#faith is not about believing if there's a god or not it's about believing that love without reward is valuable

[gojoest]

ENTANGLED ━━━ chapter one

pairing: gojo satoru x zenin f! reader

series masterlist┊next chapter

synopsis: you — the daughter of zenin naobito (the head of the zenin clan), born with no cursed energy and therefore deemed to be the disgrace of the clan — have only one dream. to escape from your own blood that’s rejected you ever since birth, even if it means you have to dirty your hands in the process. when simply running away is not an option, for they would indubitably find you and drag you back for worse, you find your getaway in the arms of an enemy clan  

warnings: MDNI, canon divergent, non-linear narrative (a lot of jumping back and forth between past & present, it’s indicated accordingly), female reader, she/her pronouns, reader is a zenin born without cursed energy, discrimination, abuse and bullying during childhood (she gets the toji treatment :/), brief mention of direct maternal death (regarding reader’s mother), childhood friends that fall out but come together, marriage in convenience (but with a twist), eloping, pining, kind of slow burn ngl, ijichi, shoko, geto, naoya + naobito cameo, mentions of food and alcohol, terms of endearment (calls you miss zenin, bride-o-mine, then mrs gojo later on + sweetheart <- so do you but with a lot of sarcasm behind it), sexual tension, male masturbation, although it’s left vague there’s some elements of incestuous behaviors on naoya’s end, wc: 9.3k

chapter one guideline & timeline:

I. The News — takes place in the present time.

II. The Proposal — two weeks prior to The News.

III. Sealing The Deal — two days after The News.

IV. The Past — flashback to the past, mainly from reader’s pov. this part is to be continued in chapter two, from satoru’s pov.

V. The First Night — after Sealing The Deal.

VI. Bad Faith — the day after The First Night.

The News 

Nobody could ever predict what Gojo Satoru was up to, except for one specific behavioral aspect of his — those who’ve spent a fair amount of time around him could easily figure that whatever it was on that man’s mind, it was, without any doubt, unorthodox and crazy. 

Yet every now and then, Gojo Satoru managed to outdo himself and exceed even their wildest expectations. This time — by dropping a bomb nobody saw coming, especially not from him.  

“Gojo-san, there’s an upcoming mission assigned to your students, and you are to supervise them throughout it”, Ijichi hands a document regarding the occasion, but his arms hang in the air as the blindfolded man is absorbed in a rather peculiar activity, patently unwilling to receive the papers. 

“Eeeh”, Satoru drags out a displeased whine, without even bothering to look at Ijichi. Currently seated and mindlessly spinning around in a swivel chair that he rummaged out earlier that day from one of the storage units in Jujutsu High and dragged into the classroom for god knows why. His entire attention focused on keeping his long legs up in the air as he spins as fast as he can without possibly breaking the chair, but still, he shows some semblance of interest. “When? Where? What’s it about?”, the words spoken in slow monotone. 

If you look at the papers, you might know the answer to all these, Gojo-san. Ijichi thinks to himself but, of course, doesn’t dare say it out loud. “It’s in two days from now, the location is—” 

“Stop right there”, Satoru cuts him off, ceasing his childish ministrations with his feet landing a heavy stomp on the floor. He slowly gets up. “In two days?”, he rubs his chin, thinking, “I am afraid, I can’t. I am getting married then” 

Of course, you are. Ijichi thinks in an internal monologue. 

“With all due respect, Gojo-san”, he clears his throat to push back the laughter that’s about to climb up and out his throat. “You could’ve come up with a better excuse than this to, umm—”, after fixing his glasses, he continues, “—ditch your duties” 

“That was not an excuse, Ijichi, nor was it a joke. I can’t believe you think so lowly of me as a teacher”  

For a second there, the evident seriousness in his voice sends a shiver down Ijichi’s spine, which, to be honest, is not entirely caused by the way Gojo spoke to him, but also what he spoke of just now.  “I really am getting married”, he repeats. 

“Oh?”, Ijichi’s eyes widen, unable to utter another word other than an exclamation while processing the credibility of his words. This man is not joking? This man, of all men, is getting married? For real? 

“To be more precise — in two days from now, I will be busy kidnapping this bride-o-mine” 

“Oh?!”, still speechless, another gasp leaves Ijishi’s mouth. “You’re eloping?”  

“That is correct, ten points for you Ijichi!”, Satoru claps his hands. “Keep this a secret for the time being. I know it's a matter of time for everyone to know, but I'd rather they found out after it’s official since prying eyes might get in our way and spoil our plans. Got it?” 

Ijichi only nods in return. 

“Good. As for the mission — let Nanami handle it in my stead, the students will be fine as long as he’s with them” 

After Satoru left, excusing himself with a “oh, so many things to do before the big day, you know?” spoken with his trademark silly chuckle, Ijichi stood there in the empty classroom for a while, frozen. Shocked to his core still, but now also curious. Who was that woman to make Gojo Satoru want to marry her? 

The Proposal 

(two weeks ago) 

“To say I was surprised to get a call from you would be an understatement, Miss Zenin”, Satoru grinned at you, taking off his sunglasses immediately upon your arrival and placing them on the table. 

It’s not that you were late — he was simply early, something quite bizarre for him honestly. Already ordered drinks for the both of you and waiting for you to show up with his legs crossed and fingers nervously tapping on the table — again, being nervous was something quite unusual for him as well. 

“And to ask me to meet you here of all places—”, he sprawled out on the chair, leaning his back against the wooden splat, his long legs reaching the other side of the table from beneath and pushing the chair there with his feet to invite you to sit. He was being a gentleman in his own way, to which you rolled your eyes but made no remark. “Are you going to ask me to kill someone for you?”, a mocking chuckle escaped his lips after he finished his sentence. 

“Not necessarily”, you replied, unamused.  

The day before, you called him. Asking to meet you here, in this secluded spot disguised as a cafe which regular people avoided, since it was a place swarmed by dangerous individuals and illegal activities. Drugs, kidnapping, assassination — whatever shady dealing you could think of. It had to be this place, after all there was no way for a Zenin to meet a Gojo out in the open, considering the bad blood between the two clans since generations ago. Especially not the daughter of Zenin Naobito, the clan head, and Gojo Satoru, the pride and leader of the Gojo clan. It would’ve caused consequences, for you at least. 

“You’ve got some balls to come here alone though, I must admit. As intriguing as always”, Satoru scoffed. “I don’t remember the last time I sat this close to you. Not since we were kids”, his lips slightly curved into a nostalgic smile as he reminisced about old times. “Now you avoid me anywhere you see me, like I’m some sort of disease”, and the smile shifted back to a regular one, although you could tell it was forced, just to keep his usual nonchalant appearance. “Not that we meet outside of clans’ gatherings, but still—” 

“Can we skip the yapping and cut to the chase? I don’t have much time”, you interrupted. “Sure, Miss Zenin”, he shot back. 

Miss Zenin. The way he called you that annoyed you abysmally, and that probably was his intention all along. But you had to ignore it for now, you really didn’t have much time on your hands — you had to go back home before anyone would notice you weren’t around. 

“I have a favor to ask, actually — it’s more of a proposal” 

 “Listening”, his head tilting to the side, eyes locked on your lips, awaiting the words. 

“Will you marry me?” 

Silence. 

It took him a few seconds before he could speak, pondering in his head whether he heard you right. Eventually the only word he could utter was “What?”, to which you said nothing. You figured it was best to give him some time to process the information.  

“What’s the catch?”, he spoke again, eyes now squinting. 

“Glad you asked”, you gave him a knowing smile. 

“Of course. I would say it’s a joke but no way you’d call me out of the blue just to pull my leg” 

“True, it isn’t a joke” 

“I believe it’s not out of love either? Unless... I am wrong? Have you been harboring such strong feelings towards me all these years?”, his tone slowly transitioning back into mocking after the initial shock had faded. 

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “You wish. See, that would only happen in your dreams” 

Laughing, he slowly shifted in his seat. Leaning his body forward to rest an elbow on the table and press a cheek against his palm, his other hand playing with the straw of his drink. “So, you want out of the clan, huh? And finally have the courage to do it” 

“You figured?” 

“Well, I grasp things quickly. Considering how the Zenins treat women and especially those born without cursed energy, like yourself, this wasn’t hard to predict. But I am surprised by the choice of your method” 

“And I am surprised you didn’t cut me out by now since this was a shot in the dark”, you eyed him, baffled but pleasantly. 

“Let’s say I am intrigued by your proposal, which turned out to be quite unromantic, but I'll look past it”, a mystifying grin splattered on his lips. "Also, as you already know, there’s a Zenin or two I am willing to help”, he laughed. “So, tell me — what’s in that beautiful head of yours?” 

"Well, as you already guessed — I want to leave the clan. Being a Zenin is not for me, never has been. I’ve been treated like an abomination all my life, looked down upon like I barely fit the criteria to be human in their eyes just because I was not gifted with abilities, and I am done with it”, you paused, trying to hold back the cracking of your voice. All the years of mistreatment washing over you as you spoke. You took a deep breath, “Simply running away is not an option, they will find me and drag me back for worse. You know it. But if you help me—” 

“—their hands will be tied”, he finished your sentence.  

You nodded. “They can’t go against you. Well, there might be a slight commotion, namely coming from my brother, Naoya. But he won’t do anything brash without father’s approval” 

“That lousy brat? I didn’t know the two of you were so close”, Satoru lifted an eyebrow, a bit bothered by this. 

“We’re not, but it’s complicated” 

He got the message — you did not wish to talk about it. And he’d let it slide. For now. “And you think you’ll be free once you become a Gojo?” 

“Not immediately, but eventually — yes. I don’t plan on staying by your side until death do us part, you know” 

“What an eventful meeting this turned out to be — first I get a marriage proposal, and now a divorce, all at once”, he laughed, covering his eyes with a hand. Perhaps to hide something in them that didn’t quite align with his laughter. “What if I get attached and refuse to let you go?”, he spoke, with a tone more serious that it took you aback a bit. “Have you considered this?” 

“Are you a comedian now?”, you brushed it off. “We both know such thing won’t happen” 

“How come you’re so sure?” 

“It’s happened before, you know it” 

“We were kids back then”, he smiled softly, with a sprinkle of regret on his lips. “We used to sneak out to spend time together, but things are different now” 

“But you stopped coming” 

“My training got more intense, didn’t have time for games anymore” 

“You bet. I know you did it to keep me out of trouble. You were aware I was getting scolded and punished for meeting you” 

“Oh?”, he gasped. “You knew?”, a powerless laughter followed the realization that all these years you didn’t just avoid him out of spite. Part of him felt at ease about it, that you always understood him, even without words. Just like back then. Maybe because you were both a mutation of a different breed — a special boy put on a pedestal by many, a monster if you will; and a nonspecial girl looked down upon by her own blood as a disappointment, barely a human — yet the loneliness you carried weighed the same on your hearts. 

“Yea”, you sighed. “Back then you did it to keep me out of trouble, now you’ll do it to get me out of one. When the time comes, we’ll separate but keep it a secret. If my clan finds out, they won’t let it slide. I’ll show up for gatherings every now and then, to dodge any possible suspicions, but that’s all. Treat this like a deal” 

“That’s all good, but deals require an equivalent exchange so both parties benefit from it. You get your freedom. But what about me — what do I get in return?” 

Your lips curved into a scarce smile, delighted that he was willing to negotiate. This could actually work, you thought. “Well, it’s not like your family will be very pleased to have me but still. The most important thing is, you won’t ever have to deal with the blind dates your clan sets you up on, with an arranged marriage in mind. I bet they’re nagging you about it constantly since you’re pretty much of age now” 

“What my clan is concerned about is an heir, marriage is just a stepping stone. How will this temporary thing between us do that? Temporary and fake on top of that?”, he questioned through a scorn. 

“I’ll give you a child”, you shot at him in a heartbeat, voice unwavering. This was part of the plan after all. 

“What?”, he laughed, tilting his head in pure astonishment at your offer. 

“We will lead a normal married life, like a proper wife and husband. I’ll have your child, this secures me even better. That way I’ll be tied to the Gojo clan forever, not the Zenin” 

“You’re aware what we need to do in order for you to have my child, right?” 

You were, but when he put it like that your face got hot against your will, heat burning your cheeks and sizzling on your ears. “I am”, you mumbled, unable to look him in the face. Petrified to meet his gaze. 

“You really are insane”, he covered his face with both hands. Perhaps he was petrified, too. 

“Coming from you that’s rather concerning. Now back to the point — you up for it?” 

“Alright. Let’s do it” 

Sealing The Deal 

(back to present) 

For the past two days Satoru pulled all the strings possible in order to speed up the marriage procedure. He diligently prepared all the needed documents to officially register your matrimony. All that was left was to go to the ward office and submit the marriage application after signing it along with two witnesses. 

With that, today would mark your last day as a Zenin. 

“Do you know who the girl is?”, Shoko asks, leaning against the wall in the ward office hallways, waiting for Satoru and the mystery bride to arrive. 

Geto shrugs from next to her, “Nope, no clue. Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is happening — he is actually getting married” 

“You of all people didn’t know he was involved with someone?”, she scoffs, turning her head in his direction. “Strange, maybe he was hiding the love of his life from you so you wouldn’t snatch her away” 

“He wasn’t involved with anyone, if he was — we both would’ve known. Besides, what do you mean by that? I would never break the bro code, come on” 

A semblance of a lazy laugh slips through Shoko’s lips. One can tell she didn’t get much sleep (again) by how lethargic and unenthusiastic her reactions were. “Girls end up falling for you always, so maybe he chickened out to introduce her” 

“That’s because he sucks with girls”, Geto snorts.  

Satoru wasn’t exactly the sweep-you-off-your-feet type of guy. His looks were bewitching, that was a given, and women would latch on him, only to give up shortly after. And all the reviews were unanimous — I want someone that will put me first, but with him — I don’t see it ever happening, his mind is elsewhere.  

“Maybe he finally caved in after years of his family pestering him to get married”, Shoko throws another guess. 

“Satoru caving in to an arranged marriage? Seriously, Shoko... Does he look like the type to listen to what elders tell him to do?” 

“He never looked like the marrying type either, yet here we are” 

“I don’t know”, Geto sighs heavily. “This is way too odd” 

“Hey, hey~”, Satoru’s voice echoes through the hallways. “Sorry to keep you waiting, my bride was barely able to sneak out from the Zenins. You know how the old farts there are” 

Hearing the name Zenin, Shoko and Geto glance at each other with the same perplexed look in their eyes. A Zenin? Sneaking out? 

Forcing a somewhat adequate smile, you shake their hands. You could tell they were taken aback after hearing your name, it was written all over their faces that they didn’t quite endorse this insane whim of Satoru’s. 

“Satoru, can I have a quick word with you”, Geto pulls him to the side after giving you a polite smile as a form of apology. 

“Are you eloping?”, he whispers, although quite audibly, “With a Zenin? Have you actually lost your mind, Satoru?” 

“Suguru”, Satoru lazily drapes an arm over Geto’s shoulder, “Yes to your first question, as for the second — have you ever seen me be normal about anything?”, he laughs. 

“Not the right time to humor your misery, Satoru”, Geto says through gritted teeth all while forcing a smile looking your way, to avoid any awkward impression on your end that the two of them were talking about you (even though that’s exactly what was going on). “There’s existent animosity between your clans already, are you trying to start an actual war all over again?”, he snaps, giving a sharp nudge to his side. 

“Ouch~”, Satoru yelps. “Come on, Suguru. What can they do to me?”, his words brimming with confidence compel Geto to rub the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Do you remember, that one time on the rooftop back when we were still students in Jujutsu High, I told you about a girl from my childhood?”, Satoru continues. 

Geto nods. He does remember it vividly, after all it was the first and last time Satoru has ever talked about a girl of his own accord and with so much passion behind his voice. 

“That’s her.” 

“It’s our turn”, Shoko interrupts. “Let’s go get you married” 

As you all entered the hall, Suguru gave Satoru a soft pat on the back and glanced over his shoulder at Shoko with a validating nod. 

Satoru got a pass from his moral compass. 

-- 

Signatures were inked, rings were exchanged, and vows were made to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part. 

It is said that vows are crucial in a marriage, they set the tone for your relationship going forward and serve as a ground to build your values on. Whatever values could be built on a soil soaked with lies, you thought to yourself as you all walked out. As soon as the ceremony was over Shoko rushed out to get the dose of nicotine her body was yearning for the entire time inside the ward office, leaving you three behind. 

There was nothing holy about your union, it was a lie to begin with. And, naturally, so were your vows. It shouldn’t bother you this much that you were to break the fake promises you just made to the man that handed you a one-way ticket to your freedom. 

“What’s with the face, Mrs. Gojo?”, Satoru softly pokes you in the arm, the unease in your expression doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “We just tied the knot, yet you look like you just walked out of a funeral” 

A funeral. Right. That’s how it felt to you. 

You buried yourself, your past, in there. You got what you wanted, but part of you was terrified of the new person you were to become. Mrs. Gojo, huh? You were not in the right headspace to be snarky about it now. 

“I’m fine. All these formalities are draining, that’s all” 

“Then we’ve got to recharge”, he grins, then turns around and shouts at Geto who’s walking a few steps behind and scrolling on his phone, “Suguruuu, let’s celebrate, shall we?” 

“Geez, you’re loud, Satoruuu”, he cracks an irked grimace, sticking a pinky finger into his ear. 

“There’s no need for that”, you whisper, tugging at the hem of his shirt.  

Satoru’s fingers trace over your knuckles, hesitant to get a proper hold of your hand, but he gives in anyway, “We have to pretend there is”, he speaks in a low voice, and wraps his hand around yours. “Besides, it’s lunchtime. We need to eat” 

You don’t resist, neither his touch nor his words.  

On your way to the restaurant that your (now) husband made a quick call to reserve a table for four, Satoru sat on the driver’s seat — a rare occasion, usually Ijichi drives him everywhere — glancing at you beside him on the passenger seat at every opportunity, studying your features and how much they’ve changed compared to his childhood memories of you. It’s not like he never saw you after that. But you’d never let him take a good long look at you, always running away the moment you noticed him around. Before he could know it, he was smiling, mouth agape — a soundless “ha” passing through the crack of his lips, the sunlight hitting his eyes, yet he couldn’t blink — he had to take you in. He was back to being a child at that moment, wearing his genuine feelings on his face without knowing how to mask them. And you... you were even prettier now. 

The two sitting on the backseat exchanged an astounded look after observing the scene unfolding before their eyes. Who would’ve guessed that their friend had such a hidden, soft spot for someone and could make such genuine faces? 

The Past 

You were born with bad luck. 

That’s what you told yourself. And that’s what others, who felt sorry for you, thought so too. Mostly those unfortunate enough to be servants in the Zenin clan that have witnessed way too many things happen to you. 

First, you were born into the Zenin Clan as the daughter of Zenin Naobito, the leader — that alone was the biggest mishap the heavens bestowed you with. A problematic clan with questionable values, where owning powerful cursed techniques was held in highest regard and considered the measure of your worth as an individual and whether you were fit to be a Zenin. Rejecting, without an ounce of remorse, their own flesh and blood and looking down at them like inferior beings did they deem their ability weak and unworthy. 

With that being said, here comes the second — you were born into that clan, with no cursed energy. You didn’t make the cut ever since the beginning. The clan didn’t even mourn the fact you were lacking, they simply treated you indifferently, and sometimes with disgust, like you were one of the servants — easily replaceable. “It’s not enough that you were born a girl, but you are also lacking the gift. You were never meant to be part of this family to begin with, the name of Zenin will abandon you once you get married”, your grandmother would often tell you, right before throwing you into the disciplinary pit with curses. Till then, maybe through some miracle you could manifest some cursed energy if she locked you up there for long enough, so you could be at least a little bit useful. 

Wait. There’s a third, too — your mother lost her life giving birth to you. It’s not like you felt any guilt for that, you never knew what parental love was anyway, therefore didn't see it as a burden that weighed on your conscience. In fact, you were partly relieved that there was one person less to mistreat you there. 

Your older brother, Zenin Naoya, would often use this to harass you. Telling you “Maybe you’re not that hopeless after all, since you killed mother. Or maybe that’s even worse — she’s going to be your only kill” with that revolting laugh of his.  

Other kids looked down on you too, avoiding you like you carried some disease. There were rumors even, how childish, now what you think back — that if you came closer to them, you’d rid them of their powers and of their mothers too. Oddly enough, those rumors were started by none other than your brother. Perhaps he wanted to be the only one to pick on you. While he made every woman walk three paces behind him, he’d keep you close, telling you in a condescending manner “How am I to look down on you if you keep walking behind me, little lamb?” 

And you truly were a little lamb. Living and growing only to get the life in you eaten away by the Zenins. A sacrifice for no good. 

But the summer of your sixth year was different. 

You met a boy. 

He looked like winter in the middle of summer. Snow-white hair falling over his face and likewise lashes, sitting like tender snowflakes on his eyelids. The bluest blue in his eyes you had ever seen in your life, and if you stared long enough it’d throw you into a trance. 

There was a sense of loneliness to him akin to winter too. 

How when the cold months came around, people would spend less time outside and instead run to their homes to warm up in front of the fireplace. He was the winter people were hiding from. 

And you figured, you had heard of him. He was the special boy of the Gojo Clan, the first in centuries to inherit both The Limitless and The Six Eyes, whose birth alone shifted the power balance in the world, who had a bounty over his head at such a young age for being a force too great to be kept alive. 

He was the complete opposite of you, yet somehow the same as you. One rejected for being too much, and the other — for not being enough. Both were similarly exhausting, arduous, and lonely. 

You first met during a clans’ gathering. The big three brought together under one roof to discuss some matters you can’t quite recall now, just like you don’t remember the reason you were brought along. Perhaps to carry stuff around, like you always did. 

An exchange of shy glances as you waited outside, sitting on the wooden engawa (veranda) led you both slowly scooching over closer to one another, until the gap between you was small enough that you could see how his heartbeat made the collar of his kimono flutter ever so slightly. 

“Is it sweet?”, the boy pointed at the popsicle in your hand. “It is”, you answered along with a nod. Bringing it up to his mouth — “Want some?” — you invited him to take a bite as he looked at you with uncertain eyes. A blush painting a beautiful cherry hue on the pale complexion of his cheeks. He nibbled on the side of it — “It is!” — his eyes grew wide, a glow in them. 

“You’ve never had one? — surprise in you voice. “Of course, I have”, he lied, scratching the back of his head, a bit embarrassed of possibly seeming uncool in your eyes. 

He had a strict regime when it came to the food he consumed. Whatever he put into his mouth had to be of great value and nutrition, diligently prepared by the best chefs, so his body, or as others saw it — the shell where a god resided in — would grow healthy and strong to be on par with his powers. 

It was the first time you shared food with someone else. You usually ate alone, disgusted by the Zenins surrounding you around the table that your throat felt too tight to swallow anything that you put in your mouth, be it water even. 

And it was the first friend you ever made. While everyone up until now turned a blind eye and avoided you, he didn’t run. He even stayed. 

Introducing himself as “Satoru" only, he deliberately refrained from saying his full name at first. When you never pushed him to reveal it, he turned a bit fidgety. 

“You never asked about my last name” — lips slightly pursed, the muscles on his face fighting off a pout but failing eventually. “Maybe I’m not that interested in you” — tilting your head, you teased, yet — “Just kidding, I know who you are” — you quickly added upon seeing his brows knitting in dejection. “But you can be just Satoru with me” 

From that day onward you’d meet in secret every now and then, whenever both of you could manage to sneak out. For just a little bit. To eat popsicles and other sweet things together. 

That was, until your brother found out. 

Naoya always kept tabs on you after all. You were a prey to him, and chasing you was like a game. It was only a matter of time before he knew. Or perhaps he did already but let you sneak out on purpose so he could use it to his avail and torment you further. 

Naturally, the time you spent with Satoru fell shorter compared to that spent in the disciplinary pit. “That’s to teach you a lesson, little lamb”, Naoya would say with a twisted look in his eyes as he locked you up in there. 

At times like this, you’d remember your grandmother’s words — “the name of Zenin will abandon you once you get married”. 

...and an idea brewed in your mind. 

If you could run away right now, you would. But where would you go? What would you do? You were only six. If your own flesh and blood was this cruel to you, how could you expect the outside world to treat you any better? 

You were not that naive. You knew you had to wait. 

You endured the endless hours that felt like days and weeks in that pit, surviving by pure miracle every time. Or was it hope that kept you fighting? Because you knew, by the end of it, as long as you were alive, you’d find a way to meet your friend, the only one you had. And maybe he could save you one day. Maybe, tomorrow you could make a promise to each other — that when the time came and you were both of age, you would take his last name and be freed of the curse you were born with. 

...but Satoru never showed up. 

(to be continued) 

The First Night 

(back to present) 

It was getting late. You spent more time than originally planned at lunch with Shoko and Geto as everyone had already cleared out their schedules for the day to join you on your escapade. 

You thought at first, that the entire time you would have to dodge questions such as How did this happen? When did you start seeing each other? When did you decide it was time? Who proposed? How? Doesn’t the animosity between your clans worry you? Have you considered the consequences even? Are you perhaps pregnant? Is this why all the rush is for?, etc...  

But that never happened. Neither of them pried, nor made you uncomfortable invading your personal space. In fact, they made you loosen up a bit by being warm and friendly, already treating you like one of them, mocking Gojo’s constant mischiefs in front of you. The setting resembled that of a parent-teacher meeting where you were in the role of the parent, and they were the teachers complaining to you about Gojo. It was a rather humbling experience for the whitehaired man who sat there pouting and subtly gesturing for them to cut it.  

But when he heard you laughing at their stories, he ceased. Sucking it up, he let them continue playfully bashing him. He had really missed your laugh. 

“So~ we’re here — welcome to your new home”, Satoru points at the huge mansion after helping you hop out of the car. One of the bodyguards in the yard immediately took the keys from his hand and drove the car away to park it in the garage area. 

To say this thing before your eyes was huge would be an understatement actually. After you quickly scanned the place you noticed there were a few more houses built around the mansion, and perhaps even behind it.  

The Gojo household was located in a huge, fenced area with a single front entrance, for security purposes (so it would always be known who walked in and out under meticulous surveillance), leading to a big yard with a well-kept garden befitting the Gojo Clan. The first house in front, and the biggest, was the main mansion — inhabited by Satoru’s parents and grandparents (from his father’s side), while extended family (like aunts, uncles, cousins — basically the most important members of the clan) resided in the ones around it. 

Satoru, despite being the clan head, did not live in the main mansion. His place was relatively isolated from the rest (ironically resembling the life he led and the powers he had), situated far behind all the houses, right before a path that led to a forest-like area as part of the Gojo property. 

“No way”, you gasp — “Don’t tell me you live with your entire clan?” — as you quickly pad forward, leaving him a few steps behind, to further inspect the place. 

“Not technically but yea, we stick together — clan traditions deem it this way”, he sighs. 

“Never took you as the tradition following guy, to be honest” 

He chuckles, “What can I say — I am full of surprises~ But truthfully, as the clan head I can’t just up and leave, you know? Besides...” — a pause, observing you as your eyes roam around studying the place, head turning from one side to the other in astonishment. Then his gaze shifts to his left hand. Lifting it slightly and spreading his fingers to look at his ring, and then back at you. “...sometimes deeply rooted habits are hard to break. Especially if one holds onto them for too long. It’s hard to let go no matter what kind of person you are” 

“There’s something even beyond you, Gojo Satoru?”, your voice almost mocking but somehow lacking the right tone to it, too distracted by your surroundings. 

He laughs, “Maybe. Just one little thing only” — words mumbled under his breath, too soundless for your ears to catch on. 

-- 

After you made it in, he gave you a full tour around the house. Walking you through each and every room, thoroughly explaining where things were and how you could touch up anything you desired and change it to your liking — this was now your home, too.   

The last stop was the bedroom.  

“Should I carry you in bridal style? That’s how newlyweds do it~”, Satoru smirks at you, arms crossed around his waist, his side leaning against the doorframe. 

You were about to make a face there for a second and give him an eyeroll, maybe even pick on him for watching way too many romcoms, but you held back. 

“Sure, why not”, you mumble instead, looking down. 

After all, before you was the room where certain things were to happen in, according to your deal, and you thought it’s best to let him indulge in this play pretend and carry you in as your feet were frozen in their tracks anyway. Nervous of what was ahead, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. 

“Oh?” — caught off guard, not expecting you to actually go along with it, he gasps, but then — “Right?” — quickly plays it cool. “Alright, bride-o-mine, here we go” 

Charging towards you with a slow step, he leans down so your eyes are on equal level, face an inch away from yours. So close that, as he cracks his lips open to swipe a tongue across them his hot breath feels like steam against your skin. Licking his lips, a habit you were painfully familiar with, it was something he did when he got nervous that seemingly didn’t change from when he was little. 

He scoops you up effortlessly, holding you tight but tenderly at the same time. His fingers clutching firmly around you yet at the same time careful enough to not bruise you.  “Almost there”, he pushes the creaked door open with his foot and carries you in through the doorway. 

Flustered, you turn your head the other way in an attempt to hide the heat eliciting from your face. You were way too close. His scent invading your nostrils, you could almost distinguish his natural body odor from his perfume. 

“Oh, my... If you shy away this easily”, he carefully sits you on the bed — “how are we to make that baby~ Hm?” — and smugly smirks as he plops down next to you right after, his knee scarcely brushing against your leg.  

“Tch...”, you click your tongue, heat still spreading like fire on your cheeks, and even far up to your ears. “Didn’t know you wanted to bed me right away?” — is he really going to jump on you now? Why bring up the baby talk otherwise... 

He gasps in an overexaggerated manner, gluing fingertips to his mouth, “Thought I could give you some time to adjust, but if you insist...” 

“Ugh, Gojo”, you aim a reflex eyeroll his way. 

“What now, are you talking to yourself?” 

“Excuse me?”, you lift a brow. 

“You’re a Gojo too now, you know?”, a grin on his lips, the kind he makes when he’s about to win something. “When you refer to me, you have to say my first name — Sa-to-ru — to avoid any confusion~” 

See, that was his goal all along — to make you call him by name, just like in the past. 

...but two can play this game. You had no intention of losing this battle to him. 

“Sweetheart”, your tone overly delicate on purpose, as you tilt your head, cheek pressing against your shoulder. “Isn’t this better?”, you flutter your lashes at him. 

His reaction comes slow. The full grin from a second ago is now a half, the other half — a surprise, with a sprinkle of a new, unknown to you glint in his eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game there, sweetheart”, he breathes, scooching closer to you. An arm finding its way around your waist, wrapping itself from the small of your back all the way front, hand stopping at your navel. 

A flinch shudders through your body, but he’s got you still, you can’t pull away. “What happened to giving me time to adjust?”, you mutter, not as feisty anymore. This was a side you haven’t seen to him, which you figured was natural. You knew him as a kid, now — he was a man. And like all men do, he was acting on his urges. 

“You push my buttons”, he’s leaning closer, and closer, and closer, until your noses are brushing and breaths are exchanging. His free hand rolling up and tucking the few strands of hair falling on your face behind your ear, then slowly sliding to the back of your neck. “Trying to get me excited?” 

“If a mere endearment excites you this much, what will become of you when I say your name?” 

He laughs, his breath infesting your mouth. Lips accidentally grazing yours from the action itself, which draws a low, helpless hum out of him. “Care to find out?” 

You jolt — something about the way he was looking at you told you this wasn’t just some simple teasing — and finally bring your hands to use and push him away and get up. “I need a shower” 

“Ah, got all hot and bothered? It’s okay, I am used to it — I have this type of effect on women all the time~”, he chuckles, earning yet another eyeroll from you. Reaching behind to grab a pillow and sit it on his lap, subtly hiding the fact that he got all hot and bothered, too. “You know where the bathroom is, sweetheart” 

He won this round. 

-- 

Satoru is still sitting in the bed, back relaxed against the headboard with one foot thrown over the other on the mattress, as you make your way out of the bathroom. You smell like him now, he thinks — only natural after having to use his shower gel and shampoo — as your freshly showered self approaches the side of the bed your pajamas were carefully folded and placed at. He took it upon himself to buy them for you, along with some clothes, and shoes, and bags, since you couldn’t pack and take anything with you. 

“Can you, umm”, you fidget, “turn around or something? I want to get dressed” 

“There you go again, shying away from your own husband”, he smugly teases. 

“Oh, you want to watch so bad? How perverse of you, sweetheart”, you mock, loosening the belt of your bathrobe so the fabric covering your shoulders slides down a bit, revealing more of your flesh. 

There’s a good chance for this reverse psychology to backfire now, you think, but you just couldn’t make peace with him picking on you like that. 

He shifts in his place, now sitting up on the opposite side, legs touching the ground and his back turned against you. The transition was so quick and instinctive as if he, by sheer luck, dodged a bullet aimed to take his life. “I’d love to stay for the show but, you see...”, he rubs the back of his neck, “I need to check the report regarding my students’ mission from today” 

“I see”, a victorious smirk on your lips as you watch him walk away. 

This round was yours. Now you were even. 

-- 

You were going to be trouble. 

The report was, of course, an excuse. He had to make it out of the room, or he would’ve done something terrible to you. 

His face burning hot as he quickly stripped himself of his clothes in one of the guest rooms downstairs and went straight into the bathroom to cool off. An aching pulse on his groin dragging inaudible curses from his mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

A stream of ice-cold water hitting his face, hugging his shoulders, cascading down the rest of his well-built body before washing down into the drain. He stands there still and completely unaffected by the temperature. He was burning inside. 

Eyes shut, he thinks about you — about the way that bathrobe loosely enveloped your frame, about the gap temptingly revealing bits of your cleavage, leaving little to the imagination... about sliding his hands down into that very gap and pushing it open, taking the fabric covering your shoulders in his hands and pulling it down your arms to expose your breasts... about clasping both of your wrists behind the small of your back while his other hand moves to the side of your face and holds your chin before kissing you hungrily... then moving to your jawbone, and then lower, and lower... and lower, kissing and nibbling until he reaches your nipples, and then further below... 

His hand relentlessly stroking his cock to the visual of you in his imagination. Part of him absolutely disgusted by what he was doing right now, thinking how he was tainting the innocent girl from his memories. But then another, the one he couldn’t suppress — shamelessly trying to picture even beyond, making up in his mind what he thought your sweet expressions and obscene sounds would be like under his touch.  

His balls tighten up to him as he pumps himself from base to head with firm strokes, low growls rising from his throat echo through the walls the faster his hand works up and down his shaft. 

The tension soon leaves his body, his cum oozing out from between his fingers and spraying all over the bathroom tiles.  

Oh, you were going to be trouble for sure... 

-- 

“What puzzles me though, is that nobody has called you all day”, he walks into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his hips. “In all honesty, it’s been bugging me for a while now”, a hand brushes back his damp hair. 

“They think I’m staying over at a friend’s place”, trying to ignore the view before you, you avert your gaze from him and his ridiculously lean body and well sculpted six pack that looked way too perfect to be real. He probably came here half naked, on purpose, to get back at you for earlier... Say nothing, say nothing, say nothing — you kept internally repeating to yourself. Play it cool. 

“And they let you?”, he casually saunters over to you, his hand reaching behind you to grab a hold of his nightwear sitting on his pillow. Seriously? He had to walk all the way to your side only to reach for the pajamas placed on his? What a sore loser... 

“Mhm”, you hum, lips tight and eyes looking down at your lap, “I managed to convince father. The odds were in our favor, I guess? — But I have to pay them a visit tomorrow, to deliver the news” 

“We will pay them a visit”, he corrects you. “I’m coming with you” 

“You don’t have to” 

“But I want to”, he insists, his resolve is solid. 

“Okay”, you don’t resist any further. “What about your family? When are we telling them?” 

He makes his way to the bathroom inside the room, while still speaking to you from over there. At least he’s not as shameless to get dressed in front of you.  

“They’re easy, I’ll talk to them some time tomorrow. Might organize a little thing to introduce my wife properly, heheh” 

“How do you think they’ll take the news? I mean, I know they won’t endorse it but — on a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it will be?” 

“What does it matter when it’s fait accompli? Besides, they can’t go against my decisions, so”, he shrugs after making it back, fully dressed now. Thanks god. But wait... 

“Did you seriously get us matching pajamas?”, you look him up. He was wearing the exact same pair in blue, while yours was a light shade of pink. 

“Yea?”, he emits a dorky snicker. “Don’t you think it’s cute?” 

“Ew, cringe”, you fight back a snort. 

What a truly bothersome man... 

Bad Faith 

— (n.) dishonest behavior with the intention of deceiving someone. “bad faith” refers to dishonesty or fraud in a transaction. depending on the exact setting, bad faith may mean a dishonest belief or purpose, untrustworthy performance of duties, neglect of fair dealing standards, or a fraudulent intent 

You slept well for once in your life, despite being in a new place, a new bed — you knew you owed it to the fact you were away from the Zenins.  

The same can’t be said about Gojo though. 

He stayed wide awake all night, restless, turning and tossing, making occasional visits to the shower even, to calm it down. Annoyed to some extent by how he was the only one in turmoil while you innocently slept next to him, unaware of his condition. He felt like an insatiable teenager all over again. How embarrassing, he thought... 

During the whole car ride to the Zenins, he kept yawning and rubbing his eyes from beneath his pitch-black sunglasses that were adeptly hiding his dark sleepless circles caused by none other than you. 

“You can wait in the car”, you try your chance one last time after arriving. 

“I said I’m coming with you, so don’t waste your breath” 

“Fine” 

After you both make it past the gates of the Zenin household, the few of the servants standing in the veranda quickly pad inside — most likely to bring it to your father’s attention, you think. 

All the rest you got the night before instantly leaves your body now that you’re in Zenin territory, your chest filled with unease as you cross the threshold of the place that, despite being so big, could never quite fit you in and be a home to you. 

Your mouth feels too dry, you try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it keeps sitting there like an immovable object, growing bigger even the further you step in. 

Unknowingly, you’re grabbing Satoru’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Relax. I am right here”, he leans in to soothingly whisper in your ear, which makes you realize your actions. You pull your hand away, picking up your pace. 

...only to slow down and take a step back the moment your eyes fixate on none other than your brother, Naoya, leaning against the wall in the hallway. Waiting for you. His hair falling on his face, covering the look in his eyes but by the way his teeth bite into his lower lip, you can tell — he’s not thrilled by the view of you together.  

“Well, well”, a loud, hysterical laughter erupts from Naoya’s mouth as he strolls over to you, thumbing the bridge of his nose. “If this doesn’t remind me of good old times when my little sister would sneak out to play with you — are you perhaps falling back into that bad habit of yours, little lamb?” 

You flinch as Naoya’s claw-like hand reaches for your shoulder, ready to hook his grip on you, but with a swift move Gojo stands in front of you and stops your brother, leaving him unable to go any further due to his infinity. “Hello to you too” 

Naoya clicks his tongue, not pleased with the impenetrable intrusion. “Tch... Move, don’t butt in in family matters” 

Satoru chuckles condescendingly, “I am family too now, you know? — Dear brother-in-law" 

A jarring burst of inconsistent, unsettling laughter follows this declaration, each sound leaving Naoya’s lips grows more hectic and twisted, the tone wavering between low and high, and it sends a chill down your spine. 

“Huh... sis... that true?”, the deranged madness in his voice dying down now, but he speaks with a timbre of sinisterness. His eyes wide, unblinking and staring right at you with piercing lunacy in them. 

He had the same exact maniacal aura to him right now, just like years ago when he first confronted you about the secret escapades with Satoru. 

Terrified, you hug your shoulders. Head turned the other way, trying to hide from the sharp daggers in his gaze. 

You only manage a nod, and the sick sound from seconds ago echoes through the hallway once again. 

“You—”, Naoya grits his teeth, trying to draw near you but the whitehaired man before him won’t budge. “How long have you been plotting this for, huh?” 

Irritated at Gojo’s technique that leaves him unable to come any closer and wipe that mighty grin off his face, Naoya takes his frustration out on the wall by punching a hole right through it. “You fucking as—” 

“Naoya”, your father’s voice approaching from behind him interrupts the commotion. “Go cool your head off” 

“Tch...”, it’s not that he feels like complying, no. His arrogant self would never bow down to anyone, not even his own father, the clan head. 

But walking away right now gave him a chance to pass by you — and he’d gladly take it, as there was something he wanted to confirm.  

“Did you let him touch you, little lamb? Answer me — did you?”, he stops right behind you and whispers from over your shoulder. 

You wince, his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. Noticing that Satoru’s hand is moving slightly up and getting ready to possibly attack your brother, you gesture at him to stop. Mouthing a silent it’s fine. 

“Don't but in in husband-wife matters, our sex life is off-limits for you, brother”, you mutter over your shoulder. 

“Pfft”, his eyes squint knowingly at you. “Good — I don’t smell foreign residuals on you. Good, little lamb. Good.” 

-- 

“So, you two, huh?”, Naobito, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the tatami room, takes a sip of his sake and wipes the droplets drizzling from the corners of his mouth. 

It was barely noon, yet your father, as per usual, had already started his drinking for the day, most likely during the early hours of the morning at that. 

You hum, but the man beside you, your husband, had something more to say. 

“What can I do, old man — your daughter’s a beauty, I had to go and take her. Pardon my rudeness, I forgot to ask for your approval first” — to which you basically facepalm yourself. 

“If you had done that first, you wouldn’t be sitting here now, you arrogant brat”, Naobito drags out, the alcohol must be getting to him. “But the damage is done already, what can I say”, he adds through a hiccup. 

“—or do, against me — Right, old man?”, Satoru shoots a proud grin, then on a more serious tone, he continues — “She’s mine now. And I don’t quite fancy it when people pry on what belongs to me. So, I ask of you to act accordingly from now on, or there will be consequences” 

“You ask? Yet this sounds more like a threat to me” 

“It could be, depends on you” 

Silence. 

The air in the room is intense and heavy after these exchanges. There’s a calm smile on both of your father’s and husband’s faces, yet the glare in their eyes is as cold as absolute zero. 

“With that being said, glad we’re on the same page and thank you for the half-assed belated blessing~ I will take care of her from now on, don’t you worry”, your husband nonchalantly breaks the silence, then looks at you with a quick shake of his head towards the door. Meaning, our job here is done. Let’s go. 

“You might go, I wish to speak to my daughter, alone” 

Satoru glances at you, looking for consent in your eyes. You nod affirmatively, “Wait for me in the car” 

Before walking out, Satoru gives one last warning. “Old man, if you try anything funny, I’ll make this place one with the ground beneath you”  

-- 

“Make this place one with the ground?”, Naobito laughs uproariously. “You’ve gotten under his skin. Good.” 

He gulps down another cup before proceeding, “He’s always got a soft spot for you. I’ve seen his eyes wander in search of you during clans’ gatherings, but this — this is beyond my expectations even”, he wheezes. “Good job. You’re finally doing something right and being useful to the clan” 

“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for my own sake”, you grit your teeth. 

“I don’t care for your purpose so long we sow the benefits of what you reap, just like I don’t care how you do it so long you take him down — poison him or slit his throat in his sleep, I couldn’t care less. Just make sure he’s dead by the end of it — it’s the only way to get that lousy freedom you’ve been babbling about all these years” 

The terms were clear from the beginning, yet your stomach fills to the brim with guilt, threatening to spill out from your mouth the more your father speaks of it. 

And he continues, “If you give him a child too in the meantime — even better. That way the Zenins can take over the Gojo Clan”, a greedy curve on his mouth wet with sake. “But in all honesty, what surprises me the most is you, actually — you’re more of a Zenin now than ever”, an unhinged laughter cracks his lips. 

Your father’s words stab through your heart like a sharp knife. Snapping a few necks for the greater good for yourself, your freedom, shouldn’t be a problem after all you’ve been through. 

But then, why does it feel like he is right? You are more of a Zenin now than ever. Why does it feel like the more you try to run away from the Zenins, the more you become one? 

And why does your heart ache so much for the man you are to kill soon?

[artthatgivesmefeelings]

François-Joseph Navez (Belgian, 1787-1869) The Incredulity of Saint Thomas, 1823 Thomas the Apostle—often referred to as “Doubting Thomas”—was one of the twelve main disciples of Jesus Christ. In the Gospel of John, Thomas famously doubted Jesus’ resurrection, telling the other disciples, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). Jesus then appeared and offered to let him do just that. Upon seeing Jesus in the flesh with his own eyes (and possibly touching the wounds), Thomas proclaimed, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28). Jesus responded with one of the most powerful and prophetic statements about faith in all of Scripture: “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (John 20:29).

[rosesanddecay]

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x gn!reader

TW: minor angst(?)/comfort- mostly just anxiety on Gaz’s part

——

He had gone dark months ago.

Months without contact.

Months of you not knowing if he was alive, and of him not knowing if you were safe.

It felt bone chilling to be standing in front of your shared home. Would you have missed him? Would you have stayed faithful despite going no contact?

Gaz didn’t want to think like that.

He wanted to believe when you promised you loved him. But being away for so long for the first time in a relationship, it could break everything. It’s happened to him before.

The more he stared at the front door, the more he wished he had stayed the night on base and texted you the next morning. To give you some heads up, he convinced himself.

But ignoring the jittering of fear in his hands and heart, he crossed the threshold.

The house was dark and silent, only a few automatic lights provided light. The blue shine from the fridge marked 3:27, so he treaded extra carefully. If his hopes were right, you’d have been asleep for a while now.

Setting his things quietly on the counter, Kyle took some time to see that the place had been slightly rearranged. Or had it always been like that? Maybe he just couldn’t remember.

Everything was open and clean, and he felt like a spot that got missed during sweeping. His shoes were still coated in dirt, his skin in sweat, and he reeked of exhaustion. In his uniform, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

He continued on in the house, pushing aside the ever looming feeling of misplacement.

The walk to your shared bedroom felt like walking on a tightrope. What would you do if you woke up? What if you weren’t there at all?

Either it was all the time away or the sleep deprivation, but Kyle couldn’t help but overthink seeing you again.

The door faintly creaked open… and you were asleep in bed.

Thank god.

Despite wanting to crawl in beside you, he knew he needed to shed off the last of his gear. A shower would also is probably necessary.

The bathroom looked mostly the same. His things were still in their typical areas; his soap in the shower, the beard trimmer he forgot on the sink, even the old sticky note you left him one morning. It all made him smile, made him think that maybe he still had a spot in this home.

The water was a bit cold for his liking, but he didn’t want to waste time warming it when he could be in bed as soon as possible.

He felt warm at the thought of holding you in bed after all this time.

Had you been taking care of yourself? Drinking water and staying fed? Hopefully you hadn’t gotten sick while he was gone…

The thoughts died out as he picked up his bottle of shampoo. It felt near full, which was odd… he was sure he had left it close to empty. He had made a mental note to get a new one once he was back. Who had used his stuff?

The fears came back in an instant as he rushed even more to get out of the shower.

His feet hit the floor of your shared bedroom with caution. As much as he wanted to wake you and ask about the shampoo, he knew how silly it would be to wake you up over it.

When morning comes, he thought to himself.

So instead, with ease, he slipped into the bed and leaned over you slightly. Even in the dark he could trace your features, but it now obvious up close that you’d gone to bed not that long before. Your hair faintly damp from a shower of your own, and one of Kyle’s shirts to cover you. God, he felt silly.

How easy his worries could be swayed should be studied, as he stifled a small laugh and kissed your temple. The smell of his hair products on you also helped to quell his fears. His arms wrapped around you as he laid down, your bodies relaxing and coming together as soft snores escaped the both of you.

——

I always see posts about the other guys coming home to a significant other, so I thought I’d add my own thoughts to the pile.

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Endure

This is just deeply self indulgent, inspired by @mumms-the-word's fic featuring chronically ill Tav (forgive me please; I want to read it but I have to be mentally strong to do so I think.) So this is just... a little bit of truth from my own life. The diseases are from the setting, but that's it. So this is a little bit of me, fictionalised. Be kind, please.

'I must become a lionhearted girl, ready for a fight.' - Rabbit Heart, Florence & the Machine

Taglist:

@alpydk @boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana

@auroraesmeraldarose @aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard @silent-words

@netherese0rb @sorceresssundries

Tav stared into the campfire, walking cane across her lap. I’ll be alright, she thought. A tadpole is nothing compared to what I’ve been through. I’ve got this. Still, she felt the familiar sneak of anxiety in her gut. Now they were in the shadow cursed lands, and death loomed over their shoulders. Astarion was pretending to read a book, but she could feel his feline gaze on the back of her head. Gale was really reading, but she noticed he would glance up at her every few pages, as though checking she was alright.  Shadowheart was eavesdropping on Wyll and Karlach’s conversation, Lae’zel apparently uninterested in socialising, engrossed as she was in a githyanki slate. So Tav sat alone, thinking.

Why did you bring me back? She closed her eyes, furrowing her brow. I never asked for any of this. I’ve been so strong for you my entire life and you let this happen to me. Why? Without warning, tears slid silently down her cheeks. She heard the soft thud of books closing and felt Gale and Astarion settle on either side of her. Astarion’s cool fingers stroked her back soothingly as Gale reached for her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles, both of them comforting in the ways they could. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, not even opening her eyes to look at them.

‘Pish posh,’ said Gale softly, nudging her shoulder. ‘You don’t need to lie.’

‘Just having a crisis of faith, I suppose,’ she said, sniffing and opening her eyes. She wiped fiercely at them with her free hand. ‘Hating my lot in life a little bit tonight.’ She sighed, deep and tired. ‘I thought you could choose your deity. Not me. I was plucked from the brink of death, and I’ve been fucked ever since.’

‘The gods are bastards and wretches,’ said Astarion bitterly.

Tav shrugged. ‘Without him I’d be dead. Still, it’s not like he’s offered me a bounty of beauty or particular skill or-’ she gestured vaguely, ‘-magic. It’s just been a litany of hurts. I’m tired.’

‘I never asked,’ said Gale. ‘About…’ He gestured to the cane.

‘Don’t you dare pity me,’ she said through her teeth. ‘I hate it.’

‘I wasn’t. I just want to know what you’ve been through. And not from some kind of morbid curiosity either. You’ll forgive my bleeding heart if I hate seeing my friends in pain.’

‘It’s not good form to ask these things,’ said Astarion tersely. ‘But then you always were incredibly intelligent and breathtakingly stupid, Gale.’

Tav almost laughed, a single huff of air from her mouth. ‘Sure, I’ll tell you. But remember you asked.’ Dimly aware the camp had quieted, and her audience was beyond the wizard and the elf, she spoke to the flames. ‘I was born too early for anyone to expect me to survive. My lungs didn’t function, there was a stutter in my heartbeat, internal bleeding on the brain, all that. I had some necrosis and blacklung and even spotted plague, all at once could you believe it? I should’ve been dead five times over. I was put through my paces. I don’t know how or why I made it and sometimes I wish I hadn’t. But I did. And I got to grow up.’ A bitter edge crept into her voice. ‘And then something happened to me later, some people happened to me, and now I’m in pain all the time. It never goes away. I can manage it, on a good day, with rest and the odd spell. Potions don't work for me at all. I can’t do too much though, you see.’ Her face hardened. ‘Because the god who refused to let me die was Ilmater. My suffering is divine. I can’t even walk away because I owe him my very existence. How does a baby bargain with a god like that? So I push on. I endure, because I must.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Gale. ‘I empathise, believe me.’

‘Right,’ Tav said, voice softening a little bit. ‘The orb.’

He nodded. ‘Still. Self inflicted. It’s different.’

‘Yeah.’

‘If I’d known…’ he continued.

‘You wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it and you can’t now,’ she snapped. ‘I appreciate it Gale, I really do, but this is just my life. And now we have these things.’ Jabbing her finger at her forehead she set her jaw in determination. ‘I’ve been through worse. Doubtless we all have. We’re going to win this fight. We don’t have a choice.’

‘Hear hear,’ said Karlach softly.

‘You deserve more credit,’ said Astarion. ‘You’re strong.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘I don’t want to be though. I want to be soft. I want to rest.’

‘You don’t have to do this alone,’ said Wyll, sitting across the fire from her. ‘You have us now.’ His smile was so gentle it broke her heart.

‘Your endurance is admirable,’ said Lae’zel, sitting on Astarion’s other side.

‘For once I agree with you, Lae’zel.’ Shadowheart stayed back from the fire until Karlach grabbed her wrist and plonked her down next to her.

‘Any spells or potions you need, I’ve got you,’ said Gale. ‘It’s the least I can do given you helped me with my condition.’

‘Sweet as that is Gale, perhaps you could start with dinner? Karlach’s stomach is snarling like an angry bugbear,’ said Astarion lightly.

‘I saw that archdruid whittling in the grove earlier,’ said Shadowheart. ‘Maybe he could make you a new cane.’

Tav looked down at the cane in her lap. It was crudely hewn and splintered; she’d done it herself. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Yeah, maybe I should ask him.’

[christ-and-love]

" "Well, [being Christian] certainly has to be personal experience, but I did read myself back into faith. It was history, reading the story of the Jews in time and realizing that there was no rational explanation for the survival of the Jewish people. It was the biggest mystery history ever offered me how did these people survive? That was the beginning. And then the second big mystery was this: How in the world did Christianity spread the way it did, to become an international religion by A.D. 110? How did that happen? In trying to answer those two questions, I read myself back into belief. And then belief came” -Anne Rice

If I’m not mistaken, C.S Lewis also came to faith through research. I love love love this quote because to be completely honest, God has never been anti-science or anti-history. He created it, you don’t think he wants His children to enjoy discovering it deeper? Believing in science does not mean that God doesn’t exist. It’s more proof. The complexity of the universe is more proof.

There’s a quote I heard once I don’t remember from who that said “science does not say there is no god, **scientists** say there is no god.”

But again, faith without seeing, and faith without proof is a very important thing to have. But it’s not like we also don’t have proof. And personal experiences with Him. We very much do.

Proverbs 25:2 "God's glory is to conceal a matter, and the king's glory is to investigate a matter."

"Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see." - Hebrews 11:1.

“Because you have seen me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed" in John 20:29

[monstersdownthepath]

Herald of Calistria: The Menotherian

CR 15

Chaotic Neutral Large Outsider

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 280

Calistria's greatest agent and one of her most potent assassins, the Menotherian is almost always on one mission or errand or another in the Material Plane, and is noted to be "completely bereft of morals," a terrifying sentence when used to describe a normal human being, let alone when describing a 14ft-long parasitic wasp with incredible intelligence, immense wisdom, and superhuman charisma. There is no creature the Menotherian would not trick, seduce, or outright murder at her goddess' command (including Calistrians), and the trail of bodies and ruined lives she leaves in the wake of her missions are awe-inspiring even for the likes of Norgorber's career killers (which is why the two gods get along so well). Far from a direct warrior like any of the Heralds we've seen so far this month, the Menotherian is a spy and assassin of almost unrivaled proficiency, not only having raw skill to spare, but a myriad of magic and resources at her disposal which assures there are few targets truly beyond her reach, no matter how protected they believe themselves.

About the only "mercy" one can expect in regards to this vicious vespidae is that she is explicitly a tool of vengeance and is only ever loosed in retaliation to harm being done to Calistria and/or her faithful... but this is a cold comfort to anyone in the line between Point A (where the Menotherian first arrives on the plane) and Point B (the objective marker), because unlucky souls in that path are free game for her to exploit and ensorcel in whatever manner she believes will get her to her goal. While she won't go out of her way to cause any undue death and destruction (if only out of pragmatism), you can safely bet that anyone who holds any ability, information, or resource which would get her closer to her goal will have her talons (literal or metaphorical) dug into them (literally or metaphorically) before they even realize she's in the room.

It all starts with a strangely alluring elf walking through the door, an elf with a curious air about them which makes people trust them for a reason they can't quite place...

The Menotherian's first and most dangerous tool is her deceptive Alluring Scent, a toxin that lowers inhibitions and makes even the most jaded loners open up. The scent works no matter what form the wasp woman is in, wafting 30ft out from her in every direction and forcing anyone who catches a whiff of it to make a DC 25 Fortitude save or have their mood towards the big bug adjust one step closer to friendly. Not only is there no 24 hour immunity clause on this ability, it stacks with itself; anyone who remains in the aura or who exits and re-enters must make the save once per minute to avoid having their attitudes adjusted another step towards friendly, allowing the Menotherian to gradually control the moods of anyone she lingers near until they're head-over-heels for her.

She doesn't even have to speak, just be closeby and let her aroma do all the work! But if she's in a hurry, she's got Suggestion 5/day to either command someone to keep close enough for her scent to take hold of their minds, or to advance her own agenda with little difficulty. You'd think she'd have Charm Person at her disposal, but between her Alluring Scent and her +23 to all three of the main Face skills, she's practically got it built in whenever she speaks. Her Suggestion is actually the ONLY direct manipulative spell she has, with the rest of her magic either aiding in direct subtlety, her spy efforts, or in combat.

She's able to passably masquerade as a cleric, even of another faith if she must, able to use Cure Moderate Wounds and Remove Disease 5/day, along with Neutralize Poison and Dispel Magic both at will. While most of these spells DO have use for her (though she's immune to both disease and poison), they're MUCH more useful in securing favors from others, exchanging cures for what ails someone for information or some form of assistance. If there are no problems, she can easily make some, because spell-likes have no components and thus no one can easily spot she's the one suddenly responsible for an Summon Swarm erupting from nearby, or a heavy object suddenly falling onto someone (via Telekinesis), or if a sudden sting from an unusual wasp causes some incredible muscular pain that only this gorgeous knockout of an elf that came from nowhere can help with...

Crushing Despair may not seem like a social spell, but if you and your buddies are suddenly feeling sad enough to, say, have a -2 penalty to all your saves, and then this GORGEOUS knockout of an elf comes walking in promising to make you feel better (by dispelling it), well... It becomes much more difficult to ignore her requests, even when they begin getting less innocuous and more pointed, more determined. And if you resist, you may find yourself under her Suggestion spell and forced to, or worse: outright Mind Controlled.

This dangerous ability is one of her most potent tools available but also one of her most overt, as to use it, she must... well, the book says "inject her scent" into the brain of a willing or helpless creature, but there's no mention of how or via which orifice, so for the sake of your sanity and mine I choose to believe it's a deep, almost uncomfortably lengthy kiss. Since a target can be willing OR helpless, she can use it on targets she's knocked out with some form of damage, victims she's taken hold of with her allure or her magic, or creatures she's had bound by minions she's already gotten under her thrall. A DC 25 Fortitude save resists this overt control, but there's no stated limit to the number of times she can do it, so a victim may just be smooched until their brain melts away and they become her servant for the day.

Once the chemical cocktail takes hold, victims are Dominated for 24 entire hours, forced to follow the wasp's verbal commands as perfectly as they can. Though this effect is potent, it does require her to be nearby... unless she gives a thorough instruction beforehand, sending her new wind-up soldier off and out of sight. Since she's able to do this to as many helpless or willing targets as she can gain access to, and victims become more willing the longer they're around her... well, things just look worse and worse for whatever her objective is.

Honestly, to any party trying to combat her, the most frustrating bit may be trying to get through her enthralled minions and avoiding becoming said minions in the first place. If a battle breaks out between her pawns and the party, she can Teleport 5/day and Dimension Door at-will besides (both of which are good for infiltration missions but great as escape tools), likely leaving parties frustrated until they can Dimensional Lock her down and force her into battle.

At which point, y'know, now they have to deal with a gigantic wasp. A wasp likely surrounded by more wasps via Summon Swarm or Insect Plague. So uh, RIP to the entomophobic party members?

The Menotherian's full combat form is basically exactly what you'd expect, with the surprising exception of her lacking both Flyby Attack or a reasonable fly speed, as she CAN fly 50ft a round, but only poorly. This is a ground-bound wasp, and she's got to get uncomfortably close to her victims to actually harm them, because despite being a Large creature she possesses only 5ft of reach. This is somewhat mitigated by her Step Up feat letting her follow people trying to get away, but getting out of her reach still cuts her offense down considerably. She's got a CCB (1d6+9 and 1d8+9), but you may correctly surmise that her most dangerous attack is the stinger the length of a man's arm, which deals 2d8+9 damage and injects victims with a poison that deals 1d3 Dex damage a round for up to 6 rounds. Hey, you know what happens when you run out of Dexterity? Helplessness! And thus you become open to Mind Control.

Yes, having control over someone at 0 Dex doesn't seem useful, but such a victim can still speak and tell the Menotherian everything she wants to know. An especially useful target can also receive her 1/day Heal, regaining 140 HP and clearing off a lengthy list of debuffs, including ability score damage. Though she's more likely to save it for herself, having no Fast Healing and being terribly vulnerable to any status ailment that can sneak past her 26 SR, holding a Heal over someone suffering from any (or multiple) status ailments the spell automatically cures is some pretty extreme leverage.

And speaking of leverage, how does "stand down or your ally dies a horrifying death" sound? Because for special occasions when subtlety is no longer possible and maximum chaos is required, the Menotherian can Implant a cluster of horrifically swift-hatching eggs into the body of any creature she strikes with her sting once per day. A DC 25 Fortitude save is all that stands between that victim and outright death, because once implanted, victims are nauseated for 2d4 rounds, rendered basically useless as the eggs sap their strength. Once those rounds pass, the eggs hatch and the victim dies outright as a Chaotic Neutral Hellwasp Swarm emerges from the clutch and infests the victim's corpse, turning it into a puppet for the Menotherian. This gruesome death sentence is her preferred execution method, but if her life is in enough danger, she'll use it as an emergency negotiation tool; once a victim is Implanted with the egg clutch, only swift and bloody surgery (a DC 30 Heal check) or a disease-curing spell will destroy the eggs... and guess what this massive wasp just so happens to have access to? Five or six times a day, even? Best choose your next few actions and words very carefully.

The new Hellwasps aren't temporary, either. Not only will they join in the current fight to add yet another source of Dexterity damage (and another danger when hitting 0 Dex), but the swarm will continue to exist long after the Menotherian moves on to other prey, potentially making life worse for everyone in the area until a party arrives with one of these on their belt. No, it won't work on the big bug herself; she's immune to poison, remember? You're going to need a really, really big swatter... preferably, one that can pierce her DR 15/Lawful.

As both a side note and a closing note, I find it amusing that she has a minor 10 points of Resistance to Fire and Electricity, which becomes outright snicker-inducing when you consider her immunity to poison and at-will Dimension Door. You are NOT getting rid of this wasp with Raid, aerosol flamethrowers, bug zappers, OR paper+cups!

You can read more about her here.

[privatebooth]

Since I dived into the pool of nostalgia, why not go deeper?

How did I even decide to romance Fenris? I could never imagine going after someone like him. From all the things we were being told during the development stage, I didn't think I could like him. Though honestly, after Zevran I didn't believe it was possible for me to ever like a game character so much.

Fenris was obviously prejudiced, and normally that would be a huge turn off for me. It's much easier to get along with more open minded people. Still, out of all those characters Fenris intrigued me the most, primarily because he'd been written by David Gaider, and I had faith in him. Then there were talks about a new approval system, and it was said that some romances could only be done trough rivalry, and I suspected that Fenris (with a mage) was the one they'd meant (guess they cut it out altogether in the end, thank the Maker! Never liked the concept of Rivalmance, and what a huge relief it was to learn that it was possible to friendmance him as a mage!)

Dumb as it is, what really cemented him as the one was a piece of Gaider's interview, where he talked about Fenris's aversion to being touched and how he would attack anyone who attempted it - except for Hawke. And it wasn't even dependent on Romance. Like, Hawke was the only one he didn't mind touching him. Even if it was due to the game mechanics (what kind of companion would attack the PC?) -which could be written off as his respect for the leader's authority, in the beginning at least - Hawke was his exception. I admit, I am weak for exceptions, and If it's you it's okay trope gives me life. So I figured it might turn into an interetsing relationship, even if one of the characters involved was angry, antisocial and hard to talk to.

All these thoughts had taken root in my mind way before I actually met the guy. Didn't want to be spoiled too much, so it took me much longer than it should have to meet him. I did the Bait and switch quest sometime just before the Expedition. Missed a lot of friendship points because of it, but it worked out for the best in end!

So, Bait and switch. Even after all these years, this fateful encounter makes my heart beat faster, and I don't mind replaying it over and over. Just, oh my GOD, it's incredible!

Fenris's introduction is so epic! It's badass as hell, sure, but the way he spoke... It was not the voice itself which alone deserves an entire article tbh, but the way it sounded. It was so composed and steady, even as he ripped into that guy's chest to crush his heart. And then he apologised(!) and started explaining himself, and readily answered every question, calmly as a sea... Think I turned into jelly just then.

Maybe it's because of my own weak ability to cope with stress, but soft spoken characters who manage to keep their composure and talk calmly in any situation often enthrall me. I was listening to his every word with baited breath while asking every question...

And then he asked for help, and I was exposed to his puppy eyes for the first time... What marvelous facial expressions he displayed right from the start!

Yeah, he managed to win me over, though all those nuances were superficial. I had no idea how deep it would get.

[rineedagger]

Dear Heather,

I wonder if your laugh still sounds like a river of crystals clashing and reverberating. Or if you keep smiling the same; no one has ever smiled so symmetrically. That would be the only feature that would give you away, considering we've grown so different that no one could identify ourselves in between all this noise, faces and TLs.

Did you become a teacher or, instead, are riding along with the Bleachers? Because I've become a doctor and an avid bleeder. I believe you wouldn't be surprised, forthwith I can remember all those nights stargazing and sharing our dreams, like a summer night with a cold fever.

Your eyes shined like a fluorescent kaleidoscope every time you had something to share, and something to hide. Do you still listen to Chase Atlantic and Dayseeker or did you fall to the other side, like a villain that isn't psycho but lost her peace of mind? I've grown an obsession with Halsey, and left Zico on the bench with Peter.

What about your cook recipes, have your tooth turned sweeter? Bet you can remember those times where we've shared some clementines under the trees and washed our hands by the river after a brief sleep. Singing with the birds the songs of the fallen, and confessing our indignities to the beavers.

Wonder if you've found what love is about, since we are two romantic believers. Unconditional is the name of my God, and you well know that I work by my faith and words. He, a tyrannic force that absorbed my soul like a drowning sailor in the middle of a storm. And within a blink, I sanctified mortal's blood. But it is true that even our fathers won't forgive our sins and cyclones. So what can I expect of my best friend or my greatest love?

I won't lie to you, He still rules it all. From my thick skin to my smallest bone. However, life tastes fresher sober than giving in to the pressure. So I sail in the middle of the sea on my own. Since fights are nothing more than another language to understand us whole, only those who won't keep a score can remain on board. We are here to help us survive a wreckage, not to murder the fervency to remain real at core.

Do you still feel so superior or have you realized that you only have one liver? Please, remember that lambs and wolves bleeds just the same, no matter who were fancier or funnier or have more t-shirts to wear.

Dear Heather, blessed be the colors you painted. Blessed be the oceans we've shared and the twilights we danced. Blessed be the end as it started. Blessed be the storm you couldn't conquer and bless you and your life to prosper.

[dykealloy]

the catholic rejection of it all

[patron-saint-of-lesbeans]

When I feed the hungry, they call me a saint. When I ask why people are hungry, they call me a Communist.

- Hélder Câmara, Brazilian archbishop and Servant of God, as quoted in Peace Behind Bars: A Peacemaking Priest's Journal from Jail (1995) by John Dear.

[sergle]

I really truly, from the bottom of my heart, hate you bitches so much, because on the tiktok of literally COCK AND BALL jokes w brittany broski, there were a few notes/messages like this:

And I KNOW you don't think anyone's going to check. You had someone go into your askbox and say "hiii brittany broski is shitty about palestine she's really ignorant :/" and you went oh omg I didn't know!! thanks for telling me! So I checked! This is in reference to her talking in her podcast, because people were asking why she hadn't done any big press statements about Palestine, you didn't retweet this or that, you must not care, don't you care, what's your stance, etc etc please say more OKAY COOL. So what's going on there? What did Brittany say on her podcast? Is she a Bad Person? Can I have some transcript, please? ____ "Hey guys, before we get into this week's episode, I want to talk to you about the ongoing and prolonged suffering and loss of life in Gaza, in Israel, and the oppression of Palestinian people widespread. I don't ever want it to be a question that I would ever not be against the oppression of any group of people, that I would ever stand on the side of the oppressor." "There was a lot of fear of misusing my platform." ... "I will admit that I was nervous to talk about it, because I don't want to say the wrong thing. And this is too fucking serious of an issue to misspeak, or to spread misinformation, or to speak over or for someone." ... "So I want to take a moment on my biggest platform- which is this podcast, to say that I stand with the people of Palestine, I stand for the liberation of Palestinian people." ... "Every day, to log on to social media, and be just inundated with graphic, unimaginable violence, and loss, and grief, it's just--There are no words." ... "And I feel helpless. That's part of it too, when you feel helpless, the last thing you want to do is talk to people about it-- but visibility is a resource in and of itself. And I can offer that." ... "The outpouring of rage and passion online, and anger at what's happening, I would argue needs to be dedicated and focused on our elected officials. We live in a democracy- albeit an inherently flawed one- we live in a democracy where we have elected officials who were elected and put in power to represent us, and if we feel misrepresented, if we feel underrepresented in foreign affairs? These officials have public phone numbers and emails. There are scripts available online to express your disdain and your rage, and unfortunately that's one of the only ways we'll see actionable change."   "If you expected more from me, it's a terrible feeling- but I don't want to center myself, this needs to be all eyes on Palestine right now, where the real activism is happening. I would encourage you to follow journalists that are on the ground, people who are in Gaza, we need to be listening to them. I would also hope that we're at a point in this conversation where I can express my desire to stand in solidarity with the people of Palestine and that NOT meaning or suggesting or condoning anti-Semitism of any kind. There's a rise of anti-Semitism and islamophobia in the United States and it's just-- it's disgusting, and it's scary, so I want that to be said too. I just wanted to share that I am experiencing part of this collective sense of helplessness and hopelessness-- but it DOESN'T HAVE to be hopeless. I'm going to include a phone number in the description of this episode where, if you don't know the name of your senators or your Congressman, it's never too late to learn, and you can reach out to them." _______ Hm. What a bitch!! Yeah, just so ignorant and uncaring. Obviously she's not keeping up with anything. Should've retweeted more shit ig!

[trustypaladin]

"A Rekindling of Faith!"

Malevoversary 2024 | Sunday Prompt | The Order

[blujayonthewing]

[justafriendofxanders]

I think Buffy and Angel as shows ultimately reject the concept of the "redemption arc" as a journey from point A to point B where, at the end of it, you can "earn" some kind of absolution. I know some people take issue with Spike's sacrifice at the end of season 7 as an example of this, but I don't think that's the case at all. I think Spike starts out trying to earn Buffy's love/forgiveness (see: the "Beneath You" monologue -- "Why does a man do what he mustn't? For her. To be hers."), but I think their ending ("I love you." / "No you don't. But thanks for saying it.") is ultimately about Spike rejecting the idea that he's doing this for any motive other than simply doing the right thing. Ironically, he's "redeemed" when he accepts that there's no redemption at all.

I also don't think this means Buffy doesn't love him in that exchange. I think the very act of saying "I love you" to someone who has done the unforgiveable is itself an act of love and compassion, and I think that love is what makes Spike's growth possible. I think that's the gratitude at the crux of "Thanks for saying it," which is a thanks for loving him and seeing the good in him, so that he might get to the point where he doesn't need it.

Ultimately at the heart of Buffy's sacrifice at the end of S5 ("The hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live.") and in the Slayer activation spell ("Are you ready to be strong?") is about a kind of boundless love that's given to other people whether or not they "deserve" it. It's the kind of love that takes strength to give, and it's the kind of love that makes people stronger for having received it.

This is also the lesson Angel (the character) takes from Buffy (the TV show and the character) onto ATS. Both he and Spike are "saved" by Buffy's love, which is to say that through it, they realize there's no being saved at all. Living is both the punishment and the gift, but mostly it's just living and trying to do the right thing. Every day. Even when it's hard, even when there's no reward or hope of redemption.

There's various plot points that deal with this on ATS, big and small, but I think the finale captures this the best. First when Angel signs away his chance at being redeemed by the Shanshu, and second when the final episode ends just as the battle is ramping up. Like, that's the point! There's no end to the fight. You fight and you live even when there's nothing to be gained from it.

For shows that are to varying degrees overtly or covertly anti-organized religion, they're very much about faith and salvation; they just take the stance that 1. there's no being saved, 2. the only way you can realize that is through love, 3. which is to say that love is what saves us. It's just that the source of that love is from ordinary people, and that we have the capacity to give it as much as we have to receive it.

[deservedgrace]

something that i've been struggling to articulate but has been bothering me for a while is how some christians engage and interact with science and what i'm realizing is they have a like... almost love-bombing/discarding relationship with it. and i recognize science isn't a person and that's not literally happening but the christians that i grew up around have this relationship with science where it's real/valid/correct if it supports their side and fake/invalid/wrong if it doesn't. it's this like... engaging with science to get something from it when it can prove their point and condemning it when it doesn't. and this also ties into the belief that you, a layperson with no background in science, are more knowledgeable than actual scientists simply because you have god on your side, and therefore you can use science in whatever way you see fit, which means engaging with it in a way that is ultimately anti-science (but that also doesn't matter because god said it was okay). and it's exhausting engaging with these people for me because it's not that they believe all science bad, it's that they believe most science bad but some science good and they have the authority to determine what is bad and what is good, despite, again, not having a background in science (because what is a "background in science" to an all-knowing god that you have a personal relationship with?). the thing that is so frustrating to me is how these people recognize science is valued and use it to strengthen the validity of their points and to gain credibility while simultaneously refusing to acknowledge the validity of science as a field at all or put in any effort to understand/respect it.

[taraneeno]

frothing at the mouth over creloise.

I leave tumblr for 2 weeks (uni exams) and when I come back? CRELOISE??? ELOISE BRIDGERTON? AND CRESSIDA COWPER??? THIS WAS NOT ON MY BINGO CARD???? Peak regency sapphics? Oh?

And all the stunning fanart that is slowly coming out of this ship? I am EATING it all up. Hell, I might even join the train. Gorgeous, delightful. I am not even that big of a Bridgerton fan (I have watched it though and enjoyed it somewhat) but if anything I am more excited now. Do you think we will get a queer love story? Is it foolish to hope? Either way, what a wonderful surprise :)