#anyways talking about religion is not something i normally do

[caffeinatedopossum]

I kind of hate how just because I don't subscribe to any religion or believe in any specific god, people assume that means that I *disbelieve* in god(s)

I simply don't have much reason to think about whether or not there's a god, besides when I just want to enjoy some good old philosophical/hypothetical thinking or conversations.

Like people will hear I'm not Christian and go "how come you don't believe in god?" like no, no you misunderstand me. I don't NOT believe in god, I just don't believe in *your* god. And if your god is real, then it changes nothing about how I'm going to live my life. The Christian god is an ass and not someone I'm going to worship. I'm just gonna spend my life trying to do good, and if your god doesn't like that, then he's not a very good god, is he?

[trickstersaint]

transubstantiation // august 2 2023

[paging-possum]

was going to start writing an essay about the possible overlap between christianity and OCD and then I remembered im on Tumblr dot com and also a fucking idiot when it comes to putting things into words

[timeisacephalopod]

The pushback to the term "cultural Christianity" from atheists is real odd to me because, as someone who has been an atheist since 13, only ever went to church a handful of times never with my own family (made a note never to sleep over at that friends house on a Saturday again bc I HATED church it smelled like shit, was boring, pews are uncomfortable as fuck, and the religious people I knew were all wildly misogynistic and I've never been here for being told I was less of a person for being Born Like This), and generally had no actual connection to Christianity in a meaningful way but still only knows Christian mythology, has been steeped in Christian values I had to untangle, and my religious understandings are still deeply Christian.

Like Ive never paid attention to the bible, church, Jesus, Christian teachings, or whatever but if you asked me about any religion the one I'll reliably know the most about is Christianity. I don't know why atheists are offended by being called culturally Christian because they have bad blood with the religion because like sorry bruh that doesn't mean you're less indoctrinated by Christian values if the culture you grew up in is predominantly Christian. In fact I'd say that religion being this ubiquitous in the culture regardless of anyone's consent to exactly ONE religion being shoved down our throats is reason to team up with other religious folks who ALSO don't like being constantly evangelized to by the culture at large, not a reason to throw a fit because you don't like being tied to a religion that is so ingrained into the culture that shit like "oh my god" and "Jesus Christ" are common expressions of surprise regardless of how atheist you are. Like surely I'm not the only atheist to notice the shocking amount of cultural religious shit that works it's way into my life and speech despite having not set foot in a church since I was like 10, and I can't remember the last time I was in one before that.

Idk man cultural Christianity seems like a pretty damn useful term to describe my relationship with a religion I never fully bought into and then actively rejected as a child yet still hold weird connections to and knowledge of just because Christianity is so baked into the culture I grew up in like it or not. If you want to be mad, be mad at the Christians who stole your freedom from religion from you, not usually religious minorities who discuss cultural Christianity and how it damages them too.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita/wibta for NOT breaking up with my bf ?

i'm not sure if the title is phrased weirdly, bare with me. my bf and i are both 18, he is cis M & i am FTM (relevant).

My bf and i are both currently in first year uni, both living at home due to high cost of living in our country (also everywhere else lol). We met about halfway through highschool, and were friends for a while before getting together. we are coming up on two years together in a couple months, and have not really had any major bumps in our relationship. we see eachother i would say 1-2x per week, with both of us living at home and being broke it gets a little challenging sometimes but we call most nights and generally we make it work. Also worth noting that I am my bf's first everything, down to his first kiss, while he is not really this for me. this is the longest relationship i have been in (probably because i'm 18 lol), but not at all the first. however, the only "serious" relationship i have had outside of of him, aside from just casual stuff, was very abusive & toxic, so i do sort of see us on equal footing as neither of us has ever been in a normal, functional relationship before.

Now, the issue: while we are both currently living at home, i see this as a very temporary arrangement and something i am counting down the days until i can get out of. while living with my family is not abusive or anything, it is just very straining as i am not very close with them, and also cannot transition while living at home. as previously mentioned i am ftm, and while my mom is tolerant it would just put even more stress on the relationship if i were to start changing physically while living at home or even asking her to use different pronouns for me and is just something i prefer to leave until i'm not 100% reliant on her. that being said my dysphoria causes me very intense depression and without getting too detailed, i don't know how much longer i can take living here and putting off any sort of meaningful transition outside of close/online friends calling me he.

my bf, however, plans to live at home at least until he graduates, which is six years away. i understand that this is a very normal thing, especially culturally (he is middle eastern + muslim, i am white + agnostic), but the issue is that his mother is, among many other things, extremely homophobic. she already hates me for reasons i'm not really sure of (my bf refuses to go into detail, i think to protect me, but i have seen extremely graphic and nasty texts about me by name on his phone and have been told by him that he doesn't even mention me around the house or else she gets extremely upset, though she is always extremely nice to me the few times we have interacted), but anyways, me transitioning while he is still living at home would be essentially putting him in legitimate danger.

my bf does not like to think about this, which i understand. it's hard enough dealing with what i get from my family, and that is absolutely nothing compared to the fact that everyone he knows from his culture/religion beleives he should be dead just because he is gay (i know, as does he, that there are queer muslims. but they do not exist openly in his personal community). but the problem is that anytime i adress to him that the idea of waiting until we are in our mid-twenties for me to even think about transitioning is a really big issue for me he basically refuses to talk about it and just says that "it will work out". on top of the transitioning thing i just generally don't want to be twenty-five (the age he has told me is when he plans to move out) and still having to cancel dates last minute because my boyfriend's mom was in a bad mood and decided he's not allowed to go out tonight. i know this is how life is for many people and they learn to deal with it! and i respect them very much! but it is genuinely my nightmare. i understand why he cannot/does not want to cut himself off from his family, especially since his dad lives overseas and is extremely wealthy so therefore paying his entire tuition out of pocket. i'm just saying it's not a lifestyle that meshes well with my future plans.

this is where the asshole part comes in: my bf genuinely thinks that we are going to spend the rest of our lives together. this started with small comments, things like alluding to the idea of our potential future kids (i love kids and raising my own is genuinely my end goal in life, something he knows just because i am very open about it), or talking about our future apartment/house, but now is basically just a constant conversation in our relationship. i try not to feed into it, but i also feel badly responding to his sweet comment when i point out a house i like on the street about how we'll buy it one day with something about how i don't ever see that happening. i generally just respond neutrally, but i will admit i get caught up in the fantasy sometimes and contribute to it as well.

he is such a lovely guy with a beautiful heart and i do really adore him, and it's not a situation where i don't want to spend the rest of my life with him. to be honest, that's the dream. i love him with everything i have and i would literally do anything for him. the problem is just that when he talks about this future together all i can picture is all the million ways our relationship is doomed to implode.

but we are happy right now, because me moving out of my family home is not something that is going to be possible for another 1-2 years, so none of those issues are something that are going to come up right now. i just forsee them being pretty much impossible obstacles between us and spending the rest of our lives together down the line. but i have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that even though i want more than anything to be with him forever, the fact that i don't remotely beleive it's something that will actually work out still constitutes as leading him on.

so, am i the asshole for staying with him, because we are happy right now and these issues are not going to be relevant for another 1-2 years, and a solution might somehow present itself in that time? or is the right thing to do to just leave now, and rip off the bandaid?

What are these acronyms?

[pineappleciders]

heyy first of all its me the fucked up dream anon (now going by dream anon how original) second of all ive decided im going to learn about south park purely through your work so can i get some tweek (ive latched onto that boy) and whoever else you want (probably the main boys) with a reader (all platonic ofc) who's got that #anxiety? thanks even if you dont do it <33

🌌🌟/dream anon

main 4 + tweek with a reader who has anxiety; platonic headcanons

A/N: haii :3 i apologize if this like, distorts your vision of the characters or something. i am so glad you are being converted to the religion of tweek!!!!!!

TRIGGER WARNING: anxiety disorders, light mental health topics, paranoia, panic/anxiety attacks, death mention on kennys part

stan marsh

i think stan has a normal amount of anxiety. like he's so regular. he's your average joe

like he gets anxious over tests, and giving speeches, and over wendy. other than that he doesn't experience it to the extent of a disorder

so it might be a little difficult for him to imagine getting anxious over simple things like ordering food and stuff like that

he'll try his best to listen though, although he'll probably try to kinda reason with you, esp if you're feeling paranoid or something

"dude, i checked twice, it's locked. relax, man."

he'll try to distract you, by playing games and watching stuff, and just generally kinda trying to be funny to take your mind off of things

if you're having a panic/anxiety attack, he kinda panics too at first, before quickly pulling you away and asking what's wrong. he is sweating very hard

if you're unresponsive, he tries to stay calm but is honestly considering calling an ambulance. like he thinks you're having a stroke

"shit, a panic attack? uh, okay, errr.... take deep breaths, okay? in.. and out. in.. and out. okay, that's good.."

he looks up grounding techniques on his phone and relays them to you until you calm down and catch your breath. he like sends you images off of google of the 5 senses technique randomly and says he figured you'd need it someday

he tries to keep your anxiety in mind, and might slip up sometimes, but for the most part he tries to be careful with his words and actions as to not worry you. he shows his care in subtle ways!!

kyle broflovski

he tries to kinda. logic it out a bit. like if you're feeling insecure he tells you how unrealistic it is for someone to think about one random passerby's appearance forever

he does feel bad though. he doesn't completely understand, but whenever he's feeling insecure he tends to get really anxious about people at school

he usually gets anxious whenever he's doing something wrong or sneaking out. like he's actually sweating and shitting his pants thinking about what his mom will do to him if she finds out

he'll encourage you to order food for yourself, to get yourself out there more, and if you succeed he'll pat your shoulder and smile a lil

if you don't want to, he might dramatically sigh but he'll do it anyways. cuz he knows how hard it is

i do think he'd get a little anxious about asking workers for help and stuff, but he'll be the bigger person... he supposes... smh my head...

when you have an panic attack for the first time, he's like really confused and gets super concerned that you're having a heart attack, and pulls his phone out to dial your parents or 911

"i'm here for you dude! listen- hey, listen to me. it's okay. can- can you-"

he tries to talk to you to de-escalate it, but he gives up and has his hand on your back, while looking up what the fuck to do

'friend havign panjc atgack what to do'

if you're okay with it, he probably talks to your parents about it. he doesn't really trust himself to be able to always calm you down, so he encourages getting outside/professional help

he does try though, and he'll always be there for you in different ways!! like when you need help with something or just need company to distract you, he's at ur door with his xbox 360

eric cartman

you can tell that eric gets a little uncomfortable if you're freaking out or feeling anxious. whether it's because he actually feels bad or just doesn't know how to handle your emotions, you'll never know

but either way, he'll probably just like. sit next to you like "dude, what's up with you?" or in other cases he'll sneakily slip out of the room unseen

he does try to be kinda logical about it, but that's solely because he physically can't speak words of comfort.

"i mean, dude, be seriously. nobody cares about you that much to notice." you speak such kind words eric!!

he doesn't really like it when things get serious, so he'll generally try to transition the situation into something more casual. like he'll try to ease your (his) mood by getting snacks and playing games together, or even begging his mom to take you both to KFC

if you have a panic attack, all of his alarms are blaring and his brain is screaming flight!!!!! flight!!!! run the fuck away!!!!

and he probably tries to, but when you notice him and call his name he physically deflates

he awkwardly turns around and slowly strolls over. "Y/N... heeeeeeey... what's up... duuude..." you can hear the strain in his voice

if it gets to be too much, as in you won't stop hyperventilating or can't breathe, he'll probably alert an adult or take you to the nurse or something. he tells himself it's because he doesn't want to be a suspect of your death

if ur having trouble ordering food he'll gladly take ur place and make a scene to get all eyes on him. "erm excuthe me they athed for no pickleth🤓"

other than when you're voicing your anxiety, he probably treats you the same. i don't really think he'd take advantage of your anxiety unless you were like. butters or heidi or something and he was really trying to get you to do something for him or just trying to. stick himself in your mind. because he's a narcissist and he loves that!!

kenny mccormick

he doesn't relate necessarily, but he definitely understands.

he lives a lot of his life in fear of his next death, and is constantly praying it be quick and painless

kenny is more of a reserved fella, but not really shy or anxious. so if you're having trouble speaking up or ordering something he'll step up and do it gladly!!

i think he'd be pretty decent at comforting. like he'll pat his hand on your back and speak assuring, muffled words

"mm, mmph mmph mmmph! mmph mph mph mmmfmf mmf mph mph mmph!" (aww, it'll be okay. i'll walk you every step of the way, buddy!)

he tries to take your emotions into consideration more, and grabs your hand and squeezes it sometimes if you need a boost of confidence. sometimes he forgets your anxiety and says something rude and feels really bad about it

when you're having a panic attack, he's honestly really scared and expects you to start foaming at the mouth or something

he'll hesitate, but he'll pat your back and try to help you with grounding techniques. the 5-4-3-2-1 in particular is his favorite, and he'll tell you how to do it in like a rlly sweet and calming voice

he's still spooked though, and gets you a water bottle and like a washcloth. he's incredibly thankful you aren't dying or anything

kenny is very good at comforting! sometimes all it takes is a simple moment of eye contact and seeing his eyes crinkle that gives you a surge of calmness you didn't know you needed

tweek tweak

tweek is no outsider to anxiety and stress. he's literally a living beehive with all that damn vibrating

to anyone else, it would seem like tweek had a severe anxiety disorder, or even ADHD. but it turns out it's just a result of his crippling meth addiction and caffiene overdoses

he tries to think about what craigs taught him, about grounding techniques and how to handle a panic attack, and tries to apply those for you

he's shakily take your hand and wrap you in a blanket, making you hot cocoa and helping you slowly come back to your senses

"okay, okay, what are 5 things you can touch? or- no- AGH! was it 5 things you see- hear? no, ACK! i can't remember!"

most of the time if you're feeling on-edge about something, his main goal will be to just listen to you talk and validate your feelings. he doesn't really make it a point to give you advice or try to be logical, unless you directly ask for it

he's great at listening!!! he also doesn't trust his own advice enough to say it to someone else.

he really tries to think hard about what comforts him when he's anxious, and so he tries to use the tactics for you. for instance, he tries to help you get into a hobby like painting to have a bit more control over yourself

hc that tweek loves to draw with crayons so he'll make little drawings of you and him as stick figures being all happy and give them to you. as a treat

overall he is very attentive, and cares a lot. he tries his very best to be there for you, and a lot of the time that results in you two just hanging out or gaming together, so you can both get your mind off of things for a while. it makes him happy to be able to be there for someone else like craig was for him

[doberbutts]

So a friend of mine HILARIOUSLY bought raw dog food from this company based in Lancaster, Pennsylvania aka my hometown, and this is just part of the absolutely unhinged contract they sent her "in order to buy the food". It's like 18 pages and just gets worse and worse as you go but I wanted to pull specifically this part out because of something I mentioned a little while ago.

This contract is *incredibly* Mennonite but I mentioned before that Mennonites love to take pieces of Jewish culture and religion and just. Use it whenever they want. And this sort of exemplifies what I'm talking about. They went out of their way to learn Hebrew and to learn what it means and study the Torah and Jewish law and then immediately conflate it with their own personal [read: CHRISTIAN] understanding of the concept.

Need I remind you this is a company that sells raw meat to feed to dogs.

Anyway I got to this part of the contract and was like "oh, they're Mennonite, they're using Hebrew to talk about God in the Christian sense" because that was such a normal fucking sight in Lancaster that it took me moving out of that area to realize that no, most other Christian sects do not do this. It's so fucking bizarre and I figured y'all would appreciate the peek into what my life was like for 20 years because you couldn't escape it even after I'd left the church

[weird-addiction]

God is Cruel to you, Not Me.

Pairing: House of the Dragon x Male!Targaryen!Reader x Mandela Catalogue Alt Gabriel

Genre: Crossover Angst

Warnings: self-hate, self-harming, guilt, mentions of childbirth death, masochistic tendencies, forcing religion onto someone, manipulation, happy ending for reader but everyone else suffers.

A/n: Final Repost of this. This is official post of this fic. @kawaiiskeletoneggsnerd

Westeros is known for having the religion of the Faith of the Seven, the Valyrians such as the Targaryens and Velaryons. They had the Valyrian gods of old to watch over them, it was always said the Targaryens were closer to gods than to men, they say that because of their dragons.

What if, it was not the dragons that made them closer to god, what if nothing made them closer to the gods.

Well. Except for one.

Y/n Targaryen.

He was known as the younger brother of Rhaenyra Targaryen, when he was born he took the life of both his mother Queen Aemma and his older twin Baelon Targaryen. When he was old enough to understand it, he began to blame himself for killing his mother as he made his way into the world.

The other thing about Y/n is that he was a dreamer, but not just any dreamer. His dreams were not of the future or about the present, it was about something completely different. The first one started at the age of seven, it was a dream of him standing in front of a tree. In front of the tree was a red apple, it was tempting to take a bite out of it. There was a faint voice pulling him ever so slightly forward, but he woke up before he could do anything.

Then the dreams would continue every night, every time he went into the dream he would walk a step forward, inching towards the apple.

Y/n would go to talk to his father about such dreams, Viserys did not fully understand his dreams as they were not the usual dreams of Targaryens that himself has experienced. During the days in the Red Keep, he would hear voices pulling him to places, sometimes he passed out and awake in his room with him on the floor.

He would pick the dagger his uncle Daemon had gifted him during his seventh name day, then begin to make marks on his arms just to relieve the pain he felt building up.

The scars would burn at first, but then he realized he liked the burns.

This was the way he grew up, soon it felt like normal, during nights sometimes he would wake up and see a tall figure at the foot of his bed. The figure was almost as tall as his room, it wore a white robe and had curly blonde hair. Sometimes, he could have sworn he saw wings.

Rhaenyra offered to take him to the sept to pray as to maybe to take his mind off things, but once Y/n even put one foot inside the sept he felt dizzy, like something was restraining him from going inside. He pushed back the feeling and continued in anyway.

“Even though our family worships the Valyrian gods, in Westeros we still have the Faith of the Seven. We should have both as we now live on these lands.” Rhaenyra said.

Y/n stayed silent before speaking, thinking over what he was going to say. “Are there…any other religions in Westeros?” His voice was soft as he turned to his sister.

“Not that I know of.” Rhaenyra then got into a prayer position, she gestured to Y/n to follow her actions.

She then began to pray under her breath, closing her eyes as she spoke to herself. Y/n also tried, but inside his head was something different, a different prayer was said.

‘Say it.’

“My lord, bless for all as I shall never stray. For my blood should be my own, no other gods shall see me bleed.” The words fell out of his lips so easily, he had no control of what he was even saying. And before he knew it, he was done.

And that is how many years passed, the years passed before his own eyes like a blur of colors. The prayer he continued to say over and over again every single night, the tragedies that befall on others, the drama within his family never got to him. It seemed like everyone else around him was miserable, it was he was the only one that was not punished by the gods.

On Driftmark, they were there to attend the funeral of Lady Laena Velayron. He stood next to his sister and his nephews, he kind of felt bored but he gave his best stance regardless. After the speech Vaemond gave, Y/n went over to his uncle Daemon.

“Uncle.” He said.

“Nephew.” Daemon replied back.

“I’m terribly sorry for your loss, I’m sure she was a good wife.”

A smile ghosted Daemon’s lips. “The gods can be cruel, especially to your father.”

Y/n wanted to laugh at that, he pushed back the feeling of it back down. “Yes, they have. Same with my sister. And even you, uncle.”

Daemon had confusion on his mind. “And you?” He asked his nephew.

“Not that I could think of. Nothing has been bad for me in recent years.” Y/n dipped his head slightly, looking out to the ocean.

“Nothing good ever comes to us Targaryens. Every time a Targaryen is born they say the gods flip a coin. If they flipped to the good side, the bad will still be present regardless.” Daemon downed his wine from his goblet in one go.

“What if the gods are just not cruel to me?” Y/n asked with curiosity, his eyes watched the tides below.

“Why don’t you ask your cunt of a step-mother? I am sure that she knows about the ‘higher authority’. Faith and all that.” Daemon lets out a smile, in which Y/n returns to him.

“I doubt she can help me.”

—---------

He went to bed early that night, having the same dream again but this time he was right in front of the apple.

Y/n picked it up without much of another thought, then he took a bite out of it. There was a tree that was planted in front of him, and behind it, a boney pale hand reached out to him, telling him to take its hand.

His body moved on his own as he took it, then everything faded to black.

Y/n felt someone shaking him awake, it was a guard telling him something had happened. He got dressed quickly and went downstairs. Turns out his half-brother Aemond had his eye taken out.

Once he saw how Aemond was sitting in a chair getting stitches, he wanted to care but he just really could not feel any empathy for him. Once again, such events passed with flying colors as before he realized he was already back home in King’s Landing.

His sister, Rhaenyra has distanced herself and has decided to move to Dragonstone. Y/n stayed as in King’s Landing.

Time passed quickly, and soon six years went by and his sister was back to defend Luke’s claim to Driftmark. He avoided the whole thing that was happening in the throne room, he wandered off to the sept again to pray.

Y/n did not know how much time had passed, but Alicent, his step mother, had come to see him in the sept.

“I did not know you came into the sept, I always thought you and Rhaenyra worshipped the Valyrian gods.” Alicent said, walking in while her arms held each other.

“I do not know anything about the Valyrian gods of old, nor do I know anything of the Faith of the Seven. I have never even once looked at the Seven-pointed-star.” He continued to stay in the prayer position of being on his knees.

“Then why do you come into the sept, there is no reason for you to pray to.”

Y/n stood up, his eyes held a dark glint in them. “There is someone else I pray to.”

“Y/n.” He heard being called, looking over to see his sister at the arched doorway of the sept. “Nyra..” He called his sister’s nickname as she walked over.

“I knew I would find you here, though you have told me you don’t know the faith. We worship the Valyrian gods, you know that. It is our heritage.” Rhaenyra held his shoulders in a comforting manner.

“If Y/n is a prince of the Iron Throne, it is best for him to know the religion of Westeros after all.” Alicent spoke as she watched the sister and brother standing by each other.

Rhaenyra gave Alicent a harsh stare. “My brother is of Targaryen descent, from the times of Old Valyria. He should know the Valyrian gods.”

Silence ensued as the two women stared at each other. It was the prince that stood between that broke the silence.

“Then, I guess I failed as a Targaryen.”

Rhaenyra turned to look at him in confusion. “What do you mean brother?”

Y/n walked over to where the candles casted shadows onto the walls, standing in the said shadows as he clasped his hands together in a prayer position. “But now, I belong to him.” The shadows behind him begin to shift and turn into something else.

The figure the shadows shifted into was tall, the silhouette on the walls, soon three pairs of what seemed to be feathered wings sprouted from its back. The face soon had shadows cleared to show eyes and a mouth. The eyes of the shadow were stretched and the mouth was also very wide, the arch of the smile went from eye to eye.

The queen and the princess both could do nothing as they saw the shadow. The lighting soon returned to normal as Y/n turned to leave.

Over the next couple of weeks Alicent avoided her stepson like the plague, she could not get that image of them in the sept out of her mind. Everytime during meal time she prayed to the seven for their guidance and their blessing to set Y/n free of it. One night at supper, he heard her praying and leaned over to say something to her.

“You think the gods have been cruel to me?” He asked Alicent with a smile, the queen looked at him with confusion.

“Think again.” He drinks the wine from his goblet. “The gods have been cruel to you, not me.”

Y/n did not speak to her for the rest of the night, but Alicent on the other hand was even more scared than she had ever been in her life now. Is what he said true? Were the gods just cruel to her?

Y/n went on with his days as usual, until one day he saw someone new in court. A new man in court that somehow worked his way up in his father’s small council, when Y/n saw him for the first time he felt a sense of familiarity.

The male looked ethereal, like a true god that has fallen from the stars. He was tall, easily at least 6ft, blonde curly hair that shaped his face and fell around his neck and shoulders like a curtain, he had ocean blue eyes that seemed to pull him in.

The man looked too familiar to a certain someone from his dreams, the one whom he took the hand of years ago, the same hand that came from behind the tree, the one where the apple fell from. Y/n felt drawn to him at first glance, he saw the man during a small council meeting, when the council was done Y/n left fast.

Once he got back to his room, his face felt like it was burning. Deciding to get some fresh air he walked to the garden, but on the way he bumped into someone. Surprise, surprise it was the same lord that he was trying to get away from. Now that he thought about it, the lord in front of him looked too perfect, it was unnatural in a way, it was not human.

“My prince, I’m so sorry. I did not see you.” The unnamed lord held his hand out for the prince to take.

Deja Vu hit Y/n like a storm, the same hand, from the same dream, now he was sure something was wrong. He took the hand getting himself up to his feet again. “It is alright, I was just going for a walk.”

“Oh? May I join you?” The older one asked. “Of course.” Y/n could only accept the offer as he walked towards the garden again, this time with someone behind him.

Once they made it to the garden, Y/n wandered mindlessly. Until he decided to sit on one of the turf benches, the unnamed lord followed him and sat next to him.

“I have not introduced myself. I am Lord Gabriel of House Seraphthrone.” Gabriel said with a smile.

“House Seraphthrone? I have not heard of this house before? Where does it reside?” Y/n’s curiosity has now peaked.

“My house resides on the edge between the Riverlands where the Tullys are, and the north where the Starks live. But also somewhat close to where House Arryn resides.” Gabriel’s smile did not leave his face.

“Huh. I would like to see it sometime.”

They continued to talk as he escorted Y/n back to his room, but when they got there, Gabriel was hesitant to leave.

“What is it? Something wrong lord Gabriel?”

“Nothing. Just…this..” Gabriel’s hand went to the underside of Y/n’s chin, making him look at him.

“You really are beautiful..” Was all the lord said before he turned on his heels and left.

Y/n was left stunned with that, retreating back into his room and left to contemplate what in the seven hells he just went through. That was not the last time he would see Gabriel.

Throughout the next weeks and even months, Gabriel would continue to be in his company. At times, the lord would even bring the prince gifts and even new sets of robes and clothes for his wardrobe. Soon, the robes he wore of his own house were not only black and red, but also with the white robes from house Seraphthrone.

When the days went by, Y/n would continue to pray not knowing the god he prayed to was the one that hung around him all day. Slowly but surely, Y/n had begun to fall in love with the lord, and Gabriel knew this well.

Gabriel had deceived everyone within court, hell, even everyone in Westeros. No one said a single thing as his house had risen through many other houses, along with him working his way up in the King’s court. He deceived everyone’s weak minds, including the sweet prince that was so naive to pray to him when he whispered it into his ear for the first time.

But soon, he had to come clean about who he was. And when did, it was a reaction he did not expect. Y/n was practically overjoyed and hugged him tight.

“You’re the god I have been praying to? Then I guess I am one lucky dragon am I not?” Y/n said with a smile on his face.

On the inside, Gabriel now knew he had someone that could do his bidding no matter what, which means he could destroy House Targaryen from the inside. Little by little, Y/n did what was asked of him, slowly tearing the family more apart. It got to the point where he started to realize it, but what could he do now, nothing. He kind of liked it anyway.

When the blacks and the greens were very clearly divided, Y/n was on his sister’s side of course, but he also wished he was not part of this.

“Then you know what to do.” Was the only words Gabriel had said to him before leaving his chambers.

Taking heavy breaths as Y/n grabbed the dagger that sat on his nightstand, unsheathing the blade and gripping it within his hands. The dagger then went through his stomach, it was less pain than he thought it would be. And to mark the final blow, he slit his own throat.

Letting go of the weapon and as it dropped to the floor his eyes rolled to the back of his head, also falling to the floor as his blood pooled around him and under him. Taking one last breath as he closed his eyes. Gabriel then came into the room seeing the prince dead in his own blood, putting his cold hand on Y/n’s forehead as he muttered a spell. The ‘angel’ then disappeared into white mist, as the only thing left in the room was Y/n’s body that was slowly going cold and the weapon of his suicide.

Hours later, Rhaenyra went to check up on her brother only to let out a blood curdling scream. Guards and Daemon soon flocked to her side seeing the prince’s dead body, Daemon took his wife away as the guards took care of the body.

Daemon thought the greens had done it, well others say there was a traitor in the guards, very few said it was suicide. Deep down, Rhaenyra knew it was most likely suicide, no murderer would leave behind their weapon, and the dagger that they found next to him was one of the prince’s own.

The dance of the dragons would start, Rhaenyra would avenge both her son Lucerys and her brother. A son for a son, a brother for a brother.

Y/n’s spirit has been guided to a different realm, to a place that looked like heaven and paradise, but just slightly darker. This. Was Gabriel’s realm.

It allowed him to see what was going on below in Westeros, he watched the war rage on in rather amusement. He became a lover to the god he worshipped.

How sad. That everyone else had a bad ending, he had a good one.

God was indeed cruel, but not to him.

[lunatic-fandom-space]

You know what its past midnight Im gonna make a post critisising acotar despite never having the read the series, the only book of SJMs ive actually read was crescent city but I spend a lot of time in anti acotar circles bc its fun being a little hater sometimes and I think I know enough by now to atleast critise some of the themes. I definitely know more about this series than I should, like I know about that immortal horse whose horse wife tragically died in horse childbirth and then Im pretty sure he died of horse sadness. And yet, despite cari can read being pretty good at explaining magic shit, I still dont know what the hell syphons are or why illyrians have them or why they matter so you really never stop learning huh

Anyway, I wanted to talk about the misogyny within the universe of acotar because its really bad, both in the sense that its just annoying and insufferable to read about even second-hand and in the sense that its badly written. The thing that inspired this was this short piece of flashfiction by @feynessupremacy about an unnamed girl from the hewn city being married off and having a horrible time living in this endless cycle of misogynistic abuse that her mom is still in and that her dauggters will end up in, all powerless to do anything against this kind of systemic sexism. I thought it was good and made its intended point pretty well but it also made me once again realize how borderline comical this series portrayal of misogyny is

Like, okay, once again, I have not read these books myself but it very much seems like the sexism in this world just materialized in the second book, from the summaries Ive watched it straightup seems like it was just not there in the first book. I mean hell, the entire plot hinges on the fact that Tamlin was sending all these fae disguised as fucked up creatures out so that they would hopefully be killed by a woman so she could break the curse, which implies that women being hunters was pretty normal. (Also, dont come at me with any kind of "oh, it doesnt specify the gender of the person who needs to break the curse a guy couldve done it as well", sjm is too insufferably heteronormative to consider that)

So basically what Im saying is, from my perspective it very much seems like sjm put not only systemic misogyny but like, incredibly violent systemic misogyny to the point where women being brutalized is basically completely normal, in her fantasy series for the sake of making a man look good because hes a wittle sad :( about it sometimes which is honestly pretty funny to me

But it gets even funnier because it doesnt even seem like sexism is really a widespread thing ? Like, i have never seen anyone else directly address this but its all I can think about: in the Nightcourt, the misogyny and institutionalized violence against women is literally the worst it possibly can be with genital mutilation and everything and then in the rest of Prythian its just like, not there. There are plenty of women with political power, the queen of adriada comes to mind first, Im pretty sure I read something about a woman from the wintercourt who was in a similar position of power, its unclear to me what all these fuckin priestesses do because theres no focus on the religion at all much less the institution(s) behind that religion, but they have to have some kind of power if theyre anything like priests in our world (although tbh they seem more like nuns to me functionally just with a diffrent name), especially Ianthe who was like a high priestess and directly in charge of Feyre, who shouldve been the most powerful woman in the springcourt by virtue of being with the high lord, Amren and Mor seem to be well respected outside of the NightCourt, their only deity is the MOTHER. Sure, there arent any "official" High Ladies but if being a High Lord entails being chosen by the magic of the land or The Cauldron or The Mother or whatever other kind of magic bullshit and women just dont get to have it for some reason, is that really indicative of the broader culture being sexist, or is that just God, Who Canonically Exists being sexist? Idk about you, but Im leaning towards the latter option

Thats not even mentioning the mortal lands which seem to be ruled by queens exclusively at the time of the story taking place, or Hybern which had Amarantha and I think her sister as well be these high-ranking generals and it wasnt presented as anything unusual. Like, are you telling me that the kingdom whose only value is "we love slavery, we would like to have slavery back" is more progressive than the court of fuckin Feminist King Rhysand?? I Am Going To Turn Into The Joker

Anyway, I think thats all I have to say, please correct me if I got any of this information wrong I cannot stress enough that I have not read these books and dont plan on reading them anytime soon, atleast not in english because reading the term mate a 1000 times sounds like too much for me to bear, atleast in german theyll probably use a term like "Gefährte/in" which doesnt make me think of actual animals

[animarret]

Ranting about aroace exclusionists a bit: tl:dr my issue is not even the exclusion at this point, it's the lack of respect for ace and/or aro experiences and identity.

Saw one of those whole "should aces belong in queer spaces" debates making the rounds and it got me thinking about some exclu points like. Notably one I kept seeing was along the lines of not feeling safe in queer spaces with "straight" people and like. Okay. We have different ideas of queerness but I sympathize with the sentiment even if I disagree. But it got me thinking about how, if a space is mostly exclusionist towards aces and aros... why would we (aces and/or aros) be there anyway?

Like, I as a queer person (nonbinary and romantically ??? Something not straight) and also as an ace, I know I wouldn't be comfortable in a space like that, even if my more acceptably queer identities were fine there. Because in my experience exclus, kind or not, aren't understanding enough of ace experiences to where I could see that part of me being accepted enough to be open about it.

If any exclus read this for whatever reason: are you as normal about aces and aros as you think? Do you *actually listen* to us? Bc most I've encountered 1) don't have pretty basic definitions of identities on those spectrums correct (aromantic is never mentioned? Gray or demi labels? Hell half the time the definition of ace is wrong), and by extension downplay and dismiss ace and aro experiences. Not even just about like, people being bullied or the more oppressive experiences like that. But like, do you realize that being ace and/or aro can just affect everyday shit?? Shows and movies I like and why are affected by this. The way I practice my religion is affected by my aceness. It is, in fact, an important part of me that is reflected in everything I do. And AVEN is a website, guys. Cmon.

My point is, why would I waste time in a space where the people (no matter how many times you say "aces are valid!!! Just not lgbt") consistently show a complete lack of care or willingness to actually learn about or understand mine and other's experiences? Why would I feel comfortable or safe, even, being in a group that not only doesn't understand asexuality, but isn't willing to try (as friends, comrades, community, etc) to understand me, as an asexual person?

I'm not invading exclu lgbt spaces because I have better friends and allies than that. I have better places to be.

And if you're exclusionist and me asking/saying these things bothers you, maybe make a better effort to be allies to aces and aros. Because for all your talk about us and your valid posts I don't see you making an effort for us. Do better!! Prove me wrong!! Make me eat my angry words!! Want us out? Support ace and aro spaces then! Get our fucking words right! Listen to us!

[hero-israel]

Hey there! I hope its alright to say this as a gentile, but something I've noticed is that calling out antisemitism against Israelis in particular (but honestly. Its extending to all Jewish people now.) with 'Antisemitism' is getting incredibly ineffective. Its a word that's really really easy for us to just brush off since it carries little to no personal weight, has been painted in this conflict as a way to 'excuse colonialism/genocide', and just serves as another way to dehumanize and Other Jews. And there's also that thing with 'but x is Semetic too!'

Would recommend for the moment when you're arguing with antisemites directly to just call them a fucking racist.

It gets through to antisemitic leftists better as they'll otherwise never consider antisemitism equivalent to racism yet have some experience identifying internal racist biases and is applicable in pretty much all cases antisemitism is. And for Israelis especially. As one example, its kinda racist as hell to tell what is honestly a nation of refugees (And they ALWAYS ignore the 900,000 Mizrahi displaced at the same time as the Nakba) to go back to where they came from. And why ignore that the people they're advocating immediate land back for is making it very violently clear they will not accept their presence there in the slightest. They're as human and intelligent as anyone else. Yet they're treated like infantile but noble savages who don't know what they're doing. While this doesn't apply when talking about West Bank settlers, its pretty much never restricted to just them.

And I guess as a bonus, since Jewish people have been labeled '''White''' recently, the usual argument would be saying you can't be reverse racist. Good fucking luck using that against Jews lmao.

Anyway apologies if I overstepped with this! I have no idea if there's a connection to using Antisemitism that I'm missing, it was just getting really frustrating to see peoples eyes basically glaze over when it starts getting brought up

The racism of their hatred of Israel and nearly all Jews - and the racialized bent to their alt-histories and conspiracy theories - is undeniable. I've certainly used that word in this context many times. However, just as antisemitism isn't a magic, you-win word, neither is racism, as the type of leftist who would say something like this in the first place usually believes that there is no ethnic composition to Jews at all, that it is purely a religion - and as they are invariably culturally-Christian atheists, they think anyone who perceives a problem in how they are treated because of their religion can solve that problem by dropping the religion and becoming "normal," like themselves.

Yes, it can be effective, but don't expect too much from it. As the Facebook forward says, we can't assume there is any magic word that makes our enemies admit they were wrong, trying to catch Mitch McConnell in hypocrisy over SCOTUS seats is a fool's errand because he will never stop doing what he is doing.

Thank you for writing!

[genderkoolaid]

Hi I'm ND and I was wondering about your experiences with religious beliefs? I saw your post and it definitely resonated with the frustration I had engaging in spiritual communities because people are never Normal about it. I guess I'm also wondering how to navigate with discernment regarding spiritualism as someone with intrusive thoughts and other issues, if you feel like you're able to shed some light with your personal experiences of course. Have a good day!! ☀️

So I personally deal with intrusive thoughts, paranoia and delusions, while also being deeply religious & having mystic experience, which as you can imagine can be very stressful! its hard talking to people about that because its so easy for people to just go "oh you're psychotic so you can't be trusted on your experiences."

when it comes to psychotic stuff: for me the #1 thing i keep in mind when it comes to this is learning to not focus on whether a certain experience is "real," but rather if it is helpful. this is one of the things thats been repeated to me many times & its been very helpful keeping in mind. trying to prove whether or not something spiritual is "real" is an absolute mess for the sanest of people (mostly because i think the conflation of spirituality and science as like. opposing forces has done so much damage to how we think about it but anyways). but something solid you can ponder is how a certain belief or practice helps or hurts you. instead of "is x real or am i crazy," ask "how does x affect me? does it make me feel more equipped to deal with life? does it inspire me to connect with others and with myself? is it causing me mental or physical stress/harm? is it causing others harm?" these focus you more on things you can identify immediately. you can also ofc combine this with things like reality checks & secular ways of coping with delusions/paranoia/hallucinations.

as a general rule it's good to take your time with any sort of spiritual/mystical experience and think through it, what you felt, possible causes (spiritual and secular), and what you might do because of it. don't feel the need to rush into anything, it's not a sign of failure to be thorough and contemplative and open to many possible explanations.

additionally, we have this idea in our minds that if something has a spiritual origin it can't have a physical explanation, which is silly to me. even if there is a biochemical explanation for something, that doesn't mean its not a spiritual experience; we are fleshy creatures. there's no reason why our spirituality can't be fleshy too. if someone has hallucinations because of brainweirdness, that doesn't mean they can't ascribe spiritual meaning to them; and it also doesn't mean they have to ascribe spiritual meaning to every hallucination. something something why must our humanity be antithetical to god-or-what-have-you.

on intrusive thoughts: i don't have moral ocd, although i used to have religious compulsions. i don't really anymore because my beliefs/experiences have re-affirmed many times that god-or-what-have-you is not going to get mad at me for not doing x thing Good Enough, and the "does it hurt or help" rubric also helps me remember that the things that help me feel good and healthy are what is best for me spiritually. if you feel scared and stressed and self-hating constantly, that isn't going to make you a better devotee/follower/practitioner, its just going to tear you apart until you can't function.

i saw a post a while ago talking about prayer/meditation when you have ADHD & get distracted by thoughts easily, and i think its helpful for that + disruptive intrusive thoughts: instead of trying to stop thinking them, you can just incorporate them. if you can't stop thinking about a hyperfixation, you can meditate on what interests you and why. if intrusive thoughts won't leave, you can vent about that to god-or-what-have-you.

the thing about mainstream religion/spirituality is that it is by and large made by sane neurotypical people, for them. ND/mad people are either demonized or, sometimes mythologized, but we are always being viewed as outsiders. we haven't been allowed to have spiritual autonomy and create our own intepretations and practices that match our unique ways of thinking and perceiving the world. once you realize this you have to start pointing out where a practice fails you and then take it into your own hands- this is why i have found religion so helpful for me, because i have found/made interpretations that affirm me. if you follow a sacred text, you can reject literalism & that it perfectly reflects the actual words of the divine. you can reject the mainstream interpretations that cater to racism/sexism/homophobia/transphobia/etc. and find new ones or make your own. you can adapt rituals to your needs or make entirely new ones. and once again find other people who are also brainweird and spiritual and talk with them about what they do & believe. god is crazy too etc etc

[pryce0]

hey i love your writings for rdr2 🥺💓 and i was wondering if you can write about how gang members will react to middle eastern gn! Reader How would they react to the reader's differences in culture, religion, language, and clothing its okay if you dont want to (btw i am middle eastern arab myslef😭)

The Gang Reacting To MiddleEastern!GN!Reader’s Culture (Part 1)

gif by; @jungle

a/n; ITS NO PROBLEM AND THANK YOU!! I know there are quite a bit of different cultures in the middle east, so i decided to be vague and not directly focus on a specific one if that’s okay. plus, i am not personally in any culture and i would absolutely hate to not do y’all some justice. tysm for requesting <3 I’m new to this type of request, so i hope the next part i make is better!!

included members; arthur, john, charles, sadie. (Next part will include some of the others!)

masterlist: here

—————————————

Arthur Morgan

To be honest, this man has no social awareness 60% of the time so at first, he would stare and be very confused, especially if you just met. He has seen your clothing type before, but very scarcely. When you get closer to him, that’s when he feels okay to ask questions. You would think he’s hesitant, but no. This man is blunt and sometimes, down right rude (although he doesn’t mean to be).

After you make sure he knows certain ways he phrases questions are really rude, he goes quiet with a soft “sorry”. He presses his lips together and he begins to rephrase his questions. To your surprise, he’s actually really curious about everything. The reason why you dress the way you do, he’s curious about the different foods you constantly ramble about, etc.

Arthur gets really deep into the religion aspect. He personally isn’t faithful to any religion as life hasn’t been too kind to him. He quietly listens to you on how culture is often tied to religion, and how different the cultural accustoms are in the States vs the ones you grew up with. It silently explains why you react the way you do to certain things, things in which he’s completely used to being normal.

Your culture is realty interesting to him, though. Arthur takes the time to learn a lot; although, he can’t promise he will retain all of the information.

Arthur is confused and blinking at you when you speak your language. “You said what now?”

He isn’t sure what you’re saying unless you translate, and you find it funny when his deep and thick accent makes it difficult for him to correctly form the words in his mouth. Arthur huffs in embarrassment, but he never stops trying; even when you poke fun at him.

Overall, Arthur is curious but ignorant about it with his questions. You try to be patient, but you also don’t let him walk over you and your culture (he doesn’t mean it, he loves you).

John Marston

Similar to Arthur, he’s blunt and a bit rude about it, but I see him being more hesitant.

John takes longer to approach you as he stares for a while. You also have to teach him how to be nice about it and he’s more stubborn, but he quietly does as you ask. After all, you don’t have to teach him anything.

John gets really interested in your clothing and the significance of it within your culture. Sure, he’s seen it before, but not up close. Being able to touch the fabric, look at the designs and watch the way it was meant to be put on and worn? He loves it, even if he doesn’t say it verbally. You can tell he’s fascinated and you indulge for him.

He picks up whenever someone does something that is outside of your cultural accustoms pretty quickly; he learned how to read you, your expressions, your body language. He almost picks up the same bewildered look you do, which when you notice, you think is adorable.

He isn’t too interested in the religion aspect, although he’ll listen anyway. Your talk of different food definitely captures his attention; food is food and he sounds very interested in trying it if he ever gets his hands on it.

John has a similar reaction to you speaking your language, although he just goes “Huh?”

You will not get this man to pronounce it, his face showing embarrassment after the first time. “I’m not cut out for that.”

He tries to understand and it takes a while for him to do so; if someone does something or says something that offends your religion and directly effects you, you best bet he’s on his way to give them a piece of his mind. Cough cough…… Micah.

Charles Smith

Charles is one of the most understanding of your difference in culture, religion and food.

Charles is incredibly interested in every aspect of your culture; from the food, the religion, everything. He likes to compare his own culture he tries to follow and compare it to yours. The differences amaze him and how different people can be.

He actually retains a lot of information about your culture, religion, etc. Charles has a harder job attempting to speak your language, but he eventually gets to the point where he can understand it when you speak it and he can read it, but he has a difficult time with pronunciation. He gets the hang of it eventually, but his eyes search yours for approval.

Charles gets his hands on the ingredients needed for some of the dishes and begs you—with his eyes—to make some for him. You end up doing it and his eyes light up like he saw heaven. Charles absolutely devours every dish and you’ve never seen this man just.. eat so much.

Sadie Adler

She raises her eyebrows at you the first time, immediately intrigued. The others may have seen your culture before, but she has not, and she has questions. Unlike many of the men, she takes her time to phrase her words. Sadie gets borderline embarrassed when some of your answers are blatantly obvious, her loud talking reverting to mumbling.

Sadie does not understand your language at all, even if you help her pronounce it correctly. “Oh, whatever..” She can understand you vaguely, and she did try.

She practices your language in the meantime.

Sadie isn’t too keen on trying the food, but she tries it for you and she loves it!

She isn’t really interested in your religion, but she’ll listen to your rambles about it. Sadie lets you know that she won’t be annoyed by hearing it.

Sadie has a lot of questions for you and doesn’t even remember all of the answers, but she loves hearing you talk.

Sadie gets angry whenever someone disrespects any part of your culture or you, even if it was by accident. She knows it’s important to you, and that’s important to her.

[ggomos-maribat]

Soul-Stitching: The Heir and the Guardian

Masterlist

Chapter 5: death and revival | AO3

CW: Human experimentation, mentions of religion, cult-like behavior, child abuse, childhood trauma, mentions of death, grief, killing, blood, violence, injury

“Adrien, why are you screaming—oh.” A girl steps up to the top floor, and her face instantly morphs into disgust when she sees him. Her hand reaches up to her choker necklace. “It’s him.” 

“Who?” The boy, Adrien, turns to her wide-eyed after stepping over the spilled milk and cereal.

“Damian al Ghul. Or should we address you as Wayne?” 

Damian takes a tentative step back, looking down on himself to realize that he rushed out of Gotham without a mask on. But his head snaps up when it dawns on him that the girl called him ‘al Ghul’, which means they must have heard it from Marie. 

Which means she hasn't forgotten. 

“ That Damian?” Adrien puts a hand over his mouth. “Wait what's he doing here anyway?” 

“I don't know, but it might have something to do with that thing she's telling us.” 

Before Damian can try to comprehend what that meant, another figure emerges from the shadows. 

Marie. Marinette. 

What is she doing here? Damian is frozen with shock. 

Marie seems surprised by his presence as well, but she quickly schools her expression and stands behind her two friends.

“Should we kick him out, M'lady?” Adrien frowns. 

She sighs. “No. I'll talk to him. Kagami, please help Adri clean up the spill. I'll pass a message to Fei that we have a guest.” 

---

Damian follows her quietly down a winding flight of stairs, with only a bit of the moonlight guiding them. His eyes end up on her hand, which braces against the wall—there are crimson marks around her wrist.  When she doesn't utter another word, he breaks the silence himself instead, “What are you doing here?” 

She halts and turns back to him, making him stumble back. Her eyes shimmer more luminously in the dark. “I escaped for a while. There's a decoy up in the Watchtower.” 

That explains one of the questions he had. She can escape on her own after all. Of course, he's not telling the others this. She must have been shaken up after the memory projection. 

They reach a landing that extends into a carpeted hallway. If the place isn't so dark or badly damaged, the temple's design can rival that of the League. She leads him to a set of double doors and into her bedroom. 

“What are you doing here?” asks Marinette. 

“I—I saw what they did . . . and um, the Order . . .” He trails off, hoping that she can fill in the blanks. 

She sits down and beckons him over. Normally, he wouldn't blindly follow anyone, even if he has known her in his childhood. But something about the temple makes him feel safe. It's not enticing , but rather comforting. It's like his entire being knows there's no danger around him. 

“If you're looking for the Order of the Guardians, I killed them,” she says plainly. 

“What?” 

“I guess I should start from the beginning huh?” 

---

The Waynes decide to give Damian his space and instead focus on investigating the case. Mainly, it's Barbara immersing herself into research, with Tim helping in the sidelines. Five hours later, she calls everyone to the cave. 

“Where's the old man?” Jason strolls in, tugging off his helmet. 

Dick pulls his lips into a thin line. “Watchtower still. I think the JL is investigating on their own too.” 

“Well, he has to be here, ‘cause this is all fucked up.” Jason leans against the railing as the rest of the family gathers around Barbara. 

“What do you mean? You're caught up in this case too?” Tim is about to lift his cup to his lips but Cass is quick to snatch it away from him. 

“I asked Jay to look into it too,” Barbara explains calmly. Her tiredness is evident in her eyes, but it's coupled with an air of rage. “Marinette's past is more complicated than we think.” 

“There is a small village in Tibet inherently blessed by the gods. The records date to several hundred years ago,” she begins. “Every two decades or so, a child called the ‘Guardian’ is born in that village. They possess every power we know that is manifested through the miraculi.” 

She pulls up several pictures: a few photos of children, but most are paintings. A striking feature appears as a pattern. “The Guardian always has these blue eyes. They're not from any specific family; the children appear randomly from different lineages. And there can only be one of them at a time. If the previous Guardian dies, a new one is reborn.” 

---

“My eyes . . .” 

“They weren't as blue,” Damian breathes out. 

Marinette touches the corner of her eyes, chuckling humorlessly. “Yeah, they weren't. This is where the Order of the Guardians come in. They operate under the guise of a religious group who worship the Guardian and the gods so that tragedy doesn't befall the village. Every time a new Guardian turns four, they fetch the child from the village.” 

---

“In reality, they're just a sick disgusting cult of old men,” Jason spits out. “People who know about the miraculi believe that they came from a mage that put the power of the kwamis into the magic jewel. That's bull. The Guardian is the source of that power.” 

Stephanie draws in a shaky breath. “So . . . so when they were drawing blood . . .” 

“It's some kind of ritual,” Barbara continues. The tension in the air multiplies. “With magic, the blood mixed with an accessory creates a miraculous.” 

“But each miraculous is only one of its kind,” Dick points out. “Unless there are duplicates?” 

“The ritual doesn't work all the time, that's why they have to—to experiment which methods will work to combine the jewel with the power.” 

---

Damian swallows a lump in his throat as Marinette speaks monotonously about the Order. “The monks weren't strategizers so they usually tried every variation of the ritual they could think of. For instance, to extract the power of Emotion—the Peacock—should they make the Guardian cry? Should they anger the child or subject them into an assortment of emotions? What about the power of Destruction? Will breaking every bone in their body work?” 

He hasn't noticed how hard he's clutching the sheets. 

“Multiply that with the variations in the jewels. Which power will work with earrings? A necklace? That's one vial of blood for each variation.” Marinette rubs her arm. “Over the course of seventy years, they ran their experiments and created all the miraculi you know that showed up in Paris.”

“That's why they're unique,” Damian mumbles. 

“Not entirely. Some of the ‘failed’ jewels worked, only they don't possess even half of the Guardian's power. They are like . . . disposable miraculi. Their power can only be used once and it doesn't even transform the user. The Order produced hundreds of these—they call them miraculous-adjacents.” 

How many children did they sacrifice? He wishes he can revive the Order just to subject them to torture himself. 

“How did you end up in . . .?”

---

“How does Marinette fit into all of this?” Dick asks. 

“She's a Guardian, isn't she?” Tim guesses. 

“It's not as straightforward as that.” Barbara adjusts her glasses, opening another file: a picture of a dark-haired girl with bright blue eyes. 

Yet it's not Marinette. 

“Like you saw in the memory projection, Marinette came from the League of Assassins. There's a League base not too far from the temple; it's where she and Damian escaped from. When she died, I'm guessing they found her body. This girl was the Guardian at that time.” 

---

“She didn't have a name. Guardians usually weren't given one. She fell into a coma because of their experiments,” Marinette leans back. 

“Did they not kill her?” 

“They can't draw any more blood or directly kill her, because they risk waiting for years until a new Guardian is born. I don't know the exact rebirth cycle—the life expectancies of Guardians are already low but that girl was too young to die. Bottomline is, they refused to kill her but they couldn't wake her up either.” Marinette waves her hands around. “Lucky for them I guess, they found me.” 

Dread settles on Damian's chest. “But you . . .” 

“Were dead? Yes, but I had the body strong enough to withstand the Guardian's power. They performed one important ritual. I'm not sure exactly how they did it, because I was—obviously–busy being dead, but they joined the two of us somehow. Her soul, my body. When I woke up, everything was healed–my leg, the wound from the knife, my scars. I had memories that weren't my own but at the same time, I knew I lived through them. They called me a vessel.” 

He can only imagine the confusion, the stress taking a toll on her that time. 

“You—you don't have to tell me if it's too much,” Damian stammers. 

“What? No, it's okay. I owe you this much.” She seems surprised at his interjection. “I've told this story a few times already.” 

He gives a nod and she continues, “Even if I was healed, I was still weak from the cold and hunger. I stayed quiet the whole time, gathered as much information as I could, and let them get blood from me. One day, I saw an opening.” 

She pauses. 

“I killed them.”

She waits. Perhaps for judgment from him? 

“I killed them all, Master. I had all the powers at my disposal anyway. I knew I was an assassin first before a Guardian, so I made sure I got rid of all of them. I made this temple into what it is today.” 

Damian remembers seeing the powers of Destruction manifested through the ring in the videos of the akuma attacks. She must wield a greater degree of power than that. He moves closer to her and takes her hands into his, telling her slowly, “I would've done the same.” 

“Master–” 

“Do not call me that,” he cuts in. “You cannot call me that after what I've done to you.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It's my fault you died.” Damian starts to shake. “I treated you terribly even when you protected me. I was too arrogant to see that you were in pain—” 

“What are you talking about?” Marinette frowns, this time covering his hands with hers. “You never treated me badly. You were the reason I remained in the League.” 

“I . . .” 

She runs her fingers over his knuckles. “You protected me even if I was weak. You made sure I ate and slept. You would protect me in fights just as I tried to protect you.” 

---

“Climb on my back.” Damian crouches in front of the girl. He has noticed her labored breaths since they started walking through the snow. 

“Master, I can't possibly—” 

“It's faster this way. They made you work too hard, didn't they?” he hisses. “I will tell Mother this time. You have no other business in the bases except to serve me.” 

Marie reluctantly goes on his back, locking her arms around his neck and burying his face on his shoulder. His breath hitches when he realizes how light she has become. 

---

“Why are you sitting over there?” 

She blinks at him. “To guard the entrance, Master. You can go ahead and sleep.” 

“No. Stay here by the fire.” 

“But what if the enemies—” 

Damian sighs and digs into the backpack to retrieve the heat packs. He tosses two to her and tells her to wake him up at midnight so they can switch. But when he wakes up, he finds that it is dawn and Marie has dozed off by the cave opening, shivering. 

“Tt. Foolish girl.” He rushes to wrap her up in a blanket before carrying her into the sleeping bag and taking her place. 

---

“Marie!” Overcome with panic, he kills the assassin quickly and tosses him over the edge of the cliff. He tries to look for the backpack but then she grabs him by the sleeve. 

“I'm sorry, Master . . . it fell when I was . . .” she sniffs. 

“Ssh, none of that.” His heart is racing as he tries to look for a makeshift bandage and splint. 

“Please don't worry about me. We have to go—” 

“I will worry. What were you thinking? Why didn't you wake me?” He hoists her up again, taking care not to move her injured foot. 

---

“Master—I mean Damian. ” Marinette reaches up to cup his cheek. “Have you forgotten?” 

A sob comes out of him. It all starts coming back—his dreams have overshadowed his memories, painting him as the ruthless child who was indifferent to Marie. He was too overridden by guilt to remember correctly. He starts to cry while inwardly scolding himself for forgetting everything. 

She doesn't say a word but lends her shoulder, holding him close. Damian realizes it has never felt this liberating to cry. 

“I never blamed you for anything,” she whispers. “I did it to myself.” 

“I’m sorry—” 

“It's not your fault.” Her voice is close to his ear. “It's okay. I'm okay now.” 

---

“There's no record of what happened to Marinette after she was taken by the Order,” says Jason, “But after a year or so, she was found walking into the village alone. There was no blood on her or anything but she didn't speak at all. The monks weren't seen again after that and the temple was abandoned. Protective services picked her up months later.” 

“This is all just a theory, but she could have gained the powers of the Guardian.” Barbara rubs her head. “Must be why Constantine was so alarmed.” 

“So the Hawkmoth thing . . . actually checks out?” Stephanie says. 

Jason scoffs in reply. “No, it's the opposite of that. If she had the powers of the miraculi at her disposal, why the hell would she terrorize a city?” 

“Jason and I found another reason for the evidence against her,” Barbara explains. “Marinette is the Guardian in the sense of her powers, but also in the sense of being the keeper of the magical jewels.” 

“Marinette is—” 

---

“I'm Ladybug, by the way.” 

Damian's eyes widen while he tries to wipe the last of his tears. “Why didn't you say that in court?” 

“We had a plan, don't worry.” She smiles a little. “It's also dangerous to reveal my identity that easily. I have more duties to fulfill as Guardian.” 

“Duties?” 

←Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Did I just make Marinette Gojo Satoru? Yes. Yes I did. Taglist: @noisydreamlandkoala

[nc-vb]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧

note -> pls accept this little Scaramouche/gn!reader blurb from last year as an apology for being bad at updating? it was part of the original version of Heartstrings, but the plot has since changed anyway, so... ya.

warnings -> none; takes place after the delusion factory chapter in Inazuma; reader is a Fatui executive under Scaramouche with a vision that can heal...

words -> 1.9k

“You…” Your hands having risen instinctively at his appearance, you swallow thickly awhile trying to come up with a not-so-suspicious greeting. “Lord Scaramouche, sir, I-I… What are you doing here, sir?”

Arms crossed, chin raised, and eyebrow cocked, “I’ll have you answer that very same question for me. What business did you have at the Grand Narukami Shrine after dealing with the Traveler?”

“Er… being in Inazuma has left me feeling more spiritually inclined than normal, sir, so… I-I’ve decided to take up on religion,” you mumble flatly, immediately inwardly cursing at yourself for spouting such a shitty lie.

“Funny. Try again.” You sigh at him.

“I’d heard once… that you had ties here in Inazuma,” you start, your tone quieter than usual. “Rather than bother you with my questions, I… initially came here to check on the Traveler’s condition, but then… I ended up… speaking with Guuji Yae, but…”

Scaramouche shuffles his hands to his hips, looking almost pleased by the idea of you being turned away. “Oh, the fox woman wouldn’t tell you?”

You shake your head. “Not exactly. When we started speaking of… other things, I decided I’d rather chance waiting for you to want to answer me, yourself, if I ever asked them. If you ever wanted to answer me.”

Scaramouche’s hard gaze seems to linger on you from beneath his hat, something that leaves you warm, cagey, and a little concerned that just maybe, he doesn’t believe your ignorance to be false, after all.

“I simply… was worried about you,” you add.

“Worried,” he parrots, sounding almost offended. “Why would I need you to worry about me?”

“If you’re suddenly seeing things as if I’m making you out as weak or as looking down on you, that’s not what’s happening here, sir.” Past him, you look to the cliffs you knew would eventually bring you to a lesser shrine but a moment after feeling the sharp crawl of electricity creep up your back. “Could we walk and talk, sir? The Electro energy the mountain channels is starting to fry the hair off my arms…”

“… fine.”

And so, you lead the way, trapped between the quiet of a promised conversation and your nerves, unable to speak and walk at the same time. It’s a surprise to you, just how patient the Balladeer is being. Perhaps in your constant busyness, with your typically need to leave your Harbinger stress-free from these menial duties, you’ve never truly noticed just how differently the man walking beside you treats you. How much more patience he has for you versus the rest of his underlings. It didn’t even have to do with you being his second-in-command, because if it were anybody else in your position, this conversation might not have gone so non-aggressively. At the very least, what’s mutual knowledge between the two of you is that your relationship has always been one of respect, and not one drowned for fear of him like the others have so easily admitted to.

Finally, having descended the rest of the mountain, now far away from the crackling and sizzling of its natural Electro pond, you lead the Balladeer to the front of the abandoned shrine, to sit at its steps and take a large breath. Scaramouche remains standing, arms at his sides, eyebrows now pinched.

“S-So… I just… recalled,” you clear your throat, eyes flitting up to meet his briefly before flying back down into your lap, “that you had a look on your face when the Tsaritsa gave the order to have us come out to Inazuma. I remember you once saying that you were from here, and I was only wanting to be prepared to help you in any way I could. And then, the next look on your face when you were given the Gnosis by Guuji Yae…”

“And so, your first choice of preparation was to go and gather intel on me from that fox envoy?” he queries.

“I-I suppose,” you murmur. “I didn’t want to overstep or… um…”

“Or what?”

“… or make you sad.” You finally look up at him, not in sudden confidence, but of the pure desire to simply look at him. As per usual, his impassiveness shines clear as day in the night air, illuminated by the lanterns glowing along the shrine’s engawa. “Lord Scaramouche, Lady Guuji Yae did not tell me of your history by my own request. Instead, she helped me reach a certain point of clarity of myself regarding you… That the reason I sought her out to speak about you was more b… because…”

“You’re burning the midnight oil, here, ______.”

You huff at him. “It’s because I’ve grown extremely fond of you,” you finally blurt. “Romantically, if that wasn’t clear. I-In other words, I believe I’ve fallen in love with you, Lord Scaramouche.”

… there is a moment of silence that leaves your heart aching. At the very least, you’d expected a retort, or a comment of disapproval for bothering him with something that might’ve seemed so trivial to a man like him, but in his wordlessness, he simply stands before you, eyes trained hard in your direction.

Throwing his foot up against one of the steps to your left, you find yourself suddenly trapped between him and the railing, the air in your chest swirling. And everything happens all too quickly – his hand finding the crown of your head to tilt it toward him; his gaze rising and falling between your widened eyes and your parted lips; his subtlety in wetting his own dried lips, tongue darting carefully past his teeth to soften them, before leaning into you and pressing them firmly against yours.

You can’t control the noise that escapes you, nor your instinct to brace yourself against your surroundings — the porch, the step beneath you, the railing, his chest — in your attempt at registering the Sixth Harbinger’s actions.

He is unmoving in them, indigo eyes half-lidded as he studies your face, your reaction to him. When he just barely moves his mouth upwards, his lower lip slotting between the two of yours, and carefully moves his hand to fall to your nape, he catches your flinch of surprise, feels your fingers tighten around the sleeves of his shirt. In pulling away, he hears your small noise of disappointment, and takes in the heat resting upon the apples of your cheeks.

“L-Lord Scaramouche,” you pant, and from the corner of your mouth, you lick away the bit of saliva that remained. Was it yours? His? He’s not sure he cares.

“What?” he says, tone accosting. “Wasn’t that the definition of the “love” that you desired from me? You and I have worked together for long enough to know that that is an undeniable impossibility, and yet you still decided that the best course of action to take would be a confession?”

“I-It’s not so simple like that!” you argue, and you push his leg off the step and stand up, now an extra foot or so taller than the man. “A confession – my confession to you – is not something so fleeting; it’s not some passing emotion I’ve suddenly started feeling because I spoke to Guuji Yae. This is something I know I’ve felt since the first days I began working for you, something I’ve tried to ignore for both our sakes, and for the longest time, it worked. I managed to be good at keeping our relationship professional.

“And you’re right— we have worked together long enough that I could feel safe in telling you my truth. All I could hope for was maybe some understanding, and in a long shot, maybe a bit of reciprocation. Either way, I’d at least have something off of my chest.” You glare down at the man, fingers twitching— “A-And just so you know, I’m going to be kissing you again after that, because speaking frankly, sir, you… are an awful kisser!” – before reaching for his shirt with them and tugging him up and toward you.

He jolts, thrown off by the height difference the staircase offered and by your sudden bravado, gripping at either railing of the shrine’s staircase. Your lips, as warm as the heat that seemed to radiate from you, as soft as he’d experienced them to be the first time he’d touched them, press against his. You can only dare in closing your eyes that he wouldn’t retaliate, but you still half-expect him to push you away and scold you, something said in his flavour of retaliation and ridicule. But his hands give rise to where your hands stretch out the material of his shirt, skinny fingers wrapping tightly around the bones of your wrists to spin you off the higher step and onto equal ground.

Pulling away from you, a smirk crawls onto his visage. “And who gave you permission to speak frankly in the first place?” he asks. You can’t tell if his tone is serious and taunting or humoured and teasing. You swallow when he leans further into you, your heart racing, his lips pausing just before your ear. “Insulting your superior officer,” he whispers to you, a dry chuckle escaping him a second later when he returns to face you. “That’ll get you places.”

Taunting and teasing, you decide shakily.

To your surprise, the Balladeer leans into you once more, his glistening, parted lips slotting between yours, hands slowly moving to take hold of your cheeks in his attempt at keeping you close. It’s sloppy, teeth clacking together at times, and a little wet, but your heart threatens to burst with joy and relief at his effort, his reciprocation being something you wouldn’t have expected him to put any into.

A hand of your own raises to take the smooth curve of his jawline into your palm. He mumbles against your murmurs, and grunts at the wet, wriggling sensation invading his mouth. Their tongue? he realizes, doing poorly to mask his shock at how pleasant he finds the feeling to be. Unpredictable as per his usual routine, he returns the gesture, his own joining with yours to swirl and dance in the space between you. The softest of moans escapes him, and he tears away from you, embarrassed and breathing sharply, his pale cheeks tinted with the softest of rouge and lips tainted by your mixture of saliva.

Your laughter is faint as you lick away the liquid gathered along your own.

“So…” Scaramouche glances at you from beneath his newly summoned hat, barely having time to recover when you’ve shot him a look unfamiliar to him—it’s startling, how warm it makes him feel; how unfocused his mind is when your gazes lock; how impossible he finds it to begin stringing words into a sentence after what he’d engaged in – dazed, your eyelids flutter on incident at him, and in that starstruck, awestruck daze, “Did any of that get me anywhere with you?”

— until these words exit your mouth, that is. Your flippant attitude was not something he’d accounted for in the aftermath, and even worse, you’d caught him in a moment of vulnerability and weakness and decided to deliver them before he could collect himself.

“Something like that,” he says, tone breathy with exasperation, his eyes having rapidly widened at you. You chuckle nervously in response, daring to reach forward and adjust his slightly tilted kasa. He turns on the spot when you’re finished, clearing his throat, and beginning the rest of your descent down from the base of Mount Yougou. “Come along, then. We’ve got work to do.”

© nc-vb/niicevibe 2022-2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 8🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 8 "Fracas at the Frostyfaire Folk Festival"

Timestamp: 00:06:23

Video Length: 4min. & 43sec.

The Disadvantages of Stress!!!

Brennan: "I'd like to know just mechanically, for people watching, where that stress actually ended up for everybody."

Zac: "Right."

Siobhan: "I was gonna game it, but then Emily made me feel bad about it, so-"

Emily: "No, I didn't! I didn't say anything to you about it!"

Siobhan: "No, you were like, 'I'm gonna take real things,' and then I was like, 'Well, I can't take disadvantage in-'"

Emily: "Okay, so it was my existence."

Brennan: "It was merely Emily's example, committing to the system."

Siobhan: "Yes, Emily did such a good job that I felt like I had to step up my game and take things that actually affected me."

Emily: "Well, I took it- 'cause you said if we weren't proficient, I had one, so you said if we weren't proficient, we had to take two, so I wanted to take Insight. In the 'Adventuring Party', I said I think I'm in a place where I'm not listening to my gut. All the stress is making me very indecisive. So that was Insight, and then I think also, this paladin curiosity, there's more pressure on it, and it's not coming to me as naturally as normal, so I think Religion is gonna be the other disadvantage."

Brennan: "Love it."

Emily: "I've never wanted to be good at something before. I've just accidentally been good at it. So that's why. There's stress with it now."

Brennan: "It's the intermediate slump where you go from beginner's luck into actually learning technique and having to get good at something."

Emily: "'Cause there's stakes. I need to do this for Kristen."

Brennan: "Zac, where's Gorgug's stress going?"

Zac: "So I have three stress tokens, meaning... I think I'm gonna do one in Initiative rolls."

Emily: "Oh."

Zac: "'Cause I'm already... I never roll good on Initiative anyway. I feel like that's fine. And then I'm gonna do the lobster bisque."

Siobhan: "You get a salad with that."

Zac: "Would you guys have some?"

Siobhan: "Yeah."

Lou: "I'd have a nibble."

Siobhan: "Yeah, I'd share a lobster bisque with you any day, Zac."

Zac: "Great, great. I'll get some straws. Disadvantage on two skills, so I think I might also do Insight."

Brennan: "Hell yeah, hell yeah."

Zac: "Go back to Gorgug's roots of just never-"

Brennan: "Not ever being good."

Emily: "Wow."

Lou: "Regressing."

Zac: "And then disadvantage in Deception."

Brennan: "Okay. So Gorgug, you're taking Initiative. Do you have proficiency in either Deception or Insight?"

Zac: "Oh, it has to be something I have-"

Brennan: "It's either got to be a skill you're proficient in, or if you're picking skills you're not proficient in, you gotta pick two."

Zac: "I'm not proficient in either of those."

Brennan: "You've got to take both. That's one."

Zac: "Okay, then disadvantage probably on Charisma saving throws."

Brennan: "Hell yeah."

Emily: "Ooh."

Brennan: "That lack of initiative, you are a distracted, stressed kid."

Zac: "What? Okay."

Brennan: "Hell yeah. What? Adaine."

Siobhan: "I'm also gonna do Initiative, 'cause I feel like Adaine's just in that, like, *gasps* 'Huh? What?' Very much in her own head."

Brennan: "Yes."

Siobhan: "And then I'm also gonna do two skills that I'm not proficient in. I'm gonna do Intimidation and Persuasion, 'cause I just feel like she's not socially on her game right now."

Brennan: "It's just- If I want to impress people, I'm gonna summon a bunch of mephits. I'm not gonna talk to anybody."

Siobhan: "I just can't talk to anybody right now."

Brennan: "Perfect. Fabian?"

Lou: "I'm gonna take disadvantage on all my tool proficiencies. There's just a bunch of half done calligraphy and glassblowing."

Brennan: "Your glassblowing!"

Lou: "My shop is a ****ing mess right now. I need to clean out the kiln. Just haven't gotten around to it."

Brennan's LAUGHTER! 😭✋

Siobhan: "This guy has so many unfinished hobbies."

Lou: "Several rooms in my house just haven't been touched. So I'll take disadvantage on those. I'll take disadvantage in History and Investigation, and then I will take disadvantage in Perception."

Brennan: "Ooh, one of your actual proficiencies."

Lou: "Yes."

Brennan: "Incredible. Kristen?"

Ally: "Disadvantage on Initiative. Disadvantage on Wisdom saving throws. Disadvantage on Medicine."

Brennan: "Hell yeah. Boom, meaty choices."

Ally: "She's not helpful for the party at all. She has no magic, disadvantage on Medicine."

Lou: "And you can't cast spells."

Ally: "Why even have a cleric?"

Zac: "****."

Brennan: "Hell yeah."

Siobhan: "'Cause you're the coolest girl in school!"

Lou: "Right? Right?"

Emily: "That's true! Who needs a cleric when you have a president?"

Lou: "Exactly."

Ally: "You're right!"

Lou: "Your class is 'President.'"

Brennan: "We're just gonna go to SW5E and steal the scholar class again and just make you a politician."

Ally: "Please, please!"

Brennan: "Please, please. And Riz?"

Murph: "I took disadvantage in four skills. I took disadvantage in Perception, because I feel like Riz is still good at Investigation and everything, but he's really in his head, so he's probably not noticing things around him. Survival, not taking good care of himself. Athletics, he was already not athletic, but he's even less so, and then Deception, 'cause I don't think he could pull off lying right now while he's so high strung."

Brennan: "So you've picked four of your non-proficient skills that are all disadvantage now."

Murph: "Yes."

Brennan: "Meaty, meaty choices across the board."

●・○・●・○・ ●・○・●・○・ ●・○・●・○

A list of the stress disadvantages on the characters for my own safe-keeping! 😂:

1. Fig: Insight, and Religion

2. Gorgug: Initiative, Insight, Deception, and Charisma Saving Throws

3. Adaine: Initiative, Intimidation, and Persuasion

4. Fabian: Tool Proficiencies, History, Investigation, and Perception

5. Kristen: Initiative, Medicine, and Wisdom Saving Throws

6. Riz: Perception, Survival, Athletics, and Deception