#they are kind to the people they choose to be kind to i suppose.

[orcboxer]

Okay let me try this one again. The Trolley Problem sets up a scenario that sucks to be in. You either kill one guy, or you kill five guys. Nobody likes these options. We all don't want this be happening. That's kind of the point. It's a moral quandary. It's supposed to feel bad.

Now, according to a recent post floating around on tumblr, choosing either of the two options demonstrates "learned helplessness" and makes you a neolib sheep. The only correct answer, the post states, is to reject the question altogether. (Or to change the parameters of the question to include an option that saves everyone, thus eliminating the moral quandary.)

It sounds nice, doesn't it? Fuck this bad situation, we control our imaginations, so let's imagine a situation that doesn't suck. Hah! Bet you didn't think of that!

Here's the problem. Even though I think most situations generally have at least one solution that is both Feasible and Not Terrible, I have to admit that there are some situations (as in, not zero of them) where all the feasible options are unpleasant. This is a natural consequence of living in a world where A Lot Of Things Suck.

But if shitty situations do exist, even if it's super super rare, then it's not unreasonable to ask, "How should we make decisions when we find ourselves in a shitty situation?"

This is the beginning premise of the Trolley Problem. It says, "Hey what if you were in an unambiguously shitty situation? There are many shitty situations, so let's imagine one that is contrived enough to get everyone on the same page regardless of political affiliation, AND really emphasizes the key parts that I want to discuss."

Tumblr says "let me stop you right there. What if instead...we imagined a different scenario that wasn't as shitty?"

Well, okay, but then we're not talking about the same thing anymore. That doesn't actually count as an answer to the problem, you're just changing the subject to a completely different thing.

Tumblr goes on to say, "Exactly. That's the only thing you should ever do when confronted with an ethical quandary. Frankly the fact that you are willing to even consider a scenario that sucks suggests that you are fundamentally incapable of considering less shitty scenarios."

I just want to say I think that's bullshit. I don't think every problem is a trolley problem, but I do think that some problems are a trolley problem. And I think that those problems are worth discussing, even though they don't feel good. The trolley problem exists as a framework to discuss those problems.

Maybe our aversion to difficult decisions has an impact on our ethical reasoning, and maybe we should actually question how our ethical standards hold up under the weight of that aversion. So maybe moral quandaries like the trolley problem are worth discussing. And if you don't want to engage with the quandary, then don't - you don't have to concoct a whole essay about how the quandary is inherently morally bad.

It's possible that what you really want to say is that it sucks when people treat certain situations as trolley problems, when those specific situations actually do contain unambiguously feasible and unambiguously perfect solutions. I would agree with that.

But like. Let's not pretend that you can reduce all of ethics down to unchallenging black and white moralism.

[if-loves]

etude op. 10 no. 4 (torrent)

// Yandere Dr Ratio

Sum: When the rain falls, so too does your tears.

wc: 3278

warnings: implied depression, suicidal thoughts, implied suicide attempt, ooc ratio probably

a/n: sorry for the disappearance LMAO uni was holding me by the neck and not in the way i enjoy

also this was a whole load of yapping ngl maybe i projected too much xd

also pls let me know if i missed any tags!! i’d hate to mistag/forget any cw tags

likes & reblogs are appreciated! asks are more than welcome ❤️

As a student with the honor of studying directly under the one and only Veritas Ratio, you’re more than used to the bluntness of his words and his marking. After all, he’s the Dr Veritas Ratio, arguably one of the most intelligent people, beings even, in the cosmos, and you’re just a mere academic. Sure, you’ve had your theories and whatnot, but compared to someone like Dr Ratio you’re basically a child.

Everyone tells you that you’re incredibly fortunate to be able to have someone as prestiged as him as your tutor, that you would take advantage of the opportunity and use it to further your own studies and knowledge, but you’re not quite sure if furthering your studies is truly what you desire. Coming to university was already an expectation from your parents, who in their right mind would reject them when they’ve already saved all that money exclusively for your studies?

You don’t think yourself to be especially smart or gifted in anything. To yourself, you are just a regular person who will go on to graduate, find a job, and maybe settle down if you were given the chance. You don’t expect much for and from yourself.

However, Dr Ratio clearly seems to think otherwise; or else why would he choose you of all people to be under his tutelage?

It has been almost twelve cycles of the moon, and you have yet to figure out why. The agreed period of mentoring is coming to its end, and he expects a full length thesis and three separate reports from you concerning your studies and experience under him, and you cannot for the life of you think of anything that could ever satisfy him. In the whole period of his guidance, he has never once scored you above a low thirties. The more it happened, the more you thought it was more of a him issue than yours - but that’s what people who can’t take criticism say, so perhaps you’ll refrain from thinking that thought.

The sun had long set, leaving your side of the planet at the mercy of the night. In front of you, a too-bright screen from your laptop glares at you with a blank page, as if demanding you finally do something instead of staring out of the window wistfully as if you were some widow lamenting the loss of her husband.

It takes you everything not to just give up and curl up in the warmth of your bed.

With the nth sigh of the day, you woefully start typing, frustration in the pits of your mind. What in the world could you even write about, anyway? The spinning of the sun? No, you’re sure there’s thousands of papers written about that, similarly for the moon; you’re not one for mathematics either, so that was out of the question. Science isn’t really your forte either, so your options for a paper that would gain Dr Ratio’s approval is about zero. Maybe you should just drop out.

When the world is asleep, you remain awake, and so too does something else.

~~~

There are still a few days left before your thesis and reports are to be submitted, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve written utter nonsense.

What in the world are you talking about? Even you didn’t know. Something about some mythicised substance known as Xuixzedlm, that’s apparently supposed to be what the deep oceans of your world is made of, but none have been able to explore said oceans due to their size, toxicity and the creatures lurking beneath its surface. In fact, almost 99% of the oceans have remained unexplored.

You kind of regret choosing such a substance to be the main part of your thesis, considering how little information there is of it. Sure, the main point of a thesis is to propose a theory to be proved, but for something like this where the research is extremely minimal, you’ve ended up circling back to your previous points due to the lack of ideas and, of course, proven research. Not that he’d care about your excuses.

Your days leading up to the submission date are spent typing, deleting, and referencing your paper. You’re a little less stressed about the report because it didn’t exactly require the same thinking as a thesis did, so you managed to finish those in a week. You’d still need to proofread them a few more times to ensure grammar and whatnot was perfect, but ultimately, its priority was far lower on your list.

However, something odd has happened recently.

One evening when you had finally arrived back home after spending most of the day at one of the university’s libraries, you found a silver key with lilac purple highlights and a strange symbol in the middle. You’d asked your parents, but they hadn’t a clue either, leading to some concern that your room may have been broken into. There were a few off parts about that theory, some being that none of your belongings were missing, there was no evidence of lock tampering on your windows, and most of all, why said person would leave an expensive and important looking key on your table.

The sudden and suspicious appearance of the key led to you keeping it on your person at all times, for a reason you’re not exactly quite sure of other than because it felt right. There’s an inexplicable familiarity to it, as if it belongs to you, but you can never seem to recall where you’ve seen it before, if you ever have in the first place.

Another weird thing has been happening ever since you found the key - you’ve been feeling a strange desire to enter the toxic ocean.

The sounds of the waves splashing against the shore invites you in your dreams, and you always take a step forward, one step after another until the water almost touches your toes. The sun is setting upon you, the breeze gently blowing; the sight in front of you is the picture of ethereal. Just as you take one more step, just as you fall into the abyss, someone pulls you back and you are jolted awake.

Scholars say dreams are the subconscious taking its turn, toying with fantasies and fears indiscriminately. Sometimes they mix, giving birth to hopes that only end in hopelessness, happiness that only ends in despair. If this is true, does your subconscious desire death?

~~~

Veritas Ratio has always thought himself as logical. Most have thought the same of him as well, the rest thinking him some sharp-tongued snake that will not hesitate to bite them should he see fit.

When it comes to you however, he feels an unexplainable feeling in his chest and head, a desire that has only grown since the moment he chose you to be under his guidance for a year. His harshness may not reflect it, but it is merely his way of showing he cares - by being extra critical of your work so that you know how to improve. Veritas Ratio truly wants nothing but the best for a student like you.

Lately, this feeling has grown much in size and desire, leaving him finding trouble in resisting it. It lingers like a persistent headache, and acts up when you are around, leaving him in a constant battle for retention of sanity. His mental fortitude currently leaves him with the upper hand, but who knows for how long.

For someone who prides themself on being logical, he sure feels illogical as he stares at your student ID photo.

It’s one of your least flattering pictures he’s sure, but he finds himself staring at it all the same. The nuisance in his head keeps telling him frankly worrisome thoughts, but he feels no desire to act upon them… at least, the sane part of him doesn’t.

He knows there’s something special about you, and some selfish part of him doesn’t want this mentorship to end, to let you go. There’s no way of being able to guarantee ever seeing you again, so what if…

No. Irrationality has no place in his ideals, let alone in his life.

~~~

You’ve submitted your thesis and reports to him, and now you sit in front of him with your heart pounding in your chest. Is there anything scarier than the judgment of your teacher?

Your hands are laid on your lap, the key in your pocket. The coldness of it transcends the fabric of your pants, a constant reminder of the mystery it holds, and the thoughts it brings. Even now, you find your heart yearning for the sea.

You’re afraid to look at him. You’re afraid of what his expression could tell you, of the disapproval you’re expecting. You’re afraid of disappointing him once again, afraid of his rejection and the harsh words that will inevitably leave his lips. He will berate you once more, and you will be left to silently take it because truthfully, you know he’s right.

The silence continues, and you feel a sudden dizziness and the urge to throw up. You wish the sea would swallow you whole.

“I do not have enough time to finish reviewing everything today, so proper feedback will be given one week from now in person. As for the next few days, they shall continue as normal, as you are still under my tutelage. Do not forget, you still have readings to finish before tomorrow’s class.” He shuts his laptop and takes his alabaster head with him, once again leaving you to drown in the torrent of self-deprecation.

The sea embraces all, doesn’t it? It will lap up all those who dare to offer it their lives, no matter what achievements the person has made in their life, no matter if they are even a person at all. The sea… welcomes all.

(It’ll welcome you, right?)

~~~

After you left the university, you found yourself on the train to the beach. Night is upon the city, but the ocean doesn’t sleep.

People filter out of the trains one by one, until only you are left in the carriage. Announcement after announcement of stops and the sound of the train’s wheels scraping the tracks below it are the only disturbances in the otherwise peaceful silence. Despite the quietness, you cannot hear yourself. The key in your pocket feels like it is burning itself into your skin, but it is also the only thing keeping you awake, a reminder that you are still alive.

You wonder if the ocean too will eat the key, or if it will sink into its depths. Will you sink to the depths?

The train stops at its end, and your legs automatically move. You walk until you hear the sound of waves crashing onto the shore, until you are stopped by a barrier. In an act of madness (or is it desire?), you scale the wall until there is no more to scale, until you see the other side.

There is a certain beauty about the ocean that you can’t quite describe to anyone, that pictures cannot replicate. It brings you a sense of peace, like all will be right in the world. If you could just…

The jump down from the barrier is no easy task. It is a long way down, and the sand can only soften the drop so much; yet, you jump.

Something hurts, but you’re enamored by the sparkling surface of the water. It beckons you, inviting you to a new world beneath its surface, a place to be free of all worries and pains. A place to sleep peacefully, no nightmares or dreams to plague you. It offers you everything the world cannot.

You feel your bag drop off your shoulders, like a weight lifted. A hand takes the key out, holding it tightly as you walk towards the promise of a home. What mysteries will be answered by this new world?

You’d like to apologize to your parents for the disappointment that you are. You had neither the mental fortitude nor the drive to be a success, and you’d like to apologize to Dr Ratio for wasting a year’s worth of his time on an incompetent student like you. His time would have been better spent on honor students, not a mundane, average student like you. You are destined to be just another cog in the wheel, and once you rust, you will be thrown out just like everyone else has and will be.

You find yourself a step away from the water, just like in your dream. You think you see a door. The key in your hand burns hotter. The world pauses. You take a step.

The feeling of the liquid never comes, but being pulled does.

“Just what in the universe are you thinking?!” This voice… is familiar. This voice… Who is it? It can’t be Dr Ratio, no…

But those amber eyes, so familiar, it has to be…

But why? Why?

“I…” Words fail you, just like they always have. What could you possibly say to him? He must think you mad, unfit to graduate, unfit to live perhaps.

“Do you wish to be swallowed by the gaping abyss? For what? To prove the existence of Xuixzedlm? Do you think your life so worthless that you think sacrificing it for nothing is what will make it meaningful?!” He is… angry. You’ve never seen him like this. Dr Ratio doesn’t get angry. “So? Say something, anything, that could possibly help me understand why you’d attempt such an act of foolishness!”

“Why does it matter to you?!” You shout, wringing your arm free from his tight grip. He has pulled you far enough from the gentle ocean, far away from the door. You look back at it, and it remains floating above the water. The key is still in your hand.

“Are you so dull that you need to ask such a useless question?” He scoffs. He moves to grab your arm again, but you instinctively bring the hand holding the key to your chest, afraid that he would take it from you. His eyes, shades of intense amber, follow your hand and lock on to the key you hold. He frowns.

“Yes! Yes, I am! I am so utterly stupid that teaching me is a waste of time, that you should leave me alone! If… if I wasn’t here, then there’d be one less stupid person in the universe! Isn’t that what you want?” Are tears running down your face, or is the sky weeping on your behalf?

He stares at you, and his lips do not move. It goes on like this, until you are both drenched in the rain, clothes wet and only the tempting sound of the ocean, and the pitter-patter of raindrops blending into the dark waters. Moonlight briefly shines upon the both of you, and you see his face clear - there is no anger, only contemplation.

“If you have nothing more to say, then leave me alone.” You turn around and set your sights upon the floating door once more, the key still held to your heart. With a resolved mind, you once more walk towards the beckoning arms of the abyss, the promise of no tomorrow.

Dr Ratio doesn’t stop you until you are one foot in the water. There is a searing pain, but you are one step closer to the door, to a stagnancy that life could never offer you. You are one foot in the water when a familiar symbol appears on the door, like an eye staring at you. You are one foot out of the water when you realize what it is.

“You have lost your mind.” He says, pointedly. You struggle in his grip, but he doesn’t falter. If anything, his hold only tightens. The pain from the water is nothing compared to the pain of losing freedom.

“Let- me- GO!” You desperately push against his chest, legs swinging. Why couldn’t he just let you go? Why did he care so much? What value do you bring to him, other than more evidence that he is far more blessed than the rest of the universe ever could be?

“Struggling will do you no good. Stay still, and I would not have to restrain you like this.” He glares at you from the corner of his eye as he brings you further away from your salvation, and the final straw is when he wrestles the key out of your hand. You’re inconsolable as he takes you past the barrier, brings you to his vehicle, and takes you to the place you can only assume is his apartment.

You let him guide you to the bath and clean your injured foot with a gentleness that is unbecoming of him, and he runs you a bath all while you grieve. Both of you say nothing as he treats you like a child, and you let him bind you to the bedpost without any struggle. To struggle is to fight, to fight is to have a desire to spread your wings; you lost that the moment he took you away.

Dr Ratio, or rather Veritas as he insists you call him, has shown you such a different side of him that you don’t know what to make of it. He holds you at night like you’re lovers, kisses you like he means it. He dutifully takes care of you, and you do not respond in kind. Despite this, he treats you all the same, with no trace of the Dr Ratio you’ve known for the last year, and only of the Veritas that you’ve met ever since that night.

You never see the key again.

~~~

One day, he has packed up everything. You briefly wonder if this meant that he’d be leaving you behind, but to your disappointment, he brings you along. He has cuffed you to himself, a reminder of the rights you have lost when you let him have his way with you.

“Veritas,” his name tastes like poison. “Where are we going?”

“The IPC has assigned me to Penacony, the land of dreams.” He responds without hesitation, turning to face you. “Naturally, you’ll be coming with me.”

You want to say no. You want him to leave you here, to give you back your key, to bring you back to the sea. The scar on your foot is a reminder of what could’ve been, what he has taken from you, and you haven’t - or rather, will never - forgive him. He will never deserve your forgiveness.

“Have… have you told my family?” You whisper, your throat as dry as the sand on the beach. Your hands fidget, and you find yourself unable to look at him; but truthfully, you don’t need to. He has ensured that every part of him has been engraved into the depths of your brain, and carved into your heart.

“…There is no point dwelling on the past. I am your family now. Clinging to such bygones will only serve to erode your mind, and limit your ability to live life.” He is firm, sounding more like the Dr Ratio you knew. He holds the hand that he has chained to his own and brings it to lips, the band of silver gleaming in the sunlight. It is a reminder. A firm, cruel, reminder of who he really is.

Veritas Ratio is nothing more than an illogical, selfish, arrogant, cruel and lovesick beast who allowed his heart (if you could even call it that) to take the reins.

Veritas Ratio is nothing more than a liar.

[icemorgan10]

I will personally be driving to the desert and letting the scarabs take me

Cause god the bad kids are good people like just so fucking good

Ruz legitimately just taking stress tokens for his friends to just help them out

Fabien going out of his way to clear the air with Gertie so her and Kristen could be happy together cause you know he couldn’t give less of a shit about this girl but is willing to set aside his pride to make his friend happy

Adaine not even having to think about it before going to save Ruben from grix even if he was trying to get them to do drugs and in turn get in massive trouble only a few hours earlier.

Fig offering to be a paladin of Cassandra not cause she find herself devoted to doubt but because she knows it’s important to Kristen and will do anything to help

Fabian opening up his house to everyone not just the cool or popular kids for all then events he has but to everyone even the unpopular freshman kids just so they can enjoy it too

Kristen helping buddy dawn t. Not hesitating to reach for her revivify gems to bring him back even though just like hes told her she’s going to hell and has been less the kind to her. But she shees herself in him in all the wrong and despite how annoying he is she want the best for him or at least for him to have a chance to get better.

Gorgug willing to let go his rage towards porter and trying to see the bright side of his teachings even when porter had been cruel him not just the whole school year, but since he started going to aguefort because yeah in the end it did work out and he grew from it. And just choosing to let it go in give him good rating in his teacher evaluation

Fig seeing a god of rage and conquest the monster Lydia fought to contain and the the supposed bbeg of the season not for what her worshipers have made her but who she was. Not even knowing if she could truely help fight still wrote a song for this forgotten version of the goddess of justice making her best song of all time. Seeing the conviction and protection behind the rage and corruption and going out of her way to always reach out to that version of Ankarna.

Kisten going out of her way to try to help Bobby dawn. Despite him being nothing but cruel to her, despite him trying to get her kicked out of the school and being a prejudice bastard you could tell she wanted to help him and all cause he was genuinely worried about his grandson.

And so so many more. like damn for “bad kids” they’re all so fucking sweet and kind hearted I wanna cry.

[extravalgant]

i looove azteca from like. a narrative stand point

because we have this hero and thats you. were practically the stuff of legends by arc 2 just because of what kind of experience we have under our belt. we've never lost a fight, and it's assumed that we never will. that's how powerful the wizard is—everyone expects them to win, expects light to triumph shadow

and when we fail.... well. it shocks everyone doesnt it? people get angry. people get disappointed. to the wizard, who has never known failure or disappointment, it must feel like an entirely new thing. this culture was here for thousands and thousands of years—a culture and a people you never knew about until you were brought into the spiral.

and now because of you its gone. because you failed to save it and stop morganthe, its gone. and i think merle's passiveness about this situation hits a little differently this way—i read it more as disappointment, anyways. and to someone who has never known defeat, not to this capacity, with this many casualities and victims, the disappointment feels a little more crushing, doesn't it? the wizard is supposed to be a hero summoned from the legends, from a place not beyond a spiral where they had not heard of magic, and it feels like they let everyone down.

this imo is where morganthe truly establishes herself as a villain. i mean she already was a villain before imo BUT bringing a grieving man back from the dead to puppet around AND destroying a world is just straight up evil (and i love that). people like to complain about the malistaire bit which is valid in some cases but i think it really does sell the frivolity in which she chooses to go about things. like hey heres a man you killed with your own hands. probably when you were young. i brought him back from the dead to use as my pawn and now you have to fight him again btw. using a dead grieving man for my own goals. and then the fact that we cant beat him at the end, to 'send him back', is just another way she gets a leg up on us. she leaves us with unfinished business and xibalba destroying azteca is just icing on the already fucked up cake she's given us.

shes TAUNTING us. and this is important because it does come back to us in khrysalis—no doubt the wizard is still haunted by the sins of their past; their failure to save azteca. they have to get through this bit, to learn to let it go, before they can learn shadow magic. after all this, it's still stuck with us—our failure, one that she spearheaded.

dont even get me started on the wizard learning shadow magic maaaaaan because now they share one thing in common—they know shadow magic. they wield shadow magic. and shadow magic is so reviled that it's forbidden. no one else but her can really understand the isolation that comes with learning shadow magic, and it parallels the wizard and her even more because neither of them had a choice! the shadow magi turned morganthe into the shadow queen she is today, and we are subsequently forced to learn shadow magic and do the same if they ever have a chance at defeating her. i love it. i LOVE it. i love azteca... i love khrysalis....

[vodika-vibes]

Hi again, hope you’ve been well! I just wanted to see if I could please ask for a hurt/comfort fic with either an alpha arc or a null, your choice of who specifically. One where reader is an informant of some kind, but they end up getting caught and interrogated before trooper of choose comes to the rescue. When they do maybe reading is having a panic attack after being severely injured. Thanks and happy writing!

Abandon Ship

Summary: You’re a member of the Republic Strategic Information Service (SIS) though you’re not a high ranking member, in fact, you’re not supposed to be doing field operations at all. However, when your supervisor orders you into Separatist space, your options are follow orders or lose your job. You manage to get off one coded message to Ordo before you’re captured. And all you can do is hope that he’ll come.

Pairing: Ordo Skirata x F!Reader

Word Count: 1802

Warnings: Torture

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Sorry that this took so long! I think I have several other requests from you as well. I feel so bad that it took me so long to get to this one. Anyway, I chose Ordo because I love him, though it was a toss-up between Ordo and Mereel, but given the subject matter, I thought Ordo would be a better fit than Mereel. I hope you like it!

You huff out a near silent groan of pain as you slowly, and painfully, uncurl from the protective ball that you curled yourself into when the interrogator came into the room.

Eventually, they’ll figure that you genuinely don’t know anything.

You’re smart enough to know that when they do figure that out, it’s game over for you.

For a moment, you lay on your back on the frigid, dirty, and wet floor. Trying to work up the will to get to your feet, or at least to crawl over to the “bed” that you were supplied when you were thrown in here.

Calling it a proper bed would be an insult to beds everywhere.

It’s little more than a thin mat with some ratty blankets thrown on top. But it’s slightly more comfortable than the concrete you’re actively laying on.

Slowly you press your arm over your eyes and try to ignore the burning in your eyes (tears will not help this situation) and the stabbing pain around your ribs.

You shouldn’t be in this position at all. You’re an analyst, not a field agent. There’s no reason for you to be anywhere but on Coruscant, or maybe a warship. You definitely should not be on Raxus.

You shouldn’t be in Separatist space at all.

You cringe at the sound of someone screaming further down the hall, at least you’re not alone in here.

It doesn’t make you feel any better.

Finally the throbbing in your chest and abdomen fades enough that you’re willing to slowly push yourself to your feet, and drag yourself to the bed on the other side of your cell.

All you can do now, you’re only option, is hope that someone will come for you. Either another member of the SIS, or maybe Ordo will answer your panicked, and heavily encrypted, message.

And if he doesn’t...well, you’ll die here. And no one will ever know what happened to you.

This time, as you roll onto your side so you’re not facing the door, you don’t bother to stop your tears.

It’s been...you aren’t sure how long. Longer than a week, definitely. But you don’t have an exact number of days that you’ve been on Raxus. It’s intentional, you’re sure.

Or, maybe not. The people holding you don’t seem to be all that proficient at the more psychological aspect of torture. Though they’re more than proficient in the more physical aspects.

Your shoulders twinge painfully as your arms are twisted behind your back, and heavy binders are snapped around your wrists, and magnetized to the chair you’re sitting on.

It’s uncomfortable, boarding on painful. And mixed with the staggering number of bruises you’re nursing, not to mention the open lacerations that have been prevents from healing due to your captors rubbing actual salt into your wounds, and the fact that your captor decided that using a whip on you was the best way to get you to work with them-

Yeah. You’re not having a good time.

Honestly, if you weren’t in so much pain, it’d almost be laughable. It’s like they read a storybook on how to be the most cliche villain ever, and are following it like a checklist.

“So,” You slowly lift your gaze to the man standing in front of you. He’s a massive human, and honestly looks like he should be modeling for GQ rather than being an interrogator. “You have been here for almost a month. And you haven’t even told us your name.”

You just blink at him and a flash of irritation crosses his face.

He walks over to you and grabs a fistful of your hair, before roughly jerking your head back, “All of this can stop, if you just work with us rather than against us.”

Once again, you just blink at him.

He growls and releases your hair, “Fine.” He walks away from you and turns to the men standing near the door, your personal torturers. Although, you’re pretty sure that one of them is new.

It’s kind of hard to tell, since they’re both completely covered in armor.

“Start removing appendages, start with her fingers.” He looks at you, “Remember, girl, you brought this on yourself.” And then he’s gone, and you’re alone with your old friends.

One of the men walks over to you and presses a button, releasing the heavy binders, and then his boot slams hard into your chest, knocking you and the chair over, and knocking the air out of your lungs.

“This one,” He drawls, “is stubborn. Hasn’t said a damned word since we found her. Though we do know that she’s SIS. I doubt this is gonna work like the boss thinks, but I’m happy to try.”

He walks over to you and slams his boot down on your chest again, pulling a pained gasp from you, as you struggle to catch your breath and from the pain. He lifts his boot long enough that you’re able to catch your breath, and kicks you in the side to roll you over.

“You like your job then.” The new guy says, and you’re at least aware enough to note that you recognize the voice. It’s familiar though you can’t quite pinpoint why it’s familiar.

“Course I do.” The man who kicked you kneels next to you, “These holier than thou pubbie assholes deserve everything that they get. You’ll learn.” He draws a, almost comically, large knife and lazily presses the tip against your cheek.

The knife is sharp, sharp enough that it doesn’t hurt as much as it could as it cuts into the skin of your cheek. You bite your tongue hard enough that you can taste metal.

He pulls the knife away from your face and jerks your arm out to examine your fingers, “I think...I’ll start with the thumb.” There’s something gleefully cruel in his voice, and your eyes snap shut as he presses the blade against the base of your thumb—

—And then there’s the sound of a blaster being fired, and the sound of something heavy falling to the floor.

Your eyes open when you feel large hands on your shoulders, encouraging you to sit up. And you peer up at the new guy who’s kneeling over you. You want to lean away from him, to press yourself against the wall, but you just don’t have the strength to do anything anymore.

He’s silent for a moment, and then reaches up and pulls off the helmet.

You blink at him. Once, twice, three times. Sure that your eyes are playing tricks on you.

“...Ordo?” Your voice is raspy from disuse.

His dark eyes scan your face for a moment, before he brings his gloved hand up to press soothingly against your cheek, “Sorry I’m late, mesh’la.”

“I...I didn’t think anyone was coming.” You admit as your hands, bruised and bloodied, come up to wrap around his wrists.

“Well, I wasn’t supposed to. The orders we were given were very clear.” Ordo says with narrowed eyes, “You were to be written off as a lost asset.”

It feels like a giant hand wraps around your lungs and squeezes tightly. Oh, you think absently, there’s the panic attack.

“Hey, hey,” Ordo’s other hand presses against your cheek, trying to draw your focus, “You’re safe now. I was never going to leave you behind. We’re going to get you safe and home. And you’re never going back to the SIS.”

Ordo sounds like he’s miles away.

“Kriff, cyar’ika, keep your eyes open-”

He looks worried.

The world around you starts going gray at the edges, and you try to open your mouth to reassure him that you’re fine, but the world goes dark. And, for the first time in ages, you don’t feel any pain.

You wake to the sound of a heart monitor beeping in your ear, and the scent of bacta in your nose.

The lights are dimmed, which you notice as you slowly blink your eyes open. And as you turn your head, you see that Ordo is asleep in a chair next to the bed you’re laying in, his feet propped up on the edge of the bed.

He looks tired.

Slowly you try to sit up, but a sharp pain makes you hiss, and his eyes snap open and land on you immediately, “What are you doing?” He drops his feet and leans in to encourage you to lay back, “You shouldn’t move.”

“Was going to look for a blanket for you,” You admit sheepishly.

Ordo sighs softly, his large hand coming up to brush some of your hair out of your face, “Well, don’t. You haven’t been in a bacta tank yet.”

“I haven’t?”

“No, you have an infection and it needs to be cleared before we can stick you in a tank.” He still looks worried, “You weren’t supposed to wake up yet.” Ordo adds.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t be.” His hand moves to your cheek, to trace the bandage that you can feel there, “I’m glad that you’re awake. You scared me, cyare. I thought you were going to die in my arms.”

You feel a surge of guilt, “Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” He scans your face for a moment, and there’s a glimmer of sadness. Ordo’s fingers ghost over bruises, and against your lips, “My vod’e thought I was going to have a heart attack when we managed to decrypt your message.” He admits, “Cyar’ika, what were you doing in Separatist space?”

You blink at him, “I was following orders.” You say against his fingers.

Ordo’s fingers stop moving, and something cold slides across his face, “Come again?”

“My supervisor ordered me to Raxus for a field mission,” You clarify, “He said if I didn’t do it I’d lose my job.” You stare at him, “Why did you think I went to Raxus?”

“...your supervisor said that you defected from the Republic.”

Panic washes through you and you can hear the heart monitor start racing, “I didn’t! I wouldn’t! I had orders! I-”

“Hey. Hey, hey.” Ordo’s hands are so gentle against your face and the ice in his gaze thaws into something warmer, and for you alone, “I believe you. None of us believed what we were told. You need to calm down.” He doesn’t pull his hands away even after your panic subsides, “I’ll tell the others to do some digging, but we’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

“...Thank you for coming after me.” You whisper.

He leans in and presses a light kiss against your forehead, “You can thank me by getting some rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“On my life.”

You release a quiet sigh. “I love you, Ordo.”

Finally, a small smile crosses his face, “I love you too, cyare.”

[epickiya722]

Okay, never thought I would see someone say that Yuji needs to "learn that life is not like a story".

I highly disagree because Yuji definitely knows life isn't like a story. In fact, I'm sure he knows this before we, the audience, even meet him. Mind you, most of his life he was raised by his grandfather who is later hospitalized.

And right after Wasuke dies, Yuji's life takes a quick turn due to the incident with the curses and Sukuna's Cursed Finger.

Speaking of, Yuji knows life isn't a story because of his experience with being Sukuna's vessel. Not only his body was used to cage one of the most cruelest beings in the story, but he also had a death sentence placed on his head. And how does he react?

He accepts death. He accepts death as long as Sukuna dies. Of course, he first questions it because one, who wouldn't? Two, he is also a child??? Hello???

Why else later Yuji had developed the whole cog mentality? Because he knows how cruel life is! He fought Mahito, who is just a blue haired, stitched foil to Sukuna.

He watched people he cared about die right in front of him!! Again, just a child!

I think because Yuji does have a more positive personality, people ignore that Yuji is suffering and he is aware of that harshness of life.

You think Yuji fights for fun? Hell no! He fights because he believes he has to. He is not looking to be awarded.

He isn't trying to rescue Megumi because "he's a damsel in distress". He's trying to save Megumi because Megumi is a friend, another person that Yuji doesn't want to lose. Megumi is also another child, another human being. Doesn't he not deserve to be saved?

Oh, what? He's supposed to save himself? Megumi isn't a damsel. He's a child who just had to watch his sister die by his hands because of Sukuna, the guy who went through the means to suppress his soul so no. Megumi is not fit to save his damn self. And guess what Yuji would know how he feels.

(Also, separating Megumi from Sukuna would put Sukuna at somewhat a disadvantage.)

Just because Yuji was able to control Sukuna (unless something happens), doesn't mean he wasn't aware of his cruelty. Yuji, too, witnessed Sukuna's destruction by his hands.

As badass as the "I am you" scene was it was also a tragic scene to the Yuji we, the audience, knew. He accepts he is just another tool to be used to fight in an endless war against curses.

Also, Yuji does think for himself, just not in the way a lot of you think. Let's step outside the box here for a moment.

What's the word you think of when you hear "think for yourself"?

Selfish is probably the word. And guess what? Yuji is selfish.

I don't mean just in a bad way, I also mean in a good way. When you're being selfish in a good way, you're choosing to do things to better yourself so you can be healthy. You're not looking to benefit off of others for malicious means. In a bad way, you're unnecessarily causing damage to others around you for your own benefit.

Yuji does both. His selflessness is his selfishness. Yuji chooses to help others. He could have just ignored Wasuke's words, but he doesn't. He could have chose to lounge at the Tokyo school and wait for Cursed Fingers to be brought to him, but he doesn't. His choices are his choices.

Selfless choices because he's choosing to helps others without being awarded. He doesn't want to be awarded. If he did, he would be cocky about that "Tiger of West Middle" name.

However, his choices are selfish because he doesn't take in account about how others would feel about them. Just because he's doing what he's doing without malicious intent, doesn't mean it's not damaging.

What if Yuji does die with people surrounding him after saving Megumi? How about the others who grew some kind of relationship with him? Imagine if Nanami was still alive in this point of the story. He would be devastated because he lost a kid he cared about.

What about Choso? Yuji is all the family he has left. If he dies, what about Choso?

Yuji does think for himself, but not in a way to benefit himself (good), he's not looking to be a parasite off of others. But his way of thinking for himself also is damaging (bad), reckless on a way that he doesn't think about the aftermath.

[I touch more on his selflessness here.]

So in summary, just because Yuji is a ray of sunshine don't mean he isn't aware life isn't a fucking story. He's not naïve. He is just a selfless boy who is also selfish because he doesn't think about how others would feel about a child dying.

[fixingoff]

nct dream as angst tropes

THEME : angst aus

CONTAINS : idol!jeno, soccer player!mark, avoidant attachment!haechan, fwb!chenle (is it angst?), miscommunication trope, right place wrong time, nonidol!jisung

CW : talks of unnamed illness, suggestive in chenle’s part, betrayal (not cheating), injury, talk of death (jisung), reader accuses jaemin of cheating

NOTE : i hate the cheating trope, so i did my best to make sure none of them did that ++ i’m thinking of making jisung’s part a series, i’m kind of testing the waters for now.

JENO | distance. the idol life was calling his name, it was something he’d been doing for years. when you came into the picture, he assumed everything would be the same, just with an extra person in his life. sounds easy right?

when jeno went on his third world tour, you began to realize that it was hard to get his attention, and even harder to get him to respond to your messages. you would never make him choose between you and his career. not because you didn’t want to look like a bad partner, but because you knew that, deep down, you wouldn’t be the one he chooses.

and you were right. after endless begging and negotiating to get him to call you when he had the time, you two had the biggest fight of your life. some words were said, and ultimately jeno decided it was better for you two to go your own ways. he loved you, but he loved his career even more. at least that’s what he said before hanging up.

JISUNG | you were 19 when you began dating jisung, and you were 23 when you found out that he was dying. he wouldn’t say of what; you just knew he wouldn’t be around for long.

you were both mentally drained. not from each other, but from the strain this illness has put on you guys’ relationship. you both tried, it was obvious that you both didn’t want to give up. and you didn’t, but you both also didn’t feel anything for each other as time went on. the love was still there, but everything felt off. you both were too scared to say anything, and neither of you would say anything unless the other did first.

on a rather emotional and rainy night, jisung exploded. he yelled at you, claiming that you were only with him out of pity. you yelled at him, explaining that you were with him because you loved him. insults were exchanged, and so were empty threats. it wasn’t nothing you could handle, until he said…

“i’d rather you be the one dying than me, that way i won’t have to look at you once you’re six feet under.”

CHENLE | you weren’t sure how you ended up fooling around with chenle behind everyone’s back, vice versa. you had no interest in him until you noticed him one day at a party you were dragged to by your friends. he showed no interest in you either until them. maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the loud music. maybe you were both just bored.

everything was fine, until one day you were pulled aside by a furious and worried johnny, asking you if what people are saying were true. you come to find out that, last night, chenle got too drunk at a party and bragged about you guys’ sexual exploitations. word spread around fast of course, but not fast enough to reach you.

all day you heard people talking about you, calling you ‘used’ and ‘passed around’. but chenle? he was getting all the praise.

when you confronted him, he laughed at you. he actually laughed at you. chenle argued that it was no big deal, and maybe you really were the things people were calling you.

you didn’t see or speak to him after that.

HAECHAN | he wasn’t big on affection, or intimacy. you didn’t question it, because you figured everyone was like that. this was your first official relationship after all.

it was only after having a talk with his best friend mark you realized that this was anything but normal. you were supposed to feel loved by your boyfriend, he was supposed to be touchy and everything in between. mark suggested that you ask haechan what was wrong, and that’s what you did.

only when you did, it didn’t go well.

haechan claimed that all couples were like this, and none of his past partners complained. when you questioned why were they now exes, it only added fuel to the fire.

the night ended with you kicking him out, and only then you saw the first form of emotion on his face: sadness, as a single tear shed from his eye and he walked out.

MARK | you met when you both tried out for the soccer team, to which by luck you both got in. you both didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, and everyone on the team knew that. you both didn’t work well together during practice, and always took out your anger during games. but no one cared, because the game always ended with your team winning.

that was until, one day, mark slid in too hard while you were kicking the ball towards the goalie, permanently injuring your leg. it was the first time mark showed any signs of worry and care for you, basically nurturing you back to health. you fell for each other during that time, and have now been dating for three years.

however, one night while you and mark were out drinking with his friends, renjun accidentally let it slip that mark slid into you on purpose, and that it had been his plan for years. needless to say you were furious.

you lost your scholarship, your spot on the team, and your pride. after a bunch of yelling (mainly coming from you) mark mentioned that he immediately regretted what he did, but that wasn’t enough for you.

your life was ruined by the one boy you loved.

RENJUN | he would consider you two as star crossed lovers. so close, yet so far from being together. your schedules never aligned, neither did your desires to be together. relationships come and go, but it’s as if this one was stuck in limbo.

you both felt spiritually linked, and everyone would agree that you were. which is why renjun sensed something different when you began to attempt a new relationship with someone else that wasn’t him. he couldn’t handle it; the thought of you being with someone else was making him nauseous.

when your relationship ended, renjun’s began. it was someone he met in a cafe, that’s all you remember hearing before zoning out, not wanting to hear any more of it.

it was an endless cycle, you wanted him, he wanted you. yet, you two never aligned.

JAEMIN | when you realized jaemin no longer loved you, it hit you like a ton of bricks. you were both doing so well, so where did this come from? you tend to overthink, so maybe that’s it?

slowly but surely, you distanced yourself from him. it didn’t take him that long to notice, so when he confronted you, hell broke loose.

you two went back and forth for a while, accusations of cheating falling out of your mouth followed by pleas and scoffs coming out of his. jaemin would never cheat on you, that thought has never crossed his mind, but you didn’t give him a chance to explain himself, grabbing you car keys and blocking him as soon as got home.

but little did you know, you were wrong. if anything, jaemin loved you more and more each passing day.

but hey, you were an overthinker.

[menouthis]

Buck and Eddie as Miami Vice characters

There are discussions on social media as to why Buck and Eddie, who are just friends at this point in the story, are the ones with matching outfits. People wonder if it's intentional that they match while Tommy wear something more casual. I don't think my answer is going to fit in Twitter or Threads since they have word limitations there. So I'll put it here instead.

The short answer is, of course it was intentional. In the land of TV series, every dialogue, interaction, outfit, positioning, facial expression are set for very specific purposes. But to begin with, you must remember that Buck and Eddie are 2 of the main characters of this series. Any supporting characters are there to support the development of the main characters. 

Having said that, it's usually rare for a main character to get entangled in another main character's love story with a supporting actor.... unless the first main character is supposed to be involved in said love story with the 2nd main character. There's no reason for Eddie to be this involved in Buck and Tommy's storyline if he wasn't meant to be a part of that storyline later on in the series.

At the moment, it's fair to say that the most desirable plot point of the show is that of Buck and Eddie. It's the very plot that the network use to hype up the series and it's the one that gets all the media talking about the show. It's their Golden Goose.  The lead actors in a show are usually aware of what is considered the prime plot point of the series. They usually want and the first to be offered the chance to partake in it. Sometimes they compete to be in that prime plotline.

From time to time an actor will refuse a plot thread because they recognize another plot point would serve them better (ie. JLH with Madney). In the case of Buddie, it really is up to Ryan whether or not he'd want to go there since Oliver already took the other offer. I don't know Ryan's decision but if he does want that prime real estate plot of Buddie, then the writers will facilitate that first and foremost, albeit in a way that makes sense. The writers are not going to take that prime role and give it to a supporting character if Ryan wants it. 

Going back to the 80s outfit. Of course they are not going to make the supporting character wearing the matching outfit with their lead, especially when their other lead is meant to be entangled in the storyline.  And yes, Eddie is meant to be involved in Buck's love story. There had been too many evidences that support this ever since 7x04: Buck's obsession with him, Eddie showing up in Buck's first date, Buck mostly concerned about telling Eddie his secret. Buck transferring his attraction for Eddie into Tommy, etc. 

Eddie being the one who suggested the Miami Vice outfits to match with Buck was needed for the plot. It serves to highlight that these two are in synch with each other. In fact both men chose the same queer-coded Crockett to cosplay as.  At the same time, Tommy choosing to dress casually was also intentional. It's meant to show that there's a gap between his and Buck's personality. At the moment the gap is miniscule and inconsequential but this kind of difference tend to snowball later on in the relationship.

In summary, they will not stick Ryan Guzman or Oliver Stark in alternative plot for their character if both of them feel that the best progression for their characters are with each other. Tim Minnear have said before that one of the things he had to consider while writing the story is the need of the lead actors. No writers will give the main actors a B plotline if the actors themselves want the prime storyline for their characters.

Buck and Eddie were the ones who got the matching outfits because the story needs to serve them first and foremost.

[sixteenstrikes]

PLEASE talk more about DurgeWyll and Hozier, PLEASE... I am rotating the songs you posted and the vision is so good

thank you for asking me :) (the doors close sealing you in the crypt)

i joke. ok first of all i need to cite ten @bladesmitten as a resident durgewyll expert and direct you to his blog... she's written some incredible fic & analysis of the durgewyll romance and made a lot of gorgeous wyll edits and art in general, can't rec his blog enough.

i have sadly never played through the durgewyll romance & only watched it so there are undoubtedly story details i am unaware of. alas i have only played the tav version of his romance so far

some spoilers for durge beneath the cut. i tried to be vague but a warning there. also i didnt stick my oar into unreal unearth or any of the adjacent eps for that album .. sorry

all that being said here are my 2 cents

i think the main draw for picking hozier songs for durgewyll is that incredibly sexy dynamic they have of being each other's foil as well as each other's love interest. both wyll and durge are bound to an inescapable doom within the story: to pay with their body and soul for the fate of baldur's gate. durge must destroy it to please their father, wyll must save it. (wyll's saved it already, at the cost of his soul, and durge has to sacrifice their soul to destroy it as (redacted), but i wont go further on that tangent lol. its fascinating though.)

i think a core concept of wyll to focus on here as well is his faith. in his act 2 dance scene, in response to one of the dialogue options, wyll replies that he 'still keeps faith in the old tales of true love'- this is crucial. wyll is the man to whom the gods gave a cold shoulder. he has no love or faith for them. but he keeps faith in the old tales- he keeps faith, specifically, in durge.. 'his greatest adventure'.. and if durge chooses to resist their father's authority, they spurn a god for wyll's sake. there's an incredible amount of mutual devotion there.

there is also the monster hunter/monster dynamic. i haven't delved into it much here bc i am more interested in how eerily wyll and durge parallel each other as twin mirrors and exiles from the gate, the light and dark sides, sharing almost a common doom, trapped in the long shadows of their fathers.... man. but the monster dynamic should absolutely be examined and explored, it's fascinating. i think it's another compelling aspect of wyll's character. he's a man with a lot of resonant contradictions. a monster hunter who refuses to hunt the monster of baldur's gate and instead severs them from the one who made them .... a monster hunter who holds out his hand to the monster he is supposed to kill... wyll's love of the mysterious and strange and his kindness, i think, predispose him to see durge as an ally and a friend. not from naivete, but from an open heart

my hozier picks for durgewyll overall:

it will come back - i love the way the view shifts in this. one of my top durgewyll picks for the way it evokes a lot of the horror & tragedy that wyll looks into and doesnt flinch away from & the hunger durge has toward wyll extending his own lonely & friendly hand

shrike - i see this as primarily from durge's view. picked for the devotion & regret

NFWMB - applies beautifully to both of them. theeeee durgewyll song to me from andy's works... consider the lyrics from both person's perspective to feel the world open beneath your feet lol

as it was - ditto, i think it encompasses both perspectives. also one of my favorite songs he wrote so im biased lmao. i think this is another very resonant choice for the durgewyll dynamic

like real people do - feels an overly obvious pick but it could work especially well for a resist durge

no plan - could be an intriguing choice. i can't quite swing it but some of the lines in this for durgewyll... i like them...

you could definitely make a case for from eden for another from durge's view. gives me a feeling of a durge who's not resisting but idk

[music-oc-tournament]

1, 2, 3, LETS GO!

The tournament is back with a new theme! This time around, the theme is original characters based on preexisting songs! If you ever listened to a song and was so inspired you made a whole OC based off it, now you have the chance to send them off and have them fight in a battle of the bands! .... So to speak!

RULES:

1: Your character must be based on a preexisting song. This is not a tournament for OC's who are just generally music themed- You have to be able to point to an actual song and explain how your OC came from that. Other than that, it can be any kind of song, anything from punk, country, rap, to even old classical music!

2: The character you submit must be yours. You cannot submit other people’s characters for them. If the character is shared between two or more people, all owners must sign off on submitting them into the competition.

3: Fandom OCs are NOT allowed. We all love fandom OCs, but for this competition I don’t want fandom bias to get in the way. This also includes fandom related songs.

4: Please avoid triggering subjects. Serious topics in characters stories/backstories is fine, but please avoid submitting characters who’s stories involve bigotry, sexual violence, or anything else that might warrant a serious content warning. While there is a time and a place for exploring those topics, this is not it. This is supposed to be lighthearted! This also applies to the songs. Mentions of violence, sex, or swears are allowed though, as long as it doesn't require a major content or trigger warning.

5: While you can submit multiple characters separately, only one OC can be selected for the tournament. This is to avoid one person having multiple chances to win. This also means you cannot submit groups or multiple characters who are paired together. Every match up should be one on one!

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Propaganda is allowed and encouraged! Once the characters have been selected and announced, there will be a period before the actual match ups start where people can submit propaganda! This can come from the creators of the OC’s or even from friends of the creator who are familiar with the OC in question, if they so choose! Propaganda can be anything, art, writing, etc! All propaganda will be tagged as propaganda and as the character’s name!

This tourney is even smaller than the last one, to keep things short and sweet. I am only accepting 8 entrants! I will be personally picking who gets in from the submissions, it is Not first come first serve. If your OC doesn't make it in, I'm very sorry!

[s2pdoktopus]

I love my ocs to the bone I would choose to live forever just to not bring them to the grave with me but XD they aren't the happiest people. Or the kindest. I wish I could make kind characters... I want a character like Tatsuma 🫠

[quietwingsinthesky]

i do love canon amy & rory but god, does some part of me wish they really had gone with the idea of the doctor picking up a child as a companion (and then later, that child’s best friend with a huge crush on her.) with the rest of the season really not changing at all, except now it’s amelia pond with an angel in her head killing her and lost alone in the woods. it’s little rory who dies and is forgotten and becomes a toy soldier. if this is going to be a fairy tale, then let it be one. children have never been safe in fairy tales.

[mstrchu]

can someone else please please look at this set of images before i go insane

[moonchild-in-blue]

I'm gonna be meta for a little bit, but huge shout out to George Lever (Sleep Token's previous producer).

Like, don't get me wrong, I love Carl Bown (he's worked with soo many of my favourite bands and killed it), and I love that Vessel himself got involved in the producing process of TMBTE. The album is amazing, everything sounds extremely clean and professional, and very, very concise.

But George Lever? That guy has a way with music that just... It's very innate. I think One was self-produced (although I'm not entirely sure), but everything else apart from TMBTE was produced by him - and you can tell.

There's this very raw and organic feeling to his work that I think it's quite rare to find nowadays. Especially the drums - I really wish he could've been the one mixing it for the last album because man, he just gets it.

When I first listened to Eden, I remember thinking "man, this drummer is insane". But then I went all the way back to One and slowly made my way to TPWBYT and ket me tell you, Jaws' drum line left me flabbergasted. I know that George and ii have been friends/working together for quite a while prior to ST, so maybe that's one reason why. But they just work so well together, everything sounds so clear and crisp, it feels almost impossible.

This is not to discredit the amazing, fenomenal work done on TMBTE - there's a reason why it's my favourite album and why it gained the traction it did - nor to downplay ii's insane skills (as if one could ever do that, he's just that good). But George's work with ST is just so, so brilliant, and I really needed to put it out there.

It's been a while since I've checked in on him, but it seems he's a bit inactive nowadays? Idk. Whatever the reason why he's no longer working with them, or why he's a bit mia (or was for a while), I wish him all the best, and I'm just so thankful for all his hard work.

[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.