediately ready for another round

He wants to please you to the best of his abilities, but he is really insecure about it since he is so inexperienced

So if you told him he actually did a good job

he would melt

please...just call him a good boy

But ignoring all the kinky stuff, he can be really vanilla too!

Whispering how much he loves you and leaving kisses around your body

Nothing too crazy, just two of you enjoying this intimate moment

and just showing how much you love each other

#identity v #idv #identity v x you #identity v imagines #identity v headcanons #identity v x reader #idv x reader #idv headcanons #andrew x reader #andrew idv #andrew kreiss x reader #andrew kreiss #gravekeeper idv #grave keeper identity v

[dreamkidddream]

Corruption || Demon!Chuuya

Yooo my tl was in PURE DISARRAY when Chuuya wasn’t in the new chapter (don’t worry I was too) 🥲 it was like that scene in Spongebob where he forget his name and his mind is just on fire and pure chaos everywhere 😭 here’s hoping he’ll come back soon. Reader is gender neutral!

Update: SEASON 4 JUST GOT CONFIRMED THIS IS NOT A DRILL SEASON 4 IS CONFIRMED‼️ WE FINALLY GET TO SEE CHUUYA AHHHHHHHH

CW: language, minor talks of religion, spicy/suggestive themes but no NSFW (and it got fluffy at the end ☺️)

Dream’s Spooktober 2021

It was a lot of expectations and standards that you were held to being the pastors’ only child. It was all eyes on you whenever you were out, and it was so stressful to have everyone be so critical of your every move in the public eye. It was even worse now that you’re older. No chance of screwing up, you were always meant to be the “perfect” angel, no exceptions.

But Chuuya didn’t care, and overtime he made you not care too.

“Chuuya, I think we should stop- ah!”

“Sounds to me like you don’t want to.” He grinned against your lips, pulling you closer to him. You would die of embarrassment if anyone were to see the position he had you in: pinned against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist. But Gods above forgive you because you didn’t want him to stop-

“Chu, seriously”, you panted. “I think that they’re calling for me-“

“Who cares?” He continued to press kiss after kiss onto your neck, biting the one spot that made it hard to hold your moans in. “Who knew the church kid could be so dirty. Don’t be shy- let them hear you. Forget about those assholes. Besides, you called out for me.They can wait till we’re done. And I’m not done with you yet-“

Until someone was knocking on your door, and you tensed up while Chuuya started to growl. “Sweetheart? Are you alright in there?”

You slapped a hand over his mouth, “Oh, um, yes Father, I’m fine! I’m just…hungry. Haven’t had time to eat yet.”

“Then you should come down and eat before we leave. You know that service starts soon and we can’t be late!”

“Yes I know.” You rolled your eyes and sent him an apologetic look, unwrapping your legs from around him. “I’ll be down in a few.”

“Good. We arrive on time and as a family. Together. Do not keep us waiting like last time (Y/N). No excuses.”

You waited until you heard the sound of his steps gone completely before you removed your hand. “Let me guess: you have to go.” His eyebrow was already twitching in annoyance. “Of course, you have to go, of course. Why is it always that same bastard-“

“Chuuya please! Your voice. They might hear you!” He kept pacing around your room, which was getting hotter and hotter by the second, which you took as your sign to try and defuse the situation. “I promise to make it up to you later, okay?”

“It always has to be later because of them. They don’t even treat you like you’re their kid (Y/N)! They treat you like you’re their damn puppet and that you’re just fine with them pulling at your strings like you’re nothing!”

“Chuuya-“

“If they keep testing you, I’ll strike fear in them that the old man upstairs couldn’t even imagine doing-“

“Chuuya.” You finally grabbed at his hands, feeling the smooth velvet of his gloves in between your fingers. The blue in his eyes always seemed to glowed so fiercely when he was passionate about something, and you found them so entrancing. “I know, trust me. I don’t like it either, but I also need you to calm down. Your glamour is starting to wear off.”

But also with his eyes being so captivating, so is his other features. Features that you can’t risked to be seen by others, especially your father. It was already bad enough that you snuck a man into your room; you couldn’t imagine the reaction if they found out he was a demon.

But even with curled horns and sharp tipped wings, he was still so beautiful. Far more beautiful than any angel that was shown in your fathers’ sermon. And he was still your gentle lover.

You pecked his lips once, twice, however many times until his lips were chasing after yours. He just wants to hold you in his arms a little longer, but he can’t even do that.

“All you have to do is say the word. I’ll take you far away from this place to where no one can find us.” He held up your hands that were still wrapped around yours and left a lasting kiss on each one. “I mean it (Y/N). Are you really happy being up here? With them?”

“I’m happy when I get to see you.”

“Hey quit it, don’t avoid the question!” He scowled, but the blush on his face was more than noticeable. You were just telling the truth like you were raised to do. “Why not let me take you away already? I can promise a better life than this, you know that.”

“I’ll take you on your offer someday.”

“How long until then?”

“I guess whenever I’m ready. Are you willing to wait for me?”

Your words caused a chord to be struck in Chuuya. Out of all the mortals he’s come by in his years, you were the most interesting to him, the one that drew his attention the most. He should have just swallowed your soul and go about his business, he knew that, but you started off as free entertainment to him, and became something more overtime.

He thought that corrupting you would be easy. A fun and pleasurable experience that he finds himself reveling in every time he comes to the human realm.

But it seems like you’re the one corrupting him.

Chuuya realized this when he kept coming here more and more just to see you, and soon forgot about his plan to drag you to Hell himself after he fully tainted you. He usually doesn’t like to be up here, but he could only be away from you for so long before he started to feel agitated by everything more than usual. And if he had to guess (which he didn’t), you felt the same way too since you’ve been calling out to him more and more recently.

Out of all the mortals he’s come by in his years, you were the most interesting to Chuuya, the one that drew his attention the most. Innocent and pure enough to tempt the demon but loving enough to where he’s selfish of you.

Someone of his status being in a relationship with a human; it made him laugh whenever he thought about it. With the pastors’ child nonetheless! All the centuries that he’s been alive, he only used humans for carnal pleasures from time to time. Falling in love with one wasn’t something he ever expected and if you were to tell him, he probably would have threatened to beat you with your own limbs.

But he doesn’t regret it all.

He would never tell anyone (ESPECIALLY you), but you have him whipped. He would go to Hell and back for you, literally; he’s already doing it now, and he’s not planning on stopping his visits anytime soon. He’ll take you away from this place once you’re ready, and he’ll show you all the treasures you deserve and more.

“Always.”

#bsd chuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs reader insert #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungou stray dogs x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #dream’s spooktober 2021 🎃