#Reeducated!Sin

[everydayyoulovemeless]

New Vegas companions (+ulysses)with a teen Courier? Like how they treat the teen and such

FNV Companions (+Ulysses) With A Teen!Courier

➼ Word Count » 1.3k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic

Boone's not entirely keen on the idea of traveling with someone so young. He feels that you shouldn't be out here at all and would tell you to go home. Of course, you don't remember your home, and once you tell him as much he feels obligated to (reluctantly) take you in. For a while, it'll be you, him, and Manny hanging around in Novac, with the two of them taking turns teaching you how to snipe effectively. After a few weeks, you need to continue your path to find Benny, and Boone agrees to go with you, if nothing else, then to protect you from the horrors of the outside world. He's still set on the idea that you're way too young to be out doing things like this, but if it's something you have to do then he'd rather it be him that goes along with you than anyone who might be a bad influence on you, especially considering you've lost all you're memories. He's a reluctant father figure, who'll stop at nothing to ensure you don't fall into the hands of the Legion, or worse, die.

Arcade isn't sure why anyone who forgot how to gamble would want to travel all the way out to Vegas, let alone Freeside. You didn't even have enough money to bypass the guards to get into the Strip when you entered the Old Mormon Fort for the first time, so whatever plan you had before traveling here is lost on him. He only begins talking to you out of pity and confusion, wanting to learn more about your motivations for making such a long hike for a payout that would surely never come. His pity for you only grows, and he'll quickly agree to come along with you wherever you plan on going next. You don't seem to remember anything at all so he'll do his best to reeducate you on the basics. Medicine, survival, reading, he'll cover them all in due time. He truly does feel guilty that you, some kid from who knows where, got caught up in such a large mess of things, and hopes that by staying with you he can make up for the acts this world has committed against you. He sees a bit of himself in you: a lost kid with no more home or family to turn to, no one to confide in, and he hopes to one day take on that familial role for you.

Raul can't help but feel a little bit embarrassed that he had to be saved by a kid with brain damage, but either way, he's happy to be able to leave Black Mountain. He'll follow you out of a mixture of gratitude and curiosity as you remind him a lot of himself back when he still lived in Mexico City. That being said, he is just the tiniest bit overprotective over you. He'd hate it if you ended up with the same fate as his family and would stop at nothing to ensure he never has to go through something like that again. The longer you travel together, the more he feels like he's found a younger sibling to watch over again. He'll tease you and generally be his sarcastic self, but he's definitely a lot softer on you than he would if you'd been an adult. He almost feels as if it's his responsibility to help raise you and keep you alive and healthy, and that's exactly what he ends up doing.

Lily would consider it to be a downright sin for her to just let you wander around on your own! So, whether you agree to it or not, she'll become your full-time grandma throughout the rest of your travels. She's just as doting to you as she would be to any of her other grandchildren and always makes a point to check in on your health and overall well-being. Grandma couldn't have her little pumpkin sad or starving now, could she? That being said, she does her best to fit in the occasional home cooking she's so famous for back in Jacobstown. Not much really changes with Lily. She's still the sweet, old grandma who adopts you regardless of everything, the only real difference being that she's more stubborn with coming along with you. Kids shouldn't be out and about without any chaperon, after all!

Cass doesn't really have much of an opinion on it. You're a kid, so what? Everyone around you was a kid at some point. She does, however, have a small soft spot for teens who aren't afraid of what the waste has to offer, and you've had to make it all the way out to the Mojave Outpost from somewhere, haven't you? She'll pat the barstool beside her, gesturing for you to come and sit down before (secretly) sliding you a glass of whiskey that the two of you share. She wants you to start from the beginning: what are you doing here? And where are your parents? She grows to respect you quite quickly and finds herself feeling some kind of connection with you. Maybe it's because you're a lot rowdier than most others your age, maybe it's 'cause of how unbothered you appear, or maybe it's the determined way you carry yourself? Either way, she's taking her place beside you to get revenge on whoever was fucked up enough to try and kill a kid.

Veronica gets a bit excited when she sees a teen approaching her at the 188 Trading Post. She thinks you're the cutest thing and would love to come along! She's constantly thinking up outfits she thinks you'd look great in, just little accessories here and there to really spice up the 'vengeful vibe' you seem to be going for. She's like the sister you never had, or at least never remembered having, and she takes that role very seriously. You need dating advice? She's your girl to go to. Want to be a better fighter? Allow her, you're amazing new best friend, to offer you some pointers. You want a group to back you up? She'll bother the Brotherhood for as long as she needs before you're accepted into their bunker. Honestly, she couldn't have asked for a better person to come along and break her out of her boredom. The two of you will cause problems like no other, but that only means you both know how to have fun and make the most of your situations.

Ulysses holds a lot less resentment toward you as he believes you're naivety was abused by the NCR. That being said, when you come wandering into the Divide, he definitely puts it in your head that the NCR isn't any good and that you're a victim to this world as much as he, and the rest of the Divide, were. He'll try to brainwash you into viewing the world the same way he does: a cold and heartless mess. He takes you under his wing in a sense, raising you to be a strong and determined warrior against both the NCR and the Legion. He's invested so much energy and thought into you that he feels it'd almost be a waste if he doesn't. If you decide you're not going to follow his path and carve your own, he wouldn't have any qualms about fighting you the same way he would had you been an adult, he'd just feel it'd be a misuse in potential. He'd be a mentor figure to you, a dangerous and smart one, but a teacher nonetheless. There's no room for compromise, and he'll turn you both into a two-man army to ruin the two flags that run rampant throughout the Mojave.

[nonokoko-draws]

What if we had a third player option and it's a sad goat

Info about the rebeco:

🐐 Based on a goat species called chamois or Alpine chamois (rebeco is its spanish name translation, I call them like that because it's cuter imo). Chamois goats are native of the Pyrenees, the mountains of south and central Europe, Turkey and the Caucasus; though they can also be found in other places like or New Zealand. I was gonna give him a chamois sound but the chamois baal sounds like shitting and farting 💀 Despite being a goat too rebeco and the goat are NOT blood related.

🐐 The "story mode" way to play it in single mode would be by building the leader tent and sleeping there three consecutive days. By the third night the lamb will appear in a place similar to the one you end up after dying to get the goat. Then you pray to the statue and when you go to the temple it should be unlocked Rebeco's fleece. Probably costs 1-3 holy talismans (I know I put 5 ??? but to have one whole holy talisman is already difficult imagine 5)

🐐 Usually rests during the day. If it was playable he'd have a bonus in crusades if you do them at night or something. I'll probably give them a shield too who knows. Their bell is made of bronze, just like the lamb's is gold and the goat silver

🐐 While the lamb looks happy and friendly and the goat is more aggressive and competitive this fella is more pacific, usually worried and melancholic. Ever since they were captured and saw his whole kind sacrificed to the Old faith they are kinda depressed

🐐 Forced to become a cult leader, they and his followers call it "Church" instead. Likes poets and avoids sacrificing his believers, even if they're rebels (reeducate > kill). Their congregation have the Belief in Afterlife, Grass Eater, Belief in Absolution and Respect Your Elders traits; in contrast with the goat because I hc his followers have Cannibal, Belief in sacrifice, Belief in Original Sin and Good Die Young.

[peterrsthomas]

The Handmaid’s Tale in the Age of Trump’s Republic

Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale is a dystopian novel set in a near-future patriarchal world, following Offred, the titular handmaid (i.e., a woman whose role in society is solely to get pregnant). The Republic of Gilead in which Offred lives is rigid and highly religious, oppressive and authoritarian. Women go through a process of reeducation in training for their new roles, and memories of the time before the revolution that brought the Republic about are hazy. The novel was arresting enough when it was published in 1985, but it has taken on a new salience with the resurgence of the fanatical evangelical Right in America—the faction most devoted to the ironically areligious and immoral Trump.

A key theme of the book is the use of religion as a vessel for power. The Republic of Gilead isn’t based on any meaningful interpretation of religious scripture; rather, religion is a tool for exercising control. Similarly, with Trump’s evangelical base, it does not matter that Trump is a liar and an adulterer—and embodiment of many other sins besides. They see him as a hammer, a tool with which to exercise their will over the population. For as long as he serves their interests (see: social conservatism, anti-abortion, anti-LGBTQ+ rights, and more), they will follow him, regardless of his character. Leaders of evangelical groups will willingly overlook these flaws and contradictions if it means greater power for themselves and their ideologies.

The book highlights the dangers of the intersection of religion and politics, in particular where the former coopts the latter. When the separation of church and state is eroded, this is devastating for women, religious, sexual, and ethnic minorities, and anyone who doesn’t fit neatly with the ‘in-group’ (in this case, White, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant). Civil liberties are eroded—in the book, people are murdered and pinned against a wall in medieval fashion for all to see.

Most striking is the wrestle for control over women’s bodies. In The Handmaid's Tale this takes the form of reproductive rights. Certain women are given the right to have children, though they will not become the children’s mothers—that role goes to someone else—at the expense of all other rights to self-determination. The scary thing is that this is not so far-fetched; today, religious conservatives are eroding hard-won rights, in particular reproductive rights and access to reproductive medical facilities, abortion rights, and adoption rights for LGBTQ+ couples.

Frighteningly, the novel is resonant not just in America, where it is set, but elsewhere in the world. Germany, France, Sweden and elsewhere are seeing an insurgent Right; the incumbent party in the UK is being split between its centre-right and more fanatical fringes. In other countries, such as India, the dominant party is explicitly religious and is shored up by its majority religion base. All this to say that democracy is fragile, and when people fall victim to economic misfortune or experience cultural shifts, the mechanisms of democracy can be weaponised by bad actors against minorities and vulnerable groups. The media can, and often does, play a part in this, too, especially when a few large corporations own multiple outlets. The organisations spread lies and misinformation, and stoke paranoia.

Like with all good dystopian novels, The Handmaid’s Tale is incredibly prescient; the prospect of such a future coming into fruition is alarmingly real. But the novel is not just a story about a horrifying future; it is a story of resistance. And the future it describes is a future we must be prepared to face head on and challenge at every opportunity.

[strawberri-yan]

Does luka have romantic feelings for the reader ? Pls tell me it is even if it was twisted love🙏😫

It’s sorta complicated to what Luka feels for the reader, not much romantic attachments but more twisted infatuation. It’s a BIG contrast to when he’s out slaughtering/torturing other vampires in the most gruesome ways for the sake of vengeance, you are the only exception (he technically does torture you via sexually) he has no intentions to kill you.

Luka views the reader as a trophy, a reminder of how he turned the once powerful vampire noble into his compliant bed warmer. he sees this as punishment fit for all the atrocities and sins you’ve commited in your life time, under the guise of "reeducation" and "teaching the vampire how to be a decent human." But as the years roll by I guess I could see Luka finds himself slowly growing softer with you, with the lines between captor and captive began to blur slightly.

He would hold you closely in bed, cradling you in his arms, allowing himself to savor the warmth and comfort of shared intimacy because I guess as his years of all out training and seeking vengeance could leave a mf touch starve. On top of that he willingly allows for you to feed off of him(and ONLY him) in contrast to the first months as his captive you would only get fed when he wanted to and only then he would toss dead rats or whatever dead rodent for you to feed off of when you were so used to the sweet taste of virgin blood.

As twisted and fucked up as it is, you are the only thing that reminds him of his beloved home, the only connection to his past he could never reclaim. After all this time, he is still the little scared boy you had found sniveling in that village.

[tamras-shieldmaiden]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Ooh, thank you for the opportunity to showcase my personal faves, nonnie!

True Mettle

It's no secret that I love Lin Beifong and Asami Sato, and since I felt the world was sadly lacking moments between these two badass ladies, I decided to make my humble contribution. My personal headcanon is that Lin crossed paths with Asami more times than even Asami is aware of, and this story explains how. Keep a handkerchief nearby if you decide to give it a chance because it gets emotional.

The Crucible

Art by @afraid-of-thunder

This story is the continuation of my Kuvira redemption story, The Path and it's my personal favorite of the trilogy. Although not as popular as the other stories, I think I like this one the most because it gets to slow down to delve into the blossoming romance between Korra and Kuvira. Meanwhile, Kuvira grapples with the weight of her transgressions in her conscience and questions whether she's deserving of love or not. What can I say, me loves a vulnerable Kuvira. 🤷‍♀️

The vow

Art by @afraid-of-thunder

It's a Kuvirasami wedding! What else do I need to add? This is pure and unadulterated, self-indulgent fluff and feels with a dash of spice (courtesy of the honeymoon) and without a doubt one of my favorite works.😁

The visit

A companion story to the Kuvira redemption arc, this one goes for those tasty hurt/comfort feels with Kuvira facing her past incarnated by a victim of her reeducation camps. A rather thorny subject that I thought it deserved exploration.

Sin

An older work from my days writing for obscure anime series, this one is for the Girls with Guns series Madlax. Fun fact: Madlax and Limelda was my initiation in writing femslash so that also makes it special. Despite the years, I think it still holds up decently and I have a soft spot for the moody and seductive vibe.

[lamaenthel]

I Love You

[read on ao3][masterlist]Febuwhump prompt: "I Love You"

It is Emperor Vader that has returned to free the slaves of Tatooine, and He has decided that they deserve not only justice, but vengeance. He strides powerfully back and forth as He speaks to the crowd in a language that the Captain doesn't have a translation module for. The entire population of Mos Espa is crammed into the Grand Arena. The slaves are the ones who fill the stands today, and they love their new Emperor.

Characters: CT-7567|Rex/Ahsoka Tano, Darth Vader Wordcount: 1931

The Captain stands in the very arena where Anakin Skywalker had won his freedom so long ago. He remembers once, when his General was feeling nostalgic—and maybe a little tipsy—he admitted that he still dreamed about returning to Tatooine to free all the slaves. He thought for sure that the Jedi would someday bring justice to his planet.

They didn't, nor did Anakin Skywalker. It is Emperor Vader that has returned to free the slaves of Tatooine, and He has decided that they deserve not only justice, but vengeance. He strides powerfully back and forth as He speaks to the crowd in a language that the Captain doesn't have a translation module for. The entire population of Mos Espa is crammed into the Grand Arena. The slaves are the ones who fill the stands today, and they love their new Emperor. They roar His name into the cold night air, stomping their feet in cadence. 

On the track is every slave owner in Mos Espa over the age of sixteen, bound and forced to kneel.

"It's the slave's tongue," Korrē whispers to the Captain. "They know He's one of them. He's telling them that they are all free. Their chips are deactivated and they have inherited the wealth of their owners. The Empire will not tolerate the barbaric practice of slavery anywhere in the galaxy." 

The Captain's eye flickers to the remnants of the 501st that make up Vader's Fist, standing shoulder-to-shoulder behind the chained masters; a wall of black plastoid three-hundred strong, ready to fire on any who loosen their bonds.  Behind them stand the children of the slave owners, graciously pardoned by the Emperor as too young to pay for their parents' sins. They will be reeducated in the Core, raised by Vader's most loyal supporters, but first they will watch their parents face His justice.

Lord Vader finishes His speech, raises His arm, and ignites His newest symbol of power; if not for the blade's flickering, void-white edge and the Imperial destroyers blocking out Tatooine's stars, the Darksaber would be invisible against the night sky. The Captain's audio momentarily shorts out from the cheers of the liberated slaves splitting the night air, loud as a thunderclap. The ground shakes under their stomping feet, a heartbeat of—Va-der! Va-der! Va-der!—displacing the sand beneath them.

The sand trawler starts up and slowly advances upon the neatly chained line of immobilized masters. "Ani!" A Toydarian at the very end of the line flaps his wings pitifully and sobs. "Ani please, I treat you and your mother good, yes? Sell her to nice husband? Ani? Ani!"

Korrē drops to one knee and kisses the Emperor's hand. "I've received word from Captain Jesse, Master. Jabba is in custody, as is his staff." She sags. "There was no sign of our quarry." 

Vader shrugs, surprisingly unbothered. "I know they're here. I can sense… him." His voice darkens, and His eyes flicker with molten gold.

"We did acquire a rancor," Korrē adds, biting her lip nervously. 

The screaming is getting louder as the trawler lurches ever closer. Vader's eyebrows arch in surprise. "A rancor? Trained, or wild?"

"Well trained." Korrē smiles, visibly relieved. "And at your service for whatever purpose you desire."

Vader pulls her to her feet and embraces her. "Very good, my apprentice." His hand trails down her rear lek, stopping to squeeze the fatty flare. 

The Captain stares straight ahead. A drunk civilian in a crowd on Coruscant once stroked Ahsoka Tano's rear lek like that. Anakin Skywalker broke his orbital socket.

Korrē shudders in His arms. "Thank you, Master." She rests her montrals against her Lord's heart, purring. The sand trawler is only meters away from the first bound, screaming man.

"I will deal with Jabba. Return to the homestead and collect Owen and Beru, then bring them to the palace. I'll give them one last chance to tell us where they went."

"And if they don't?"

Vader smiles, slow and thickly venomous. "Then we'll see how well-trained my new rancor is."

The cheering of the bloodthirsty crowd behind them muffles the crunching bone and screaming coming from the track.

"Your Highness." The Seventh Sister of Vader's Inquisitorious stands in the back-lit archway of the Lars homestead and goes down to one knee. "Beloved Abassa of Emperor Vader. I regret to inform you—"

Korrē's eyes narrow. "What did you do?" she interrupts.

The Mirialan glares at her. "I was continuing my interrogation as you instructed, your Highness, when the male—"

"I gave no such order." Korrē lifts her hand. The Seventh Sister flies up into the air, clawing at her throat. "What did you do?"

"Pl…please, Highness," she wheezes. "You told me to—"

"I told you to wait for my return!" Korrē throws her with a snarl against the stone wall of the Lars homestead. "You idiot! What have you done!"

"Mercy, Highness!" 

Korrē tilts her head and growls in a subsonic rumble that makes the Captain's stomach clench. She clenches her fist. The Seventh Sister screams as her eyes pop from her skull with twin geysers of blood and dangle pitifully by their optic nerves. Korrē drops her hand, letting the Seventh Sister collapse onto the sand. "Stun her and load her onto the skiff. I have no desire to listen to her hysterics." Korrē stomps inside after kicking the sobbing Mirialan in the stomach.

The Captain has barely secured the Inquisitor on the skiff when Korrē hops aboard, dragging the bloodied, blonde Beru hop behind her. She jerks her head at Vaughn to take off. "This can all end now," she says to Beru, her voice dripping with poison honey. "The Emperor never wanted to hurt anyone. Look." She points at the unconscious Seventh Sister. "I did that for what she did to Owen. Lord Vader will do worse. He wants his children, as is His right." 

"I don't know a damn thing about his children," Beru whispers. There are tear tracks running through the blood on her face.

Korrē's eyes tighten. She grabs the woman by the chin. "Then why did we find two cradles buried below your water tank?" she hisses. Beru closes her eyes, shuddering with a silent sob.  Korrē licks a clean stripe through the blood and tears on her cheek before letting her go. "What happens next is entirely up to you, Auntie."

The Captain glances back down at the unconscious Seventh Sister and discretely pokes her eyes back in her fractured skull before Korrē becomes too tempted.

The Emperor is reclining on Jabba's throne when they arrive, covered head-to-toe in green viscera. His Grand Inquisitor looms behind him in a darkly ironic echo of Jabba and his larval majordomo. He grins at His heir, golden eyes shining in the dark stone chamber. "Do you know what happens when lightning hits a Hutt?" His tone is light, merry; clearly the toppling of Jabba's empire has Him in a joyous mood. 

Korrē shoves Beru aside and throws herself into a contrite bow at His feet, already in tears. He leans forward, smile fading. He almost looks concerned. "What happened?"

"My Lord, the Seventh Sister defied my orders and continued interrogating Owen Lars while we were at the arena. She killed him." Korrē squeezes her teary eyes shut. "I take full responsibility for her defiance. I accept whatever punishment you believe I deserve."

The Grand Inquisitor's lip curls up, clearly enjoying Korrē's submissive display. Vader's eyes darken and flick over to the keening Seventh Sister, dragged in on her knees by Ridge. Her right eye dangles pitifully from the nerve. It won't stay, no matter how many times the Captain pushes it back in. 

Korrē is too ashamed to even look at her Lord. "I'm so sorry."

Vader leans down and places a sticky hand on her montrals. "Rise, Korrē." She does, shaking and teary-eyed. He pulls her onto His gory lap.

Korrē leans into the hand He presses against her cheek. "Please forgive me, Master," she whispers.

Vader presses a soft kiss against her montral. The Grand Inquisitor's satisfied smirk falters. "I love you, Korrē." His hand slides down her cheek, rests around her throat. "You are my daughter, my apprentice, my heir." Her eyes widen and tear up with His praise. "But if my Inquisitors disobey you, it is because they believe you are weak. My daughter is not weak." He tightens His hand.

Korrē's eyes go wide and her mouth gapes open, but she doesn't struggle. She accepts her punishment, not even kicking as He chokes the life out of her. Her hands come up and wrap around His wrist; she clings to her Master even as He kills her.

The Grand Inquisitor's smirk returns. He—like all of the selfish, ambitious Inquisitorious—believes that he will become the Emperor's new apprentice if she fails.

The Captain's hand tightens on his sidearm. He knows he can't stop the Emperor from taking her life if her life is what He desires, but He won't be fast enough to stop him from taking his own.

Vader waits until Korrē's eyes roll back in her head and she goes limp, then loosens His grip. Five long seconds pass in which the Captain doesn't feel his own heart beating; Korrē finally comes to with a gasp. "You are forgiven." Vader removes His hand from her throat with a sadistic smile. The Captain lets out the breath he has been holding.

"Thank you, Master," Korrē says faintly. She rests her head against His chest and closes her eyes.

"Bring Beru forward," Vader orders, pointing to a spot in front of the throne. "Don't cry, little one. I said you're forgiven." One hand slips up Korrē's back and strokes her rear lek. 

The Tatooinian woman rips her arm away from Vaughn. "I can walk by myself," she snaps. She lifts her chin and meets His golden eyes fearlessly.

"My wife and children are missing, Beru." Vader gives her a friendly smile, and in the smoky darkness He almost looks like Anakin. "You know where they are. The desert is a dangerous place. Even now, they are in danger from Tuskens, Jawas, krayt dragons. Help me protect them."

Beru shakes her head. "Your mother would be ashamed of you."

The room falls vacuum-silent except for the vicious growl that erupts from Korrē's chest. Vader shushes her with a soft touch between her montrals. "My mother died in agony because your husband and his father—her owners—were too weak to protect her. I was the one who retrieved her." 

"She died free, Anakin." Beru doesn't shy from his golden gaze. "No matter how it started, she loved him at the end."

A muscle works in Vader's cheek. He slaps a button on Jabba's throne with the hand not fondling Korrē's lek. The floor beneath Beru—and Vaughn—opens. "Whoops," Vader says casually as His throne slides forward. He peers down into the grate. "Try to stay alive down there, Vaughn!" He calls down over their screaming. His eyes flick up to the Captain, then to the back stairs.

The Captain immediately elbows Jesse. He nods and heads for the stairs with a handful of men. 

"Now, Korrē." Vader reclines in His throne, petting her head fondly, and gestures at Ridge to bring the Seventh Sister forward. His gloved, bloody finger slips inside Korrē's mouth and tugs on her upper fang. "The eyes were a nice touch, but I think you can do better." 

The Captain glances up at the Grand Inquisitor. His smirk is long gone.

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump, @soliloquy-of-nemo Divider: @saradika-graphics

[sistersorrow]

Started playing Cult of the Lamb today

I've found that things are less frustrating when I imagine the gospels written about my playthrough

My first ever follower isn't being a dissenting shithead who refuses reeducation, this is the tragic tale of the first apostle of the Worthy Vessel who turned from the grace of the Lamb and so will be struck down for his sins

This deer I found in the woods is gonna be my little Judas Iscariot because it's a more interesting tale than "I don't l know how I'm fucking up this hard on easy difficulty, but by the Lamb, I found the way"

[margarets-town]

cult of the lamb blurb :3

in my cult there is a little white lamb called fear. when he first showed up, his eyes were wet with hot, angry tears, and he thrashed and screamed and kicked and yelled the most profane, sinful things. i had recently discovered the idea of reeducating dissenters, and decided to try it on this spitting, bleating lamb.

nowadays he speaks kindly, cheerily. he greets me warmly when we cross paths. only him and i know the sin i cut and pulled and hurt from him night after night. only him and i know the sparks where his and my blood trickled and met. only him and i know.

[thewahookid]

Our Lady's Medjugorje Mission of Peace

In this video we share Our Lady's Medjugorje Mission of Peace.   Please support my channel by liking, sharing and subscribing!   Our Lady's mission in Medjugorje is one of peace.   She has come to earth to reeducate us and to help us convert and recenter our lives back to God.   Our Lady's role has always been one of guiding people to Her Son, Jesus.   What an amazing opportunity we have before us!   Our Lady's call to conversion is urgent, and we should respond with all our hearts.   Once Our Lady has stopped appearing there will be three warnings given to the world.   These warnings will be in the form of events on earth.   They will occur within Mirjana's lifetime, and Mirjana will be a witness to them.   Ten days before each of the warnings, she will advise the priest she chose for this task (Father Petar Ljubicic), who will then pray and fast with Mirjana for seven days.   Then, three days before each warning is to take place, Father Petar will announce to the world what, where, and when the warning will take place.   Father Petar has no choice, and must reveal each warning.   After the first warning, the other two will follow in a rather short period of time.   That interval will be a period of great grace and conversion.   After the permanent, visible, supernatural, and indestructible sign appears on the mountain where Our Lady first appeared in Medjugorje,  there will be little time for conversion.   For that reason, the Blessed Virgin invites us to urgent conversion and reconciliation.   The permanent sign will lead to many healings and conversions before the secrets become reality.   According to Mirjana, the events predicted by the Blessed Virgin are near.   By virtue of this experience, Mirjana proclaims to the world: 'Hurry, be converted; open your hearts to God.' ​ The ninth and tenth secrets are serious.   They concern chastisement for the sins of the world.   Punishment is inevitable, for we cannot expect the whole world to be converted.   The punishment can be diminished by prayer and penance, but it cannot be eliminated.   Mirjana says that one of the evils that threatened the world,   the one contained in the seventh secret,   has been averted,   thanks to prayer and fasting.   That is why the Blessed Virgin continues to encourage prayer and fasting: "You have forgotten that with prayer and fasting you can ward off wars,   suspend natural laws." ​ In addition to this basic message, Mirjana related an apparition she had in 1982, which sheds some light on certain aspects of Church history.   She spoke of an apparition in which satan appeared to her,   and asked Mirjana to renounce Our Lady and to follow him.   By doing so she could be happy in love and in life.   He added that following Our Lady would only lead to suffering.   Mirjana rejected him, and immediately Our Lady appeared and Satan disappeared.   Then Our Lady gave Mirjana the following message: ​ "Excuse me for this, but you must realize that Satan exists.   One day he appeared before the throne of God and asked permission to submit the Church to a period of trial.   God gave him permission to try the Church for one century.   This century is under the power of the devil; but when the secrets confided to you come to pass, his power will be destroyed.   Even now he is beginning to lose his power and has become aggressive.   He is destroying marriages, creating divisions among priests and is responsible for obsessions and murder.   You must protect yourselves against these things through fasting and prayer,   especially community prayer.   Carry blessed objects with you.   Put them in your house,   and restore the use of holy water." ​ According to certain Catholic experts who have studied these apparitions,   this message of Mirjana may shed light on the vision Pope Leo XIII had.   According to them, it was after having had an apocalyptic vision of the future of the Church that Leo XIII introduced the prayer to Saint Michael,   which priests used to recite after Mass up to the time of the Second Vatican Council.   These experts say that the century of trials foreseen by Leo XIII is about to end.   ​ Since the apparitions began in 1981, approximately 40 million people of all faiths, from all over the world, have visited Medjugorje and have left spiritually strengthened and renewed.   Many bring back stories of miracles in the form of healings (of mind, body and spirit), supernatural visual signs, and deep conversions back to God.   You owe it to yourself and your loved ones,  to investigate with an open mind and heart the messages which are given to us by Our Lady of Medjugorje.   I invite you to read these messages and decide for yourself how they will affect your life and that of your family.      

[paintthisworldred]

@soviet-ghost-story sent “your shoulders are tense.”

Her body tensed, shoulders bunching up as she attempted to stay still, feeling his firm body behind her back. Not close enough to touch her but close enough to feel the heat radiating from him, the feeling of his breath against her neck enough to make her beg for him to stop. But, she was tougher than that so, she sucked in a breath and turned her head back until he was in her field of vision. Why did he have to be so close? Not that she disliked the feeling but she wasn't used to it.

Sin had remembered small fragments of her past life but shooting was not part of the fresh memories. Now here she was, with the ex-Winter soldier learning how to hold a gun properly.

“ I'm not really comfortable with this, yet..” she admitted, showing him the gun. “Why can't I remember?!” she asked, frustration and irritation in her voice.

[ticktocktouko]

Meeting Heart Host sooner than we think?

Hi, so, I've been thinking a lot about this, and we don't have a lot of information on Excessa, but due to the nature of it I've been wondering if we're gonna end up meeting the Heart host sooner than we think.We know that our last few hosts we have to meet are Gluttony, Sloth, and Greed. We've theorized pretty solidly that Veevra Avrice will be the greed host based on name alone, but also process of elimination. We can easily see that Erios Nimis will be our Gluttony host - The green skin and star matching the green vial with the tooth, representing Gluttony, their name meaning "Love Excess", the delivery of sugary snacks on empty cargo ships for a party of the ages - it's indulgence central in Excessa.

Technically Veevra is our "process of elimination pick" because there's one more host we can say for certainty what they are - and that's the Heart Host as Sloth. We know from the vials and the panel of Wrathia mixing them (page 168 - a LONG time ago!) that Heart is represented in a Pink color, which matches the vial with what can be assumed to be a sleeping pill. Now, knowing this, we've seen one character in the comic so far with these motifs - the gaming avatar of "angelicpurr" that Olai was playing an MMO with (2432, 2433, 2436, 2438). In fact, if you zoom in close enough on page 2436, you can see an avatar next to the chat window of a figure with cat ears and a hairstyle that could easily match the cast image for the Heart Host with more detail, along with what looks to be a princess-style dress.

Now, what leads me to believe we might see the Heart host sooner than we think? Well, it's pretty simple - Excessa is an entertainment planet of indulgence about to throw a giant party for a member of royalty. Heart host has a few royal motifs (crown, princess dress in icon). Most royalty have multiple servants to do their bidding, and for a Host with a Sloth demon that's pretty much paradise. While evidence that Heart Host is royalty is debatable at best (look at when we met Odin, for instance) we do know that them playing a game called "TITANFantasy Online" using Titan tech, we can assume they're a follower of some caliber - ranging from Maggie and Ava on a reeducation planet to Gil's "devoted for life", but given the nature of the sin of Sloth, I'm leaning more towards the former. 

Now, the reason I even thought of this is because Erios Nimis and their Soundmaster Byte alter-ego reminds me of video-game avatars, especially with the Tamagotchi motif. We don't yet know if his double life status is well known or not, but if it is, I suspect it could be seen as the more "cool" option to represent yourself as a funky alter-ego, rather than as yourself, much like a video game avatar. As mentioned, Excessa could be paradise for a Sloth-demon bearing host, and while a party isn't a "lounge about and do nothing" opportunity, it is certainly a "have fun" one, and who's to say we couldn't run into other followers during this event? Being a party sponsored by Titan, it's even possible Veevra Avrice or even Strategos and Taxiarch could arrive. The last three are certainly a long shot, but not impossible.

Regardless of if we run into the Heart Host or not, I'm looking forward to see what Erios and the demon that accompanies them has to offer in this arc. I've been reading this comic for a very, very long time and I've always been excited to see where it goes next.

[kittenofdoomage]

Sinful Sunday Masterlist (Sept 20th 2020)

Thanks For COMING 😂😂

Sinful Sunday has now concluded, and here’s the masterlist:

Dean Winchester

Good Morning

Mine (A/B/O)

Going The Distance (Dean Smith x reader)

After Hours (Dean Smith x reader)

Staying In (Dean Smith x reader)

Right Now (Dean Smith x reader)

Gossip (Dean Smith x reader)

Done

Please

Tension

Sam Winchester

Desperate (A/B/O)

The First Time (A/B/O)

Disturbance (A/B/O)

Ache

John Winchester

Waiting

Worth The Risk

Shush 

Red Handed

Negan

Reeducation

Multiple Characters

Deepest Desires (Dean x reader x Sam)

Proposition (Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers)

Pet (John x reader, Dean x reader, Sam x reader)

Birthday Request (Demon!Dean x reader x Negan)

Loving It (Demon!Dean x reader x Soulless!Sam)

Ruining The Upholstery (John x reader, Dean x reader, Sam x reader)

Marvel

A Thorough Job (Alpha!Steve Rogers x reader) (A/B/O)

My Queen (Thor x reader)

Heavenly (Thor x reader)

Ao3 Link

[[ KO-FI ]]

[[ PATREON ]]

[godoflobsters]

Hand in Unlovable Hand Pt. 1

It is said that history is written by the victors, and the tales of the Great Celestial War are no different. But sometimes, there are things that even those on the losing side would never dare to utter again. These memories that shatter one like glass, best suited only for the lonely nights in the bottom of bottles of Ambrosia and Demonus, hide deep within the hearts of the two angels that started it all.

Author’s Note: So when I was rereading some of the later chapters I came across a really tiny detail that made me think up a whole new theory on just how the Celestial War started so, like any sane person, I started writing a whole ass multi chapter fic for it! Enjoy!

Lucifer’s head ached as he poured over the piles of paperwork littering his desk, shining with a kaleidoscope of colors as the Celestial sunlight poured in from the stained glass above him. It had been a week since his last meeting with the young Devildom Prince and as he skimmed over the newest proposition that had been excitedly shoved into his hands moments before he had taken flight back to his home, he was starting to feel as if he was finally in over his head.

If he had known just what he was getting himself into when he was invited to his first meeting with the Prince, he would have pushed the responsibility off on Simeon...he was always better at this whole diplomacy thing. Lucifer was created to revel in his Father’s glory and to smite all of those who would seek to taint such glory with their darkness. And yet...he had broken bread with the future king of the darkness. Wretched creatures that he had been told were capable of only evil spoke of only peace and diplomacy. The prince of lies had taken a vow of honesty. They had treated him with kindness and respect despite his combatant attitude.

There was no way that these demons were doing this for peace, prosperity, or whatever they liked to go on about, they had to have some sort of angle. For centuries he hyper-analyzed every interaction that he had with the Prince, keeping a carefully guarded wall of pride slammed down between them all the while, and yet...he found nothing but sincere love for his people and his realm. And yearning to make his father proud of him. Maybe that was why Lucifer had started to let his walls down around him.

It started small, finally accepting the cups of tea that Diavolo’s butler insisted on providing every single time that he came down to Hell. Diavolo taught him the delicacy that was a princess’s poisoned apple, almost better than anything he’d eaten in the celestial realm. Eventually they would swap bottles of ambrosia for bottles of demonus, drinking together deep into the night to where Lucifer would complete his duties the next morning with a pounding in his head. Sometimes, when even his favorite little siblings were set on getting on his very last nerve, he would make the trip down to the Devildom unprompted just to sit in the privacy of the Demon Lord’s Castle, nursing a cup of his new favorite blend of tea and listening to Diavolo chatter about the newest goings on of his realm. Now, he sat cooped up in his office on his day off, sifting through Diavolo’s proposed plans for making his dreams of peace into a reality.

His plans started at home, restrictions on travel to the Human Realm and improvements to infrastructure. Then he moved on to the creation of a school (or perhaps a reeducation center of sorts would be a better term for it?) that would teach the demons about the culture and history of the other realms in addition to their own, with an emphasis on magic, arts, and cultures, rather than the battle strategies and war tactics that his father had always favored instilling in his subjects. He proposed allowing his people a few centuries of learning and growing accustomed to their new way of life before moving to the next step in his plan...an exchange program.

Lucifer was so engrossed in studying Diavolo’s plans, that the soft sound of footsteps on the marble floor behind him went completely unnoticed until warm hands cupped his chin, tipping his head back just far enough for soft lips to place a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?” The corner of his mouth quirked upwards into a soft smirk when his eyes met the soft gold of Michael’s gaze.

“Yes, I am,” he leaned forward and pressed another chaste kiss to his lips, his long braids spilling over Lucifer’s shoulders and pooling onto the papers before them, “aren’t you supposed to not be working right now?”

“Touché,” he muttered, bringing his hand to the back of Michael’s head to bring him back down to his mouth.

Michael’s laugh rang out warm and sweet as honey as he put a finger up to Lucifer’s lips, “What are you working on Starlight?” He opted to lean over his shoulder, skimming over the papers before him. “...the Devildom?” He snatched the paper off of the table, spinning out of Lucifer’s grasp and pouring over the sheet in his hands. “Once a satisfactory level of education and understanding has been reached among Devildom citizens, afew chosen citizens of each of the realms will be brought to live together for a year as a part of the cultural exchange program…” He turns back around, brows pinching together in confusion. “Lucifer… what is this?”

“The Demon Prince has devised a plan of action for his interrealm peace initiative,” he calmly snatched the paper out of Michael’s hands, shuffling it back into the pile of paperwork on his desk, “during our last meeting he sent me back with the first drafts for his plans so I've been looking through them since I have time to do so today.” He turned, arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow cocked up at the Seraph. “Don't act so shocked, Michael. I know that I've discussed this with you before.”

“Yes, I know,” he brought his hands up to rest on his upper arms, drawing small circles into Lucifer’s pale skin with his thumbs, “you told all of us about the demons’ plans. Father explicitly stated that he wants us to take no part in that foolish plan.” His grip tightened, face hardening into a stern glare as his golden eyes met the depths of Lucifer’s ruby gaze. “Why do you continue to pursue this?”

“You are the one who pushed this off on me in the first place and yet now you berate me for following through with the tasks that I've been given,” his jaw clenches as a familiar anger began to smoulder under his skin. “I take pride in my work.”

“Pride is a sin Lucifer!” He pulled back, massaging his temples as he paced around the room. “You, of all people, have to see that he is just using you. You have seen what the Demon King is capable of, there is no way that his spawn is truly aspiring for peace of all things. Father has been telling you this for centuries and you keep going back at that demon’s every beck and call!”

“Father has hardly told us anything in millenia,” he snapped, grabbing Michael by the arm and yanking him to stand before him, looking him in the eyes. Lucifer’s head ached, like someone was standing behind his eyes, beating and screaming, in a voice that wasn't his own, to get out.

“I've never noticed it before,” he pulled back, trying to wrench himself from the grip that Lucifer kept on his arm, “but your eyes look almost exactly like Father’s when you're angry.”

Michael’s words were quiet, but the effect they had on Lucifer was powerful. As the image of their father’s cold green eyes flashed through his mind, Lucifer’s grip on his arm eased and he took a long deep breath to settle himself.

“Almost everything that we know about the demons isn't true Michael. I don't want to say that Father has been lying to us, but after everything that I’ve seen…” He trailed off, unable to meet Michael’s eyes. “I just think that this program that Diavolo is planning could be a good thing for all of the realms.”

“Lucifer,” he paused before letting out a long sigh. He took his hand into his own before pulling off his Ring of Wisdom and slipping it onto his finger. “Now, more than ever, you need the wisdom to make these difficult decisions,” he leans in and presses a kiss to Lucifer’s temple, “I know that you will choose what is best for us, my Morningstar. I love you.”

“I…” trying desperately to push down the rising unease in his gut, he pulls off his own Ring of light and slides it into Michael’s finger, “I love you too.”

But nowadays, he wasn't so sure anymore.

[gettothestabbing]

In the longer term, the official policy of the American de-Nazification program was to get Germans to accept collective responsibility for what had happened, including posters which showed atrocities and said things like, “This is your fault,” and “These Atrocities - Your Fault.”

And this is chiefly where the Frankfurt School’s work on fascism being some inborn psychological trait of the German mindset began to take root as official policy. In Fascism: The Career of a Concept, Paul Gottfried chronicles how the definition of fascism, or the authoritarian personality type, expanded far beyond the specific atrocities of the Nazis and came to be seen as something endemic in German culture and history as a whole, even going so far as to implicate Christianity itself.

Sidney Bernstein, the chief of the psychological warfare division in 1946, said, “The aim of this program was to shake and humiliate the Germans and prove to them beyond any possible challenge that these German crimes against humanity were committed and that the German people - and not just the Nazis and the SS - bore responsibility.”

In fact, America forced Germany through all four stages of the process that Yuri Bezmenov describes, and by the 1970s had been largely successful. Certainly, if you look at Germany today, you can see just how successful they were. . . .

Now at the top level, successive American governments came to lose interest in the de-Nazification program as they became more embroiled in the Cold War. In 1949, Borkheimer and Adorno returned to Frankfurt and restarted the Institute of Social Research. Around this time, America handed over control to the Germans, who would now be responsible for their own reeducation.

Now it strikes me that, since this time, since 1949, 1950, the institutions and processes that were set up in the direct aftermath of WWII continued largely unchecked. The definition of fascism didn’t stop with the German people or German culture. Over time, it expanded to include European culture as a whole, British culture, and, indeed, American culture. No one person needed to be in charge of this. It worked almost by itself.

As Frankfurt School-type thought came to dominate universities in the 1960s and onward, not as the result of infiltration from Moscow, but as a form of continuation from systems, institutions, and programs that had been set up by the Frankfurt School and their allies in the 1940s.

If the original sin of the Germans was to be the Holocaust, each other country would find its own original sin. in Britain, it was the Empire and colonialism, In America, it was slavery and racism. Now, in 2020, all of these things have all coalesced into one unifying concept called ‘whiteness,’ and for the reeducation program finally to be completed, of course, the symbols of these things must be destroyed, or else the new mindset cannot take root.

In other words, the de-Nazification program never ended. It only expanded itself to include more and more things under the definition of fascism. That’s why Antifa see themselves as fighting ‘fascism.’ So now you know what Yuri didn’t tell you.

[emilyh]

Rape, torture and human experiments. Sayragul Sauytbay offers firsthand testimony from a Xinjiang 'reeducation' camp

“In November 2017, I was ordered to report to an address in the city’s suburbs, to leave a message at a phone number I had been given and to wait for the police.” After Sauytbay arrived at the designated place and left the message, four armed men in uniform arrived, again covered her head and bundled her into a vehicle. After an hour’s journey, she arrived in an unfamiliar place that she soon learned was a “reeducation” camp, which would become her prison in the months that followed. She was told she had been brought there in order to teach Chinese and was immediately made to sign a document that set forth her duties and the camp’s rules.

“I was very much afraid to sign,” Sauytbay recalls. “It said there that if I did not fulfill my task, or if I did not obey the rules, I would get the death penalty. The document stated that it was forbidden to speak with the prisoners, forbidden to laugh, forbidden to cry and forbidden to answer questions from anyone. I signed because I had no choice, and then I received a uniform and was taken to a tiny bedroom with a concrete bed and a thin plastic mattress. There were five cameras on the ceiling – one in each corner and another one in the middle.”

The other inmates, those who weren’t burdened with teaching duties, endured more stringent conditions. “There were almost 20 people in a room of 16 square meters [172 sq. ft.],” she says. “There were cameras in their rooms, too, and also in the corridor. Each room had a plastic bucket for a toilet. Every prisoner was given two minutes a day to use the toilet, and the bucket was emptied only once a day. If it filled up, you had to wait until the next day. The prisoners wore uniforms and their heads were shaved. Their hands and feet were shackled all day, except when they had to write. Even in sleep they were shackled, and they were required to sleep on their right side – anyone who turned over was punished.”

Sauytbay had to teach the prisoners – who were Uyghur or Kazakh speakers – Chinese and Communist Party propaganda songs. She was with them throughout the day. The daily routine began at 6 A.M. Chinese instruction took place after a paltry breakfast, followed by repetition and rote learning. There were specified hours for learning propaganda songs and reciting slogans from posters: “I love China,” “Thank you to the Communist Party,” “I am Chinese” and “I love Xi Jinping” – China’s president.

The afternoon and evening hours were devoted to confessions of crimes and moral offenses. “Between 4 and 6 P.M. the pupils had to think about their sins. Almost everything could be considered a sin, from observing religious practices and not knowing the Chinese language or culture, to immoral behavior. Inmates who did not think of sins that were severe enough or didn’t make up something were punished.”

After supper, they would continue dealing with their sins. “When the pupils finished eating they were required to stand facing the wall with their hands raised and think about their crimes again. At 10 o’clock, they had two hours for writing down their sins and handing in the pages to those in charge. The daily routine actually went on until midnight, and sometimes the prisoners were assigned guard duty at night. The others could sleep from midnight until six.”

The camp’s commanders set aside a room for torture, Sauytbay relates, which the inmates dubbed the “black room” because it was forbidden to talk about it explicitly. “There were all kinds of tortures there. Some prisoners were hung on the wall and beaten with electrified truncheons. There were prisoners who were made to sit on a chair of nails. I saw people return from that room covered in blood. Some came back without fingernails.”

Why were people tortured?

“They would punish inmates for everything. Anyone who didn’t follow the rules was punished. Those who didn’t learn Chinese properly or who didn’t sing the songs were also punished.”

And everyday things like these were punished with torture?

“I will give you an example. There was an old woman in the camp who had been a shepherd before she was arrested. She was taken to the camp because she was accused of speaking with someone from abroad by phone. This was a woman who not only did not have a phone, she didn’t even know how to use one. On the page of sins the inmates were forced to fill out, she wrote that the call she had been accused of making never took place. In response she was immediately punished. I saw her when she returned. She was covered with blood, she had no fingernails and her skin was flayed.”

[philosopherking1887]

LOL, someone blocked me for suggesting that selfishness and altruism are both basic components of human nature, and that selfishness wasn’t invented by capitalism. This confirms me in my hypothesis that many people on the far Left are ideologically committed to a neo-Rousseauian worldview according to which human nature is fundamentally good, meaning altruistic and cooperative, and that people only behave in selfish and competitive ways because they’ve been corrupted away from their true nature by capitalist society. To which I would want to ask: where did capitalism come from? Aliens?

I say that they are “ideologically committed” to this view of human nature because their desired political aim -- socialist anarchism -- is only viable if they are correct, and once capitalism has been eliminated no one will try to break the social rules or free-ride. Or if they do (because those old capitalist habits might be hard to break!), they can be successfully reeducated. Except maybe for the profoundly evil ruling classes, who must be guillotined, because they are the source of all evil in society. Does any of this sound familiar?

You can’t literally blame Rousseau for the Terror, because he probably didn’t expect that his ideas would be taken as gospel by any governing regime, but there’s a reason that historians point to the Jacobins’ espousal of Rousseau’s philosophy as an important causal factor. The reason is this: if you think human nature is basically good, but certain people persist in acting badly (i.e., selfishly), you’re committed to thinking that these people are either reparably corrupted, and hence amenable to reeducation, or irreparably corrupted, or somehow not quite human. In the latter two cases, you have no choice but to eliminate them to keep them from corrupting anyone else.

Most systems of laws depend on the assumption that human beings are mostly cooperative, but sometimes they aren’t. Norms will be followed most of the time because people are cooperative and inclined to want to do their part in keeping the community running smoothly; but for people who aren’t motivated that way, there’s the threat of sanction. I fully acknowledge that capitalist culture has been damaging because it emphasizes the selfish aspect of human nature, rewards approved kinds of selfishness, and regards other kinds of antisocial behavior as inevitable and only manageable through increasingly harsh punishment. (Well, there are a lot of factors in that latter, including Christianity’s “human beings are inherently sinful” attitude.) My warning is that failing to see selfishness as equally a part of human nature, failing to expect and account for the moral grayness of human nature, can lead to horrific regimes of oppression.