#truth be told- what you worship is suffering. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

palioom · 11 months

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Hellooo!! Just really wanted to say I absolutely love your fics they’re so good am always waiting for you to drop the next one 😩👌🏼

But just a suggestion!! I don’t know what it is but there’s something INCREDIBLY hot about a guy who really wants you to sit on his face 🥵 like he’s FERAL to give it to her and will go down for hours if he can and he will!! 😩👌🏼I don’t really have a specific situation in mind but I just need him to have a NEED to give the reader oral idk FKDKDKS

You can do whatever you want with this! Or don’t! Am grateful for anything 🥹

first of all I'm SO sorry with how long this took to upload! i LOVED the idea the second i saw it and I hope I could do your idea justice after such a long wait, I just didn't have the time for longer stuff with kinktober happening but thank you so much for giving me this idea!!

remedy against pain

summary: after being "gravely" injured, Oberyn knows exactly what would help him heal, and you are more than eager to give it to him.

pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader

word count: 4.9k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n (but many, many nicknames); fluff & smut; oral (m & f receiving); multiple orgasms; overstimulation; squirting; face sitting; 69; one small slap on the ass

part of "the viper and the sun"

• masterlist •

When she was notified of Oberyn’s injury that sunny afternoon, she was worried at first. All sorts of grisly thoughts came into her head - thoughts of broken bones and bloody wounds. Another deep scar to worship later, once it had healed.

All she had been told was that he had been brought back to their shared bedchambers with an injured back and knee, sustained as he was practicing with their eldest daughter, Obara.

It was difficult to believed that a girl of eighteen years of age could injure her own father in such a grave manner that he had to stop and leave the training pits altogether.

But as the nurse who accompanied her talked more about his supposed suffering, she had to try and keep her oncoming laugh hidden. Coughing to stifle her laughter, the best rendition of worry etched onto her features when she heard of what truly ailed him.

A small, moderately deep cut on the knee and a large bruise on his back from when he fell after Obara had swiped him off his feet.

That old man.

Ever a penchant for the dramatics, the immediate notice of his quite severe injury an exaggeration like only he could procure. In grave danger to meet death, at least that was what he wished for her to believe.

Oberyn loved to exaggerate his ailments whenever she was around, keen to have his wonderful wife dote on and care for him like only she could. With her gentle hands and words, her tongue spinning the sweetest words to help him heal while he lamented about how much he had hurt himself.

She knew every time that things weren’t as bad as he made them out to be, at least not when she saw him. Before that, she would worry her head off, the most grim images in her head until she found out the truth. But she played along nonetheless, and sometimes she would even find it in herself to tease him.

“The Prince is in a lot of pain, my Princess.” The nurse informed her as they arrived at the huge double doors leading to their private chambers, seeming extremely worried. Oh, what a mean man Oberyn was sometimes, making everyone concerned for him all because he enjoyed the attention it gave him from his wife. “You ought to tread carefully.”

She chucked quietly, giving the woman in front of her a soothing smile.

“Thank you, I will make sure to treat my dear husband with utmost care.”

The nurse bowed her head before scurrying off again, leaving her to go inside their chambers.

Carefully she opened the huge doors, flanked by guards on the outside, stepping into the silence of the room. They had drawn some of the curtains so not too much light was flooding inside, dipping everything into hues of red and orange.

She could see him lying on the bed, a wet rag covering his eyes, propped up on some pillows behind him into a position halfway between sitting and lying down. Not looking too miserable, if she had to give an estimated guess from where she stood.

“Oh, my Viper.” She cooed as she came closer, watching how his entire demeanour shifted beneath her words. Suddenly he did look quite miserable, creases forming on his forehead and the corners of his mouth turning downward just slightly. Like their girls pretending to be sick so they would coddle them. She wasn’t quite sure if they learned from Oberyn or Oberyn from them. “My sweet, sweet Viper. Are you well?”

Sitting down on the side of the bed, right next to him, she took his warm, broad hand into hers, feeling the rough calluses on it. With the other, she reached up to remove the wet rag from his eyes.

“My lovely wife.” Oberyn groaned, looking back at her, blinking a few times to adjust to the sudden brightness that flooded his eyes. “My pain seems to ease in your presence, my Sun.”

She chuckled quietly, her thumb brushing over his knuckles while her other hand brushed back his dark, slightly damp hair, then trailed down his face to cup his cheek. Always with a slightly concerned look on her face, but he could see the small twinkle in her eyes.

Oberyn knew it would be hard to fool his clever wife, but he could still try.

“I am glad it does, my love.” She said, smiling at him as he put on the sickest expression he could. Of course he was in some pain, but Gods, how he exaggerated. “Does it hurt much, my fierce Viper?”

The phantom of a smile graced his features for just a moment, vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared.

Nevertheless, she caught it.

“Quite so, my Sun.” He answered, his piercing eyes holding her gaze, and for just the briefest moment, she believed the pain he was in. He made her believe, knowing her heart was too soft for him to truly doubt him. “The pain is nearly unbearable, if it wasn’t for you by my side, I would certainly perish.”

She leaned closer to him, placing a soft kiss onto his lips, light as a feather as he was obviously quite weak. Warm and a little chapped against hers, the bristles of his beard tickling her skin.

His lips chased hers as she drew back, having to stop himself from chasing after them further.

He was in pain, his back certainly did hurt, but not to the degree Oberyn made it out to be.

“What would make you feel better, my sweet husband?” She cooed, sitting back up again. Still stroking his cheek and her pout bordering on mock concern.

His dark eyes truly began to sparkle at her question, his fingers flexing against hers.

Oh, there were many different ideas he had about what would truly help him.

But there was one idea in particular that would ensure a speedy recovery.

“The taste of your sweet cunt, my love.” Oberyn said after a beat of silence, a small smirk on his lips. “Nothing would heal me more efficiently than that. Nothing.”

She remained quiet for a moment, her pout giving way to a smile.

“Oh, my love. You are too injured for that.” She tried to imagine him wanting to keep up the facade of being terribly hurt, but also wanting to roll onto his stomach and delve his tongue deep inside of her. As much as she liked the idea, she was more interested in seeing how Oberyn would like to go about this. “I wouldn’t want you to risk your back by helping you onto your stomach.”

His fingers tightened more around hers, a fiery desire settling inside of his eyes. Desire and lust and a need, pushing away all the traces of him being too hurt.

“And you certainly cannot kneel with your gravely injured knee.”

Clever thing.

He needed her cunt against his mouth, had been craving the embrace of her thighs around his head ever since he had woken in the morning. While she had laid beside him in bed, sunken in a peaceful slumber, her magnificent features traced by the rising sun.

But he had decided to wait until tonight, for she had slept so peacefully that he hadn’t wanted to disturb her. And the wait would have made things so much sweeter in his mind.

Imagining her taste so much that he swore he did eventually taste it.

Maybe that had been why Obara had knocked him over so effectively in the end.

“Straddle my face, my love.” He said, already moving to pull a few pillows from beneath his head and throwing them to the side, making it easier for her to position herself. “Please, my Sun. Don’t deny your husband the pleasure of suffocating between your wonderful thighs while drinking from you. Not while he is gravely injured.”

Gravely injured.

Her smile widened at his words, pulling his hand against her lips once more and kissing each of his knuckles. Slowly, deliberately. Never looking away from his eyes.

Oh, how dramatic he was. How could she deny him?

“Is that truly what would make you better, my Viper?” She asked, feeling the familiar heat pool in her stomach, the tingling on her skin and in her spine, wanting him but not wanting to cause him further injury. They both could get quite passionate, after all. “Are you certain?”

Oberyn chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. If his back wasn’t hurting as much as it was, he simply would have lifted her on top of him, unable to wait any longer to have her.

“There is no better medicine than the cunt of a woman.” He replied, removing yet another pillow and reclining. Noticing how she almost gave into rolling her eyes at him. “Nothing better than the cunt of my sweet wife who is keeping me waiting, hurting.”

She removed her shoes before climbing onto the bed with a giggle, lifting her skirts as she straddled his chest and moved closer to where he needed her. Watching how his eyes sparkled with mischief, darting between her face and the apex of her thighs.

Oberyn found her movingly too slowly, his rough hands grabbing at her thighs and ass, pushing her along faster as a pained groan left him. Looking up at her, he found her looking back down at him with a raised brow, but he simply grinned, her knees finally on either side of his head, but she was still sitting on his chest.

“Oberyn.” She warned, not wanting him to be in more pain because of how eager he was. Her husband would break his neck if it meant he could fuck her somehow.

He simply chose to ignore her, coaxing her with his hands on her ass, his thick fingers digging into the silk of her dress.

“Come here, my Sun.” His voice was dark and smooth, desperate almost. So close to what he wanted, if only she moved. “Let me have you, I need your sweet cunt on my tongue, your sweet juices.”

She giggled, letting him guide her over his face, lifting her skirts again as she hovered over him. He looked ravenous and she could feel his hot breath against her folds, his nails forming faint crescent marks on her skin.

Oberyn didn’t even wait, simply pulling her down onto him, groaning at the surprised noise that left her; half moan half gasp. Expertly licking a stripe through her folds, his tongue found her clit and toyed with it. Flicking against it before he sucked it into his mouth with another groan, her hips bucking into him as she grabbed the headboard for purchase.

“Oh, Oberyn.” She moaned, grinding into him, one of her hands tangling into his hair and tugging on it. The vibrations of his noises travelled up her spine, shivers breaking out over her skin. Eyes closed and her head thrown back. “Gods, yes!”

While he started out slow at first, he quickly picked up speed, eating her like a man starved as his tongue sweeped lower, fucking into her quivering hole, his nose bumping against her clit over and over.

Like he had been denied this for centuries.

“You taste fucking delectable.” He groaned against her, one of his hands leaving her hips and moving up to grope at her breast. Ignoring how his back hurt, just needing her and her sweet noises as she pressed herself down harder onto his face. Just how he wanted it. “Exactly what I needed, my Sun.”

His fingers pinched her hardened nipple, making her whine and stutter in her movements for a second, her own tugging on his dark hair harder.

This truly was his heaven, his wife’s weight on top of him, her body freely grinding against his tongue while he took whatever he could get, lapping at her as if his life depended on it. As if her juices were the only remedy against his pain, a concoction no one else could prepare but her.

Suffocating between her warm thighs, her wonderful sounds muffled by them but still loud enough for him to hear.

He would have to make a habit out of this whenever he was sick.

But he needed her release above all, feeling how she pulsed around his tongue, how her movements became more erratic, leading him to double his efforts. He came back to focus on her clit, slowly becoming aware of how hard he was beneath the covers, just from devouring her like this.

“Please, my Viper.” She moaned, the words hitching on her breath as she looked back down at him, so close to reaching her peak. He looked gorgeous in the red and orange lights. “Oh, how grateful I am it wasn’t your talented tongue which was injured.”

He smirked, lightly grazing his teeth over her clit before sucking it between his lips once more, swiftly feeling her reach her peak right after.

Trembling on top of him as she fell into herself slightly, she still moved her hips against his face as his tongue eagerly lapped up her release. His name tumbled from her lips like a prayer, over and over as his fingers dug into her ass, keeping her close to him even as the pleasure started to border on pain.

And she knew, as he didn’t stop and simply kept going, that he hadn’t had enough of his remedy yet. Still needed more to sate himself, to heal. Circling her clit, fucking into her sensitive hole, all while he began to writhe underneath her.

Oberyn loved the shift in her sounds, more on the side of painful pleasure which he knew she loved, her senses heightened and burning a path of desire inside of her as he kept going. Taking what he needed from her, trying to keep his hips still as a sharp pain shot up his back each time they rutted up into nothing, against the thin covers which provided little relief.

She took a glance over her shoulder, her hips stopping just for a moment as she saw his cock straining against the covers. Thick and hard, all from him burying his face inside her cunt, aching to be touched.

Wondering if he would end up begging for her touch, knowing he derived just as much pleasure from eating her cunt like he would with his cock inside of it. That’s what made him so wonderful, being able to give and receive pleasure just from that alone.

Choosing to ignore it and see if he actually would end up begging her, she bit her lip and turned back around, his tongue swiftly working her up again, pain and pleasure bleeding together into one. A steady buzz that had her nerves aflame and her mind swimming, torn between shying away from and pressing herself down harder onto his eager and warm tongue.

He hurled her into her next orgasm, her juices trickling down his chin and neck while he hummed into her. His own sounds bordered on pain, making her concerned amidst the haze surrounding her like a thick fog, but she knew fully well that he knew his limits.

Hopefully.

Oberyn needed her desperately, the pain in his back almost forgotten in the nagging presence of his aching cock, the friction against the thin sheets doing nothing for him. Wanting to lap at her sweet, swollen cunt but also needing her on him somehow, engulfing him.

Her hands, her mouth, her tits - he would take anything as long as it meant he could keep his face buried between her warm thighs.

Reluctantly he pushed her away from his mouth just briefly, latching onto the soft, scarred inside of her thigh. Her tiger’s stripes as he called them affectionately, from carrying his children and the weight gain that came along with that.

“My Sun.” He groaned, tanned fingers digging into her skin and his eyes closing briefly as he dug his teeth into her thigh, humming. Feeling like he was getting drunk just from her, or going crazy. Maybe even both. “Gods, I need you.”

A giggle left her through the haze in her mind, catching her breath in the brief moment of respite. She loved when he got so drunk on her that he couldn’t let his lips rest even for just a second.

“You have me, Oberyn.” She whispered, flames still licking at her insides, her blood boiling hot. Acting as though she didn’t know about the painful erection hiding beneath the covers. “I would think you have me, your tongue was deep in my cunt just moments ago.”

Oberyn groaned again, more kisses and licks and bites bestowing the inside of her thighs in a frenzy. His wife could be such a mean woman sometimes, teasing him, making him wait.

Maybe this was his punishment for acting sicker than he was.

“My cock demands your attention, my Sun.” He rasped, his eyes piercing and full of lust. His hips rutted upwards as if to emphasize his point, a deep grunt following the movement. One of pain, and it made her wonder whether she should be doing this with him in the first place. “My sweet, please. I need to find relief in you.”

Hearing him plead her to pleasure him only fanned the flames inside of her, a whine escaping her lips as her own hips bucked up. She didn’t want to keep him waiting, but just how desperate could Oberyn become?

“But you need my cunt, my Prince.” She said, brushing his hair back without a care in the world. Like she wasn’t burning up from the inside and like he wasn’t aching for her. “How will you heal if you engulf your cock inside of it? What other remedy do we have that is better than my cunt?”

Oberyn licked his lips, regretting that he had taught her to be so naughty.

“My Sun, don’t tease your bruised and sick husband like this.” He admonished, attempting to move her, but the sharp pain in his back swiftly reminded him that he shouldn’t. And he really did not want to miss her wet heat just yet, needing more of her. “I will take anything you can give me, as long as you do. Please, my darling.”

She giggled and Oberyn immediately knew that she was playing with him. Making a twisted little game out of his injury.

He would have to punish her once he was healed enough.

“Does your cock need me so desperately, my Viper?” She asked, laughing breathlessly. “I don’t wish to break my sweet husband in half, you are so gravely injured already.”

The sound that rumbled in his chest was akin to a growl, his patience for her games wearing thin as his dick throbbed with need in between his legs. Aching and desperate for her touch.

“My sweet, please.” He whined, his eyebrows knitting together as he looked up at her. Begging her with his eyes, so full of lust and hurt and desperation that she melted underneath them. “Turn around and let me feel the divinity of your mouth and tongue, my Sun. Help me heal, my Princess.”

She smirked, swiftly moving off of his face before turning around and straddling it again, feeling his strong hands grip her thighs as she leaned down.

Biting her lip as she slowly peeled back the thin, orange fabric of the covers, she let her fingers wander over his hot, tanned skin dipped in orange hues. Feeling his muscles twitch beneath it, teasingly slow as he groaned into her middle, tongue already back on her.

“Don’t tease your husband, my dear.” He whined, digging his fingers into her skin harder in an attempt to make her move faster. “The punishment for this crime is severe.”

It did nothing to stop her teasing, only moaning when his teeth nipped at her folds, her fingers finally uncovering him. Erect and red and angry, the head weeping for her and throbbing as she ran a finger along the length of it with a featherlight touch.

Tracing the thick veins, his hips squirming and his moans muffled by her, she couldn’t help the small laugh that left her. Only keeping him waiting a little longer, she finally granted him his wish, kissing the head of his cock and tasting the saltiness of the pre-cum.

“Oh, Gods.” She heard him groan behind her before his tongue dove into her, eliciting a high pitched moan from her when the pleasurable pain returned. “You gorgeous thing, my Sun.”

Just as eager as he was at the beginning, lapping at her like a man starved, home from long travels through the desert. His hands keeping her squirming hips in place.

She slowly let spit dribble down his cock, wrapping her fingers around it before she pressed her lips against the head over and over, her tongue teasing the sensitive skin with tiny licks before finally flattening against it.

When she finally wrapped her lips around him, he bucked up into her mouth, a whine sounding from between her thighs. Immediate relief spread through him but he needed more, both on his tongue as well as his cock, her head bobbing up and down. Her thighs began to tremble, the slick sounds of her cunt as well as her mouth on him pushing her closer to the edge as she took him deeper.

Her hand wandered to his balls, heavy and warm as she fondled them, just how Oberyn liked it. Taking him deeper still, hitting the back of her throat and feeling another groan against her middle, travelling up her spine.

So damn close, forgetting to move for a moment as she concentrated on the fiery sensation that threatened to set her body ablaze again, closing her eyes and whimpering around him. The tightness of her throat only spurred him on, her weight on top of him as he finally hurled her over the edge, her sounds coming out as delicious vibrations around his cock.

Yet not stopping, giving her ass a soft smack to spur her back into moving, kneading the soft flesh.

She moved in earnest now, letting him slip down her throat and stilling for a few moments before simply teasing the dark head, kissing and licking at it with vulgar wet sounds.

How she wished to look at him right now, see his dark, piercing eyes glazed over with lust and need and watch him watch her devour his thick cock. Her cunt pulsed at the thought, his talented tongue keeping her nerves aflame, the pain it elicited only helping in hurling her closer to yet another orgasm.

“One more, my sweet.” He groaned, so close himself as her mouth worked over his sensitive cock. “One more for me, let me heal myself through you.”

A sharp whine left her, hips bucking against his face.

“One more for you.” She breathed out, her fingers wrapping around the shaft again and suckling at the head. Delirious and repeating what he had said. “One more, Oberyn- Please-”

She was unsure if she needed him more than he needed her right now, still in awe of how long he could stave off on his peak despite how sensitive and worked up he was.

When the telltale twitching of his cock set in, her tongue continuously flicking over the slit, she felt him focus on her clit, closing his lips around it and sucking hard. Just needing to swallow down more of her.

“Oberyn-” She moaned, dragging out his name as she spilled all over his face, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, trembling on top of him.

It triggered his own peak, groaning into her while he finally felt that sweet release wash over him, dulled by the sharp pain shooting up his spine. Still, nothing could ruin this, no pain would ruin the feeling of his wife’s cum all over his face while his own cock twitched and pulsed furiously.

Some of the white ropes laid across her cheek before she wrapped her lips around him once more with a groan and swallowed the rest eagerly. The salty taste spreading over her tongue, fully Oberyn.

Her mind swimming at the sensation and her body boneless.

They remained like this for several moments, his tongue tenderly licking at her once the waves had stopped, noticing the subtle twitch from just how often he had brought her to a peak. Her cheek rested on his muscular, thick thigh, still tracing the veins on his softening cock before clumsily rolling off of him and onto her back.

A breathless laugh left her, taking a moment to close her eyes and take in the warm feeling that simmered in her body, her hand finding his, their fingers intertwining.

A soothing gesture, grounding her in reality as she felt like floating in water.

Oberyn sat up slightly, wincing quietly as he took in her face, some of his cum still on her cheek, red and orange dancing across her skin from the curtains and he couldn’t help but smile. More than satisfied with what just happened.

Never would he tire from seeing his wife covered with his cum, the only sight better than this being when it trickled out of her swollen cunt.

“Thank you, my Sun.” He said, his thumb brushing over her fingers soothingly. Almost forgetting about his injuries as he laid here with her. “The copious amounts of medicine you provided me with are already showing their effect.”

She laughed at that, and the sound only helped to mend his bruised body, watching her open her eyes and sit up. Stopping to take in his wet face, the now tired but satisfied eyes along with the smallest curl of his lips.

The sight was something she would never tire of, her core still throbbing. So handsome, with the lines on his face which began to form, the first few silver streaks in his hair and beard.

“I am glad I was of help, my Viper.” She giggled, raising her unoccupied hand to swipe his cum off of her face before sucking it off her finger. “I generously received a little bit of my own medicine. Though, my aches only began after ingesting it.”

Oberyn laughed, loud and hearty as he pointed for her to lay down next to him. Needing to feel her body, though he wished he could bury his face in between her thighs for just a little longer, slower this time and not rushing things.

She shuffled around, bending down to kiss him languidly and tasting herself on his tongue. Then finally laying next to him just how he wanted, pulling the covers over them.

“I think in your case, my sweet,” he began, wrapping his arm around her and ignoring the pain that came with it. Kissing her forehead and just keeping her close. “It is simply that you are ageing.”

A playfully shocked gasp left her, hitting his chest with a quick swat and laughing at the exaggerated grunt he let out. Pretending as though he had been struck by something much worse than his beloved wife’s hand.

“How dare you treat your husband, your Prince, like such when he is in terrible, terrible agony?” Oberyn asked with a laugh, wishing he could crush her against him. “Do you not wish for me to be well, my love?”

She nuzzled against his neck with a giggle, peppering his jaw with kisses as she inhaled his scent. Still smelling like the training pits, earthy and sweaty.

“I wish for my husband to stop the dramatics.” This sweet banter had always been her favourite, laughing and jesting with him like no other. “Become the feared Red Viper everyone knows instead of letting your daughter of eighteen years of age knock you off your feet.”

The grip on her hip tightened and she giggled more when she realized that he could certainly not do as he pleased with her just now. Secretly she loved the dramatics, always worried about him but unable to stop her loud mouth and her teasing.

“Oh, sweet wife…” Oberyn sighed, looking at her. What a funny thing she was, too swift with her dangerous tongue. “Once your mortally wounded husband is healed, there will be a punishment in order.”

He paused for a moment, squeezing her hip harder, delighting in the warm flesh in the palm of his hand.

“A punishment and an apology. Perhaps both could be the same.”

She became excited at the plethora of things he could do, though she was quite certain about what he meant, her clit throbbing in anticipation.

“First you should heal, my love.” She said, entirely genuine, pushing her dirty thoughts aside as her hand brushed over his stomach. Warm and soft, tender and the most perfect place to rest her head on usually. “Please rest, let the medicine I gave you work its wonders.”

He kissed her forehead again, allowing his lips to linger there as he closed his eyes and breathed her in. The scent of oranges filling him, his body melting in her presence.

Surely, there was no sweeter remedy than his wife and her delicious cunt, the sweet relief he found in between her thighs.

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kirain · 8 months

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what do you think of this post about Gale? I saw it today and idk how to feel about it. h t t p s : // www. tumblr. com / galahadwilder / 741497332636467200

I couldn't disagree with it more, to be honest.

First of all, and I can't stress this enough, Mystra doesn't care about her followers. She cares about the state of the Weave and nothing more. If her followers don't worship her, if they're not useful to her, if they don't serve her purpose, they mean nothing to her. After she abandoned Gale, she had no interest in him until she realised she could use him to stop the Absolute—and she only wanted to stop the Absolute because it threatened the Weave. In general, Mystra doesn't care what people use magic for either, be it the most admirable heroics or the most depraved insanity you can imagine.

Case and point: Lorroakan. He is an arrogant wizard, far worse than Gale could ever hope to be, who uses magic for pure evil. When he beat Rolan, he undoubtedly used magic to do it. Do you think Mystra cared? Nope. You can help that nutjob achieve his goals, kill a demigod, turn him immortal, and give him free reign to abuse magic any way he wishes, but do you think Mystra cares? Nope. She doesn't. She doesn't care about people unless they benefit her. In fact, all three iterations of Mystra have a vast history of grooming, flat out 🍇, and the forced impregnation of unsuspecting mortal women. Despite being neutral good, Mystra is and has always been extremely vain, selfish, jealous, and problematic.

With that in mind, I'd like to break this post down piece by piece. Also, please be aware that when I use the word "you", I don't mean you specifically, anon. I'm more so addressing anyone who might be reading.

PS: Please no one harass this person's post. Their opinion is their own, and it's very respectful. At the end of the day, we're just talking about a video game.

Mystra didn't tell Gale not to juggle the torches. She didn't even tell him it was a torch. She let him go on believing it was a part of her missing Weave. Had she told him the truth, he would've stayed away. That's why he's so shocked in Act 3, when she finally reveals it's the Karsite Weave. He had no idea, and she likely never intended to tell him. She didn't before he went off in search of it, and she didn't the entire time he was locked away in his tower, scared and suffering. I can't for the life of me figure out why she wouldn't warn him, but I can only assume it's because she expected absolute obedience, or because she was getting bored of him and wanted him to mess up.

Whatever her reasons, she didn't tell Gale to leave the orb alone because he was "worthy" already. He clearly wasn't in her eyes, because he wanted her to see him as an equal. He wanted her to share her knowledge with him, which is perfectly fair in a healthy relationship. If you're dating a god and they treat you like a worshipper—that's all you are to them. A worshipper. A plaything. You're beneath them. You're unworthy. She told Gale to leave the orb alone because she wanted him to be complacent. She wanted to keep him in servitude. That's what she wants from all of her followers, though it's even worse when it's her lover.

In almost every story where a mortal loves a god, the mortal is either ascended into the heavens or the god gives up their divinity. And this isn't even specific to gods, but also vampires, werewolves, elves, and so on. Arwen, for example, gives up her immortality to be with Aragorn. Bella becomes a vampire to be with Edward. Hercules gives up his divinity to be with Meg. Elisa Esposito becomes aquatic to be with the creature. These are common tropes because it makes the couples equal.

Mystra contradicts herself by saying Gale was "always worthy", because her actions don't reflect it. He was a worthy distraction from her job, sure, but not worthy enough for her to treat him like an equal. So in order to prove it to her, to prove his love and devotion, he went after the one thing he knew she wanted—her missing Weave. Yes, she told him not to, and I agree he should've respected that, but this is on par with a woman telling her husband not to buy a bracelet she really, really wants because it's too expensive. If your husband worked extra hours and saved up enough to buy you that bracelet, would you divorce him?

Gale was completely unaware of the danger. He basically thought he was getting Mystra a bracelet. Had she taken the time to explain it to him, the whole catastrophe could have been avoided. He was just a hopeless romantic who wanted to surprise his girlfriend and prove he belonged at her side. The same girlfriend who very well could have made him her equal and shared her knowledge, but chose not to. Why? Because she's selfish. She didn't want an equal, she wanted a servant. We know this because, if you romance and ascend Gale, he will ascend you alongside him and give you your own domain! Mystra had the power to do this, or at least the ability to slowly ease him into it, but she refused. No matter how much he pleaded and proved his devotion to her, she refused.

Mystra did not save Gale when the orb embedded itself in his chest. He survived only because it fed on his gifts. He says as much, and so does she when you go to see her at the Temple. That's why, when we first meet him, he admits he used to be better at magic. He was once exceedingly powerful, but the orb basically knocked him down to level one. Mystra was perfectly happy to let him scramble to find items to absorb, knowing that he would inevitably run out and erupt. When we give him his third item in Act 1, the orb is becoming quenchless, and he knows his time is nigh. Mystra has nothing to do with satiating the orb until Act 2 and 3, and only because he becomes her wild card.

Gale: Mystra will consider forgiveness?

Elminster: She will consider ... what she considers to be forgiveness.

Even Elminster, her most faithful Chosen, knows her "forgiveness" isn't really forgiveness. It's an ultimatum. Do this for me and be welcomed into my hall, or die and literally go to hell. Why would Mystra make this offer? Well, because why else would Gale agree to kill himself only to end up in the Wall of the Faithless? How would that motivate him? Mystra didn't make this offer out of the kindness of her heart, she made it because she was desperate. Had the opportunity never presented itself, she would've let him die and suffer for all eternity, and possibly take hundreds of innocent people with him in the blast. She. Doesn't. Care. 🤷‍♀️

Now, one could argue Gale was asking for too much, but I'm going to have to call bullshit on that. First of all, Mystra showed him things no mortal has ever seen. It's only fair he'd want to share her world and learn as much as possible. Imagine if the Doctor from Doctor Who picked up some random people and took them on breathtaking adventures, but the audience got mad at them for wanting to see as much as they could. Amy, Clara, Rose, etc.—none of them could live a normal life after meeting him, and they wanted to learn as much about the universe as possible. But everyone loves those characters. They don't get mad. There's even several episodes where the companions call the Doctor out for not treating them as equals, and he admits he's wrong for doing that and adjusts his way of thinking.

I would argue that the only real divide between Mystra and Shar/Vlaakith is that Mystra doesn't inflict physical pain ... most of the time. That's it. Vlaakith and Shar only care about themselves and the effectiveness of their followers, but the exact same applies to Mystra. She is the Weave, and she only cares about the Weave; therefore, she only cares about herself. She had ample opportunity to help Gale or tell him the truth, but she didn't until it was convenient for her. The gods of D&D are basically the Greek Pantheon gods—a bunch of assholes toying with mortals, regardless of their alignment. The odd one is decent, but most are only out for themselves and their rule. Now, I will concur that Mystra is hardly the worst deity (in fact, she's unfortunately one of the better ones), but she's still not great and Gale is her victim.

To get a little controversial, I think the writers made a mistake. I know what they were going for, but I think they lost it along the way. At first, I was ready to stand with everyone and admit he belonged in the quintessential "overreaching wizard full of hubris" category, but upon researching the lore, getting to know Gale better, and doing several different playthroughs, I've come to vehemently disagree. First of all, before 5E (the current D&D edition), becoming a god was the ultimate goal for a lot of players, and that was perfectly acceptable, with many DMs providing celestial paths to make it possible. Moreover, many of the current gods were once human themselves, including Mystra!

Second, it's only hubris if you fail. Gale can ascend. He can succeed. Although it's not the canon outcome I would choose for him, he is right about the crown. He does his research and figures out how to reforge it. And he doesn't seek godhood to be worshipped, he seeks it to either free himself (and all mortals) from Mystra's chains, or for her to acknowledge and love him as an equal. His arrogance stems from insecurity; an insecurity Mystra herself planted and cultivated, and in the end he's not really arrogant atfter all. Does him wanting to be Mystra's equal make him selfish? Well, I suppose that depends on how you answer these questions:

Is your partner equal to you? If you don't think so, why are you leading them on? Why wouldn't you take steps to help them become your equal? Why are you holding them back instead of propping them up? If they show interest in your life, in your world, in the things you can do, why would you keep it to yourself, especially when you have the time and resources to share it?

Just some ambrosia for thought. 😉

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 tav #mystra #all my homies hate mystra

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youremyheaven · 4 months

Text

Frequently Asked Questions:

I get some version of these pretty much every day so I thought I'd make an FAQ:

What is my dominant planet/How do I find it?

If you knew enough about astrology and your birth chart, you would know which planet influenced you the most. Most people acutely feel a combination of at least 2-3 planetary influences most strongly. In reality, every single planet and nakshatra in our chart influences us but we probably aren't self-aware enough/knowledgeable about astrology enough to see how it impacts us. Each planet correlates to a different area of your life. Since Sun represents the soul/outer self and Moon represents the mind/emotions, its safe to say these 2 placements impact every area of life but when it comes to relationships/creativity/beauty, you channel your Venus whether you're aware of it or not and same goes for all other planets. Whenever you do something of a creative bent, you tap into your Ketu, your education is affected by your Mercury and Jupiter, so on and so forth.

If you're very new to vedic astrology or if you haven't been able to figure out your dominant planets, just let it be!! This is not a puzzle to be solved, there is no way for you or somebody else to mechanically calculate your "dominant" planet. I don't know you, I don't know what you look like, what your personality is like, so there is absolutely no way for me to tell what influence comes through most acutely.

Also, the concept of "dominance" itself is pretty much a made up one (thanks Claire Nakti) so literally, just chill out!!! Read about your placements, and learn more about astrology instead of trying to claim planets. You're influenced by your whole chart, its that simple. That's it.

2. Which website should I use?

You can use astro seek.com or the Cosmic Insights app or the Jagannatha Hora app. On astro seek, you have to adjust to "whole sign" instead of Placidus though. On the others, that's the default setting, I think.

3. Which ayanamsa should I use?

I stick to Lahiri

4. I have xyz nak/planet/house, am I doomed/ugly/forever alone/unlucky?

Astrology helps us understand our strengths and weaknesses, there is no placement that comes as a death sentence of some sort. I feel like most people don't understand that your birth chart is supposed to make you self-aware of your natural inclinations, tendencies, patterns etc so that you can work with them/make necessary changes etc. Your chart is NOT set in stone. Human behaviour is far too complex to be narrowed down to a birth chart. It shows your INCLINATIONS, which means that if you're self aware, you can make necessary adjustments to work on unhealthy habits/tendencies.

Astrology is not "this is who you are, you suck",, it's a tool for self-growth.

If you have difficult placements, you need to pay more attention to them and work on those areas. Why on earth would you just accept that everything is fcked and its game over for you bc of what the stars said??? Sorry to be rude but that's dumb af?? You were not put on this earth to be miserable until the day you die, EVERYBODY has difficult placements, if you remain ignorant of it/avoid it, you will continue to live in ignorance and suffer from the same things you always have and not know why.

Astrology makes it possible for you to understand yourself and evolve.

5. I'm not Hindu, can I still worship Gods/Goddesses/chant mantras?

Every single religion is made up. God never said only brown people from the Indian subcontinent can worship me. But that said, do your research and actually be invested in it. I feel like some people approach this in a Buzzfeed-y "Which Disney Princess Am I?😍" type of way which is 🤦🏻‍♀️but religion isn't something to be sampled, if ykwim?

You don't have to attain Guru levels of religious insight/expertise either. Most practicing Hindus probably know very little about their religion and truth be told, Hinduism is soooo vast, expansive, varied and eclectic that people practice it in thousands of different ways across the country with their own unique rituals/customs, so everybody who practices the religion makes it their own, in some ways?

Build an altar if you can, dedicate a certain time of the day and space of your room/house to just prayer. By making something sacred, we feel its divinity permeate our lives. Rituals are a major part of every religion because acting with intention helps us feel like our lives have meaning.

Always chant after you've showered, sit facing east, look at a picture of your deity or visualise them and chant quietly. Most people use prayer beads but you can also just count them on your fingers. Its often said that when you chant, others should not be able to hear you. If you use prayer beads, keep them covered in a box after use. You've energetically charged them with your chanting and its not good to leave them exposed because they'll pick up on other vibrations from the surroundings. Do not chant after you've just eaten!!

Picking a deity is all about intuition. If you don't feel called to anybody, just chill out and keep studying their mythology. You can always chant 'Om'.

I used to chant Buddhist mantras like 'Om mani padme hum' and 'nam myoho renge kyo' and they're not directed to any deity so if you're worried about that, you can always chant non-deity mantras as well.

The purpose of chanting mantras is to keep your mind calm and still. Even if you repeat a certain affirmation in English several hundred times, it has the same effect.

#faq #astrology notes #sidereal astrology #vedic astro notes #nakshatras #astrology #astroblr #vedic astrology #astro observations #astro notes #astrology observations

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spid3namy · 11 months

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Miles morales × F reader with like just in general body issues like shes not curvy with an hourglass figure and she's just insecure thinking he doesn't find her body attractive

(definitely not projecting 🤡)

pairing : e!42/1610 miles x insecure!female reader

summary : you don’t feel pretty, miles decides to help show you just how beautiful you really are to him

contains : fluff, angst, insecurities, projection, kissing, somewhat body worship, they are in their late teens, probably incorrect spanish, cussing

word count : 1352

notes : okay, so like this request was really good fr cus i used to suffer from being really insecure back in the day so this was lowkey me projecting like a LOT. also, there won’t be TOO much detail about the body type just cus like i kinda want it to be inclusive to like everyone. anyways, enjoy the story! <33

Ugly.

That’s the only thing you thought about when you stared at yourself in the mirror.

The way your body looked made your stomach churn. The way you felt as though you were nothing was a worrying known feeling that you were pretty much used to by now.

Shit sucked.

All the girls at school were so damn pretty. Each having beautiful traits on their bodies. Sophomore year of high school was when you noticed just how beautiful everyone but you was.

The guys were all over those girls. The ones with the beautiful long hair. Ones with those pretty eyes. Ones who had hourglass bodies. Ones who.. weren't you.

It was almost pathetic how obsessed you had been when it came to how the other girls looked. Why couldn’t you look like them?

Why couldn’t your body be curvy?

Why couldn’t you have big boobs?

Why couldn’t you be pretty like the other girls?

Those questions rang through your head as you continued to judge yourself through the mirror. Why were you so fucking unlucky?

“Oye hermosa! You in here?”

You jump when you hear your boyfriend’s voice. He wasn’t supposed to be here until later! You let out a noise and quickly grab a hoodie from inside your dresser, throwing it over your head before you emerge from your bedroom.

“Hey, Miles..”

“Oh there you are, I’ve been calling your name for like 5 minutes now. I was worried you might’ve not been home.”

“Sorry.. I guess, I got distracted”

Miles gives you a look before he presses a kiss onto your cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist delicately. You could feel your lips curve upwards into a smile from the affection you were given. Even if you were upset, he always knew how to cheer you up. He had always been good at that.

“How’s my beautiful girl doin’?” You try not to grimace when he speaks.

You’re not beautiful. He’s lying to you. He just wants to make you feel better. You’re actually ugly. He doesn’t love you. He wants someone else. Someone who is better and prettier than you.

That stupid voice in your head makes you want to scream. Why did it never shut up? Why did it always have to talk?

But you knew it was true. The voice was just trying to help you. To show you the truth. Well.. the truth you’ve made up in your head anyway.

“Mama, are you okay?” Miles rubbed a small circle on your waist; the feeling alone caused you to cringe.

“Don’t touch there..”

Miles stared at you in confusion, an eyebrow being raised and his hands moving up from your waist to your face. It was weird to see you being this way. One thing about being as insecure as you were, you never told anyone about it.

You preferred suffering in silence.

Besides, how was anyone really supposed to help with your body issues? With your insecurities? Sure, they can call you pretty all they want but could you really trust them? What if they were lying just to make you feel better?

It was a never-ending cycle.

“Mama, are you.. okay? Is somethin’ botherin’ you?”

“Leave it alone, Miles.”

“Y/N.”

“Miles.”

Miles lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his temples in annoyance. You always did this. Pushing things down was so annoying sometimes. Especially when all he wanted to do was help you! But no, you just had to refuse his help.

He loved you, more than anything in the world, but sometimes you were a little too much for him.

“Y/N, tell me what the problem is. I wanna help you.”

“By doin’ what, Miles? It’s not like you can just magically turn me pretty.”

There it was. Before you even realized it, you had said too much.

Miles stared at you and furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes scanning over your face before he took a step closer to you. You knew that look. That was the look he gave any boy that dared talk to you. That meant he was about to go off. And you sadly walked right into that.

“What?”

“Nothin’, Miles. I ain’t even said nothin’.”

“Don’t play this game with me, chica. The fuck did you just say?”

“It’s nothing, just fuckin’ drop it.”

Miles gives you a look and you instantly know how stupid you were for refusing to tell him. You knew you couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t show him just how vulnerable you are. Couldn’t show him just how much you hated the way your body looked. How you didn’t look like other girls.

He would think you’re pathetic.

“You smokin’ again?”

“What? No!”

“Mhm. Well, you must be high out of your fuckin’ mind to think that you’re not the most gorgeous woman on this planet. Besides Megan Thee Stallion, of course.”

“Ha ha, you’re so fuckin’ funny.” You roll your eyes at his comment, your voice filled with nothing but sarcasm from his horrible attempt at a joke. Or whatever the hell that shit was.

Miles let out a snort and took a step closer to you, cupping your face and pressing a couple of kisses onto your face. It was like he was attempting to comfort you but it was awkward to do so. At least, that’s the impression you were getting from him. You appreciated the effort but it really wasn’t work out all that well.

“Come on, jus’ look at you, mama.. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Miles, quit.”

“Shh.”

You pout and squirm around in his grip, moving your gaze away from him. He was so embarrassing sometimes. Miles continued to press kisses onto your face before his hands soon moved down to under your hoodie.

“Miles.”

“Don’t worry, mama.. I ain’t gonna do nothin’.”

“Watch your hands, boy.”

“Yes, ma’am..”

You roll your eyes but otherwise allow his hands to wander around your frame. You let out a gasp from the feeling of his cold hands moving up and down your stomach, stopping just under where your bra sat. He was getting a little too handsy. But you trusted him. Trusted that he wouldn’t do anything.

“You’re so gorgeous, mama. Especially when you wear those fire ass fits.”

“Mm? Which ones?”

“All of them.”

Your cheeks heat up from his comment; your hand instinctively comes up to push at his chest in embarrassment. He didn’t move away from you though, only got closer.

You knew he couldn’t make the insecurities go away. But he was doing a hell of a good job taking her mind off the reasons she was insecure in the first place. Sure, she’ll remember them later but that was a problem for when she got there. Right now, she just wanted to focus on him.

His lips and the way they felt on her skin. His fingers touching her body. His voice whispering sweet words to her. Everything caused her brain to just shut down and focus on him. And god, she fucking loved him for that.

“You’re so pretty, chica.”

You merely hum in response, your shoulders relaxing as he grabs your face. Miles looks into your beautiful e/c eyes and presses a quick kiss onto your lips, only a peck though.

“Say it, mama.”

“Say what?”

Miles looks at you like the answer to the question was just so damn obvious. And it was but still.

“Say you’re pretty.”

“Miles, I-”

“Say it.”

You let out a deep sigh and stare at him for a while. He looks at you expectedly, his eyes staying locked onto yours. There was seemingly no escape from this.

You scoff and roll your eyes before you mumble your next sentence, “‘m pretty.”

“Louder.”

“‘M pretty.” You repeat it a little louder than before, loud enough for the both of you to hear it.

“Good.” Miles smiled and leaned forward, pressing his lips onto yours. It was sweet; it had always been sweet whenever you two kissed.

That voice was still in the back of your head but at least it was silenced. For now.

#☆ namy writes #fluff #e42 miles #angst #earth 42 miles angst #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 1610 miles angst #earth 1610 miles x reader #earth 1610 miles morales x you #earth 1610 miles fluff

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remembrancer-of-heresy · 1 month

Text

Sin and Holy

Summary: Lorgar wants revenge on Guilliman, but ends up becoming obsessed with his lover, deifying her.

Lorgar Aurelian/fem!Reader (Roboute Guilliman/fem!Reader background)

Warnings: yandere, obsession, possessive behavior, kidnapping, religious kink, foot fetish, voyeurism

Author's note: Blame our mind worms of "lorgar foot worship plotline".

Word count: 2017

Song: Pet Shop Boys - It's a Sin

Everything I've ever done Everything I ever do Every place I've ever been Everywhere I'm going to It's a sin

The end of the perfect city marked the beginning of a new and better world. But not one world, city or even house is built in a short time. Everything requires time and human will. Lorgar Aurelian understood this while he was looking for answers to his questions.

And even with the acquisition of true faith in Chaos, he knew that victory would only come with time. He wouldn't be able to defeat the Emperor right away. Bring the gifts of the four gods to the Galaxy. Just like he won’t be able to get you right away.

You immediately caught his attention. Roboute Guilliman's personal remembrancer, whom he took with him everywhere. The sightless would say that the mortal girl is too talented. Envious people would laugh at the fact that the primarch of the Ultramarines turned arrogant. But Lorgar knew who you were. Chaos told him.

Lover of Roboute Guilliman. A secret that his brother kept from everyone. Even from the Emperor. If Lorgar had been quick to anger, he would have told the primarchs about you. Would separate two lonely souls. But he did not dare to do this. It wasn't time yet. But soon he would make his brother grieve and suffer. He would have destroyed what was dearest to his heart, as he did with the Monarchy.

“I read your poems,” you carefully strike up a conversation with the primarch, clasping your hands. Your look is innocent and full of sincere kindness. Not admiration or awe, no. You saw him. His soul. - “They are wonderful. In truth, your poems calmed me in hard times.”

You don't flatter or mock him. Lorgar doesn’t need to glance around the room to understand that you approached him yourself. Without Guilliman's knowledge. The bastard who dared to smile at Aurenlian when he was forced to kneel humiliatingly. Anger almost covers the man, but your embarrassed smile dispels the rage like wind blows away fog.

"Thank you." - The primarch smiles softly, fascinated by your gentle influence. “The next time we meet, I will bring you a new work that no one has seen yet. I'm sure it will change the entire Imperium."

Aurelian was above mortals, he was a primarch and the chosen one of Chaos. And yet he was wrong. He could never hurt you. Because he loved you. Stronger than Roboute. Tighter. More furious. Almost to the point of obsession, consuming his soul.

You were beautiful. Your smooth movements were like a soft wind, and your voice was like the whisper of leaves. A soft, gentle light emanated from your soul. Like a ray of sunshine on the water. Your kindness and sincerity of words were like music or scripture. How can he wish evil upon such a beautiful and divine being?

And how can someone not notice your beauty? Not to value and treat as if you are worth nothing? But his brother exceeded all expectations. Through the warp, Lorgar watched as Roboute spent time with you like ordinary mortals. You talked heart to heart, laughed and sometimes even argued. And on special evenings, the man would please you while you gave yourself to him without reserve.

Your body bent on the silk like a reed in the wind, your skin covered in hot sweat. You moaned muffledly, holding onto the headboard with force. Lorgar couldn’t take his eyes off the sight, absorbing your figure, desperately trying not to look at Guilliman’s head between your legs.

While you two indulged in sin, Aurelian, with the help of the forces of Chaos, watched over you. Insatiably and greedily, feeding the laughing Prince of Pleasure with his torments. It seemed to the man that he would make a sound as soon as you opened your mouth in a pre-orgasmic state... but the miracle ended when Guilliman decided to stop and looked at your irritated face with a smile.

“You did this again! I beg you, please, one day finish it!” - you giggle and throw a pillow at the primarch, unable to be angry with him for long. Roboute defends himself from the attack with his hand and shrugs. His eyes sparkle with merriment and his smile is self-confident.

“Can’t help it. I love teasing you too much.”

Roboute leans on you with his whole body, and you continue to laugh into his chest, hugging his warm body tightly. Not noticing Lorgar's bestial gaze, full of black rage. But he could do nothing but continue to watch as Guilliman began to enter your holy gates.

It wasn't enough! You deserved better. Real worship, not primitive sentimentality. And Lorgar was eager to show you this. Longed to touch. Inhale the smell of your hair, feel your sweat and tears on your tongue. Feel the warm skin under his palms. Hear quiet moans.

He wanted you to let him love you. Wanted you command him to praise you, deify you and worship you. And he wanted you to beg him for ascension until you both burned in the fire of desire.

But you don't. After all, you are a kind and beautiful girl, whose soul barely casts a shadow in the Immaterium. But bright as a ray of sunshine, which he want to touch. You are too innocent and pure to turn your attention to a primarch mired in the mud. And so he has to act on his own.

Horus's betrayal came like thunder from a clear sky. What a pity for Guilliman that it was at this time that you decided to visit your family and went to your home world on the ship of the Rogue Trader. Lorgar kindly provided you with protection, assuring you that you would be safe on Fidelitas Lex.

And it was true. You weren't in any danger. Lorgal had enough strength to protect and hide you from all the horrors of the Galaxy. And to his delight, he has enough time to spend time alone with you. This is still a relatively calm time for now. To know you. To feel. To open.

“I heard about what happened on Khur. - you stammer, your eyes turned to the floor, full of regret. - I'm sorry. It's horrible. What you went through and how the poor people suffered. Roba- Lord Guilliman did not want to do this, he was following orders.”

“Let what is past remain in the past. I hold no grudge against my father and brother. - the primarch whispered half-truths like an insidious snake. Still, he was grateful to the fall of the Monarchy for leading him to the real truth. - And I don’t want you to be sad. This is between me and Roboute. It has nothing to do with you.”

You look up at him and Lorgar can hardly contain a sigh of admiration. Surprisingly, you, unlike most mortals, were not amazed by his greatness. However, this had the opposite effect. It was Urizen who was amazed by you.

“You are very kind.” - you smile softly, like a mother, seeing the child’s face for the first time. - “Even in this dark time, I am grateful to meet you. I will never forget this moment.”

And although you may now shake with fear at the sight of the primarch and the Word Bearers, Lorgar knew that everything would change. He believed that you would rediscover your love for him. Unfortunately, he had to use... force after the Drop Site Massacre. You were not a prisoner, but you will still have to be kept locked up for some time. For your own good.

He can’t help but admire your beauty, your radiant soul. How you are in only a white nightgown (Lorgar got rid of all the clothes with Ultramarines colors) after walking around the room, run onto the red silk bed. How your pure image merges with sinful chambers.

The man smiles softly and approaches you, forcefully squeezing a basin of clean water in his hands. He has waited so long for this day when you can become his. When a primarch can touch the greatness of a mortal girl.

“Lorgar,” you say his name quietly, trying to calm him down. But the man just clenches his teeth, feeling like everything in his lower abdomen is filled with sinful lead. - “P-please, don’t do this. I’m sure Roboute will forgive you, you are brothers after all.”

You no longer call him Lord Guilliman. You're still in love with him. What a shame. It's making his teeth hurt. But Lorgar, with tenacity worthy of a primarch, continues to smile at you, kneeling. He doesn't want to scare you even more. You are tender and fragile, he must take care of your holiness.

“The floor is dirty, and you walk on it completely barefoot,” - he himself took the shoes from you. A sharp impulse that the primarch himself did not understand. - “Please, let me wash your beautiful feet with clean water.”

His voice gradually becomes lower from the dark secret desire and you, whining, sit down at the very edge, dangling your legs. And like a righteous soul, you try not to tremble or make sounds as the primarch lifts your skirt, all the way to your knees, which he kisses in turn.

Lorgar sighs heavily, fighting the temptation to lick your whole legs. But he still takes your foot and gently massages it in the water. Alas, this action only inflames the furious heat within him. Those little feet, dainty heels and tiny toes. An absolutely exquisite and elegant piece of art. He is so absorbed in what he is doing that he almost doesn’t hear your voice.

“Please let me go. F-For him, duty comes first. H-he will protect Terra.” - you sob from the way Lorgar squeezed your limb. - “Roboute will not look for me, Lorgar. He won’t.”

The world freezes and even the Immaterium trembles from the overabundance of the primarch’s feelings. How terrible agony and destructive rage gives way to peace. Calmness. By grace. And it's all because of you.

"Yes. He won't save you." - his gentle words, designed to calm you down, only make you more sad. And the primarch cannot help but admire your suffering as a righteous martyr. Which only plunges him deeper into sin. - “And this is his greatest mistake.”

Lorgar carefully brings your washed foot to his mouth and kisses the tip of your toe Before wrapping his mouth around it, sucking gently with moan. His mouth filled with saliva, and a shiver of excitement and awe ran through his body at the fact that he was able to touch you. To your wonderful feet that carried you through this mortal world. He was ready to kiss every piece of ground you walked on.

But instead, filled with your blessing, he gently kisses your foot, licking and biting. Every toe of yours, every vein line on your skin. Lorgar bites your ankle lightly and foreign blood seeps onto his tongue. Tastes like heaven.

The primarch looks up at you pleadingly, studying your face, wet with tears. Is this a vision of the future, a trick of the eye, or is your soul shining brighter than usual? He didn't know. But Lorgar was sure that he saw a halo above your head, which his brother stubbornly did not notice, treating you like an ordinary mortal woman. But Lorgar is different. He won't allow you to be treated like that.

He was and will be a sinner. He was always blamed for everything. But you gave him hope. And he will fully thank you for the healing that you brought to his soul. He will put you on a pedestal above the rest of the world. After all, this is exactly what you deserve. You just don't know yet.

The words fall from his bloodied lips so quietly that they are almost inaudible. But you hear. You can’t help but hear and you cry, choking with tears. Praying for help from all the saints from the books you have read, denying that you became one of them for the primarch who kidnapped you.

“Let me worship you.”

#primarch x oc #lorgar x reader #lorgar aurelian x reader #tw: yandere #tw: obsession #tw: kidnapping #religious kink #tw: voyeurism #roboute guilliman x reader

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lockedtombtheories · 1 year

Note

Thanks! I think the biggest thing currently bugging me about HtN is why every surviving lyctor, with 1 single exception, was plotting to kill Jod? My understanding is that it was only when they saw cav!Gideon's eyes on the Mithraeum that they realized Jod lied about the existence of perfect lyctorhood. So why had they spent decades plotting with BoE to open the tomb and murder God? Only explanation I've read is "because he made them kill their cavs," which seems weak.

The short answer is: They at least suspected that he lied about it even before meeting Gideon. She was just the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. Plus, he did make them kill their cavs! Their siblings, their lovers, their closest friends! They dealt with that truth for far more than a lifetime, but they just so happens that they had a lot of time to dwell on it. It’s not really a surprise that it eventually got ugly.

Long answer under the cut, because I love my followers and don’t want them to suffer.

First off: it isn't just the surviving lyctors who betrayed God. Mercymorn, Augustine, Cytherea, yes; but even G1deon was willing to share a bed with the enemy. Either he or Pyrrha told Wake about the RB's and what they do to necromancers, thereby handing her an effective weapon against lyctors.

And then there's Anastasia, who's implied to have gone against John's orders by even founding the Ninth House. Cassie, who contacted BoE *6 000 years ago*. So who really knows what Cyrus and Ulysses were up to, or would have been if they'd survived for long enough.

As for why? We get two pieces of explanation in the text.

YOU LIED TO US

Could this refer to the proof in Gideon's eyes? Sure. But I'm not convinced that it wasn't the message Cyth always wanted to send.

Checking in with the other duplicitous sluts:

“You’ve offered us explanations for everything over the years. But—some of them didn’t hold up on examination … It was the power I could never get my head around, you know? I follow power back to its source, John. It’s the skill you asked me to perfect. And the longer I looked at yours, the less things added up.” “This has been troubling you for a very long time, then,” God said finally. [...] “You don’t get your power from Dominicus,” said Augustine. “It gets its power from you. There’s no exchange involved, no symbiosis. You draw nothing from the system. It relies on you entirely, as we all know. You’re God, John. But—as the Edenites are fond of pointing out—you were once a man. So whither that transition? Where does your power come from? Even if the Resurrection had been the greatest thanergy bloom ever triggered, it would drain away over time. And then Mercy said to me—in a moment of true Mercy vileness—she said, What is God afraid of? [...] I never wanted to believe it when she said, What if he didn’t really put down A.L.? And then—What if he couldn’t put down A.L.?” (HtN, ch. 51)

So: they knew that John didn’t have a tangible power source; and lyctorhood was the only kind of internal furnace they know about. Ergo: yes, they suspected that John had lied about perfect Lyctorhood. He made them kill their cavs. 10 000 years of guilt, literally chasing them across the universe, and for what? For whom?

What kind of God demands such a sacrifice? I think that's one of the central questions of these books. What kind of God demands it? (compare the Binding of Isaac - John) But also: What kind of God punishes it? (compare the Mark of Cain - the Resurrection Beasts)

But -

“Why would one of the Emperor’s Lyctors hate him?” “Hate him?” The voice of the girl whom Gideon had known as Dulcinea rose, high and intent. “Hate him? I have loved that man for ten thousand years. We all loved him, every one of us. We worshipped him like a king. Like a god! Like a brother.” (GtN, ch. 35)

They are Believers losing their Faith. They’re questioning the entire foundation of his divinity. Augustine and Mercy are still asking, still hoping that they're wrong - “All that effort to break open the Locked Tomb,” said Augustine, “only to have the answer we wanted wander up in the form of one dead teenager flaunting your genes." - but crucially, they are also lovers going through a messy divorce. You know, when people who once loved each other and were presumably capable of communication are suddenly throwing plates at each other? “Come, swear your loyalty, my son—my brother—beloved—Lyctor—saint.”

Possibly what Tazmuir is saying is, they're the same picture. But that might be conjecture.

(edited to add in links to other theory posts. call it the director's cut)

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #og lyctors #asks answered #captain-acab #I'll answer part 2 tomorrow!#mercymorn the first #augustine the first

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sleepanonymous · 1 year

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I think I’m mentally in a good enough headspace to finally write about this. This will be a ranty post, so skip it if you’d like. I’m also not going to pretend I’m not wildly speculating here. I do not know Vessel, nor am I a mental health professional. This is just me rambling into the void; I did my best to make it coherent.

So, to start, we’ll need the message from Vessel that he played during his The Room Below set and the text on screen from the Fall For Me music video. Since I’ll call back to them, I’ve transcribed both below.

Fall For Me:

The truth is I am due a harsh lesson in truth itself and how bitter it can be. Will you teach me? The truth is I am ugly, I am inadequate, I am lost, I am no god. The truth is, I want, to want, to live, and so do you. I just can’t do this any longer. I am afraid. Are you afraid? I want to understand what it is to let go. So for now let me live as a living drama of your pain. If we are to be submerged let us be submerged together.

Vessel’s Room Below Message:

We are here to silently connect. To project ourselves onto one another. We are here to remember. We are here to forget. We are here to worship. Some time ago, I was given a message. It was a message that originated from one of you. Someone possessed by a strong desire to tell me something. The message read very simply: You saved me. I have thought about this message a great deal since. It left me with a feeling that I have somehow been mistaken for someone else. I did not save anyone. I do not believe I have the capacity to save anyone. All I have ever given anyone was a small window into the emotional waiting room of my mind. I do so whilst doing everything in my power to minimize my own vulnerability. In this way, I am selfish. I chose not to give what others can, and yet I am the benefactor of this thankful praise. |I experience a great deal of pain in my life. However, I do not believe I have suffered as you have suffered. Perhaps that is another reason why we are here. At the very least, we have all suffered. I would also like to take this chance to tell you something. To love oneself is not the easy task we are sometimes told it is. We are all limited by something. We are all guilty of something. My own path towards a place of greater self-acceptance is paved with the art that I create. It is a path that I continue to stumble down at the expense of everything else. I am nothing without this music. I am nothing without this mask. So, in this sense, the message I received was true, but only in an inverse sense. The truth is I did not save anybody. You saved me.

For a bit of background, the Fall For Me music video was released in September of 2021, right before the release of TPWBYT. The Room Below show was initially set for January 2022. It was postponed twice due to COVID-19 and was finally set for the end of April 2022. To be honest, most bands would have just cancelled the show after it was postponed, especially if it was a single show, not part of a tour, and not meant for the entire band to be present. According to an online article, the show itself even started half an hour later than it was supposed to. Again, I’m wildly speculating, but Vessel wanted to do this show specifically to deliver his Room Below message. He doesn’t communicate any other way with his fans aside from the occasional chuckle on stage and his awful (/affectionate) heart hands. So what else was he supposed to do in order to respond to that person who told them that he, specifically, saved their life?

Let me back up a bit. Again, this is speculation, but I believe this person with their strong desire to communicate their message to Vessel did so before the music video for Fall For Me was released in September of 2021. It’s possible the message came after, but before makes the most sense (at least to me). I say this because the music video for the song has no direct connection to the lyrics. The base subject matter for Fall For Me is about longing and wanting someone who does not want you back, at least not in the same way.

On the other hand, the music video is Vessel (or a character he is portraying, if that makes you feel more comfortable) committing suicide by sea, and, upon first watch, the words on the screen are his suicide note. With closer examination, this is not the case. The words on the screen, though some statements do seem like they belong in a suicide note, are more like a precursor to Vessel’s Room Below speech, especially with the “I want to want to live, and so do you” quote. Even more than that, the statements show Vessel disproving himself and his importance to Sleep Token fans.

“I am ugly”, “I am inadequate”, “I am selfish”, “I am nothing without this mask.” With these four quotes, I’ll move on to the second part of this post. These four statements are coming from a man with severely diminished self-worth. Plainly, Vessel is struggling, or, to use his word, he is suffering. Without pulling more from his music, these quotes alone are a tell-tale sign that Sleep Token’s anonymous marketing strategy has backfired in the most spectacular way for Vessel. While it has captured the attention of over two million monthly listeners on Spotify and garnered over ninety-nine million views on YouTube, the anonymity has ruined Vessel’s self-esteem.

With the above stated, I believe he’s still on board with keeping up the anonymity of Sleep Token. To be frank, I think he’s the only member of Sleep Token who is still 100% on board with the gimmick. The Vesselettes recently unmasked back in July 2023 (good for them; they deserve to be recognized and praised for their talents), and there are multiple accounts of II, III, and IV walking around festivals and venues unmasked, sometimes even wearing their full stage costumes sans masks. Vessel relies on his masked identity like a crutch to deliver his art. He does so because he believes he has to. He plainly stated this fact to the six hundred people at the Lafayette with him in April of 2022 and, by conduit, all of Sleep Token’s fans who have heard the multiple recordings and edits of this message.

The other members, II, III, IV, even the Vesselettes, the old keyboardist, OG IV, and 2020 session player Sam Kubrick, have all achieved variable success without the Sleep Token façade in the public eye. But not Vessel. The best he had was performing on a small stage hosted by his former university at a music festival in 2014. Before that, he struggled to get subscribers on YouTube and played open mic nights at a local café. Vessel didn’t achieve any recognition or fame until after he put on the mask and bought entirely into the idea that his music, his art, should be wholly separated from who he is as a person.

This mindset reminds me of a Miley Cyrus quote (stick with me; I promise this is relevant) from a few years back. She did a podcast interview and said the following about her Hannah Montana persona: “When I looked like myself, when I didn’t have the wig on anymore, no one cared about me. I wasn’t a star anymore.” Her quote helped put Vessel’s statement, “It left me with a feeling that I have somehow been mistaken for someone else”, into perspective. I saw that snippet on YouTube a couple of weeks ago, and it was like everything instantly snapped into place involving Vessel’s insistence on remaining anonymous.

With the above said, do I believe that the anonymity schtick is a trash idea and that the band should ditch it? Absolutely not, because it works. Without anonymity, the band would not have blown up the way they did after The Summoning dropped in January 2023. Without anonymity, there wouldn’t be extra layers of added lore. Without anonymity, there would be no mini ARGs for the fans curious enough to wonder why there are no credits on the songs their streaming services are suggesting to them (thanks for fucking that up, by the way, Apple Music. A+ shitshow right there). We would not have such emotional, beautiful, heart-wrenching songs without Vessel’s anonymity. Vessel has said this last point himself with his quote about minimizing his vulnerability. Would Vessel have had the confidence to put out songs like Bloodsport, Atlantic, High Water, Missing Limbs, or even Vore without his mask to shield him? In Vessel’s words, all he has given his fans is “a small window into the emotional waiting room of [his] mind.” But what a gifted, beautiful, turbulent, fractured, and brilliant waiting room we have been allowed to see.

In closing, whoever it was that gave Vessel the message about saving their life, I sincerely hope they were in attendance for The Room Below show, and I hope they heard Vessel’s response. I hope they both, as well as anyone else touched by this interaction between the two, have found support channels for the weight of their pain. I hope that they are happy.

TL;DR Vessel is a beautiful, talented, and humble human being who has and continues to save lives with his music. He deserved so much more attention than he got before Sleep Token. I want Vessel to know this (even though he will never see this post). However, I also do not think that he and the other boys should not drop Sleep Token’s anonymity act at the expense of their comfort.

#sleep token #vessel sleep token #vessel #the room below #text post #sleepanon rant #just to be clear #i’m not attacking vessel #or sleep token #or their label/management #or the way they conduct their business #this is my two brain cells rubbing against one another to fire off a neuron in my skull #shocking i know #but it happens sometimes #cw mental health #cw self harm #cw suicide #cw depression #if this needs another cw let me know and i will add it

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hand-picked-star · 5 months

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It's not a khushi bashing post.Just because I am highlighting a mistake of her,it doesn't mean that I don't love that character. Flaws would have made her more beautiful, I wished her flaws were highlighted and she would get time to work on them instead of being perfect.

I just want to highlight a certain angle of the impact of khushi's decision of not telling the raizadas about Shyam had on Anjali and Arnav.When khushi knew the truth, Anjali was not pregnant.It is really sick if you think about it, the psycho shyam was sleeping with Anjali while being obsessed with khushi and telling her that he didn't consider Anjali as his wife.The psycho might had slept with Anjali within 15-20 days before she discovered she was expecting.sick,very sick.

If khushi told them earlier then that situation could have been avoided for Anjali. Another thing the show failed to show but leave if for interpretation that how much humiliation and insult a child had to endure for their parents infidelity in society. They must had suffered that by being the offsprings of cheating father.Arnav felt the society only had accepted him when he became rich.That's why he adored the guptas so much because they accepted him despite facing his rage many times,they accepted him despite his flaws. Same goes for khushi. She accepted and loved Arnav as he was, whole-heartly.It's also the reason why Anjali worshipped Shyam.

Anyway, So, it was completely a valid reason for Anjali to think of same consequences for her child. No matter how much they loved that child but the vultures of the society would devour that child for having cheating gene in it's bloodline.The society would not spare the child whose father had no respect neither in the household not in the society just like their father.

Also growing up as a orphan or fatherless is also a pain of different genre.Our life, society and day-to-day life are constructed in a manner that we needed our father in every aspect of our life.I said it not to diminish the struggle of single mothers.Those who have grown up with your father in the picture, just imagine can you picturize a life without him?Then think the pain of an orphan, and then think of the pain of a child who is orphan inspite of it's father being alive and leveled as a person whose father was a despicable person. No mother would have wanted that for her child.That time on that hospital room two siblings relived their worst nightmare once again.Anjali was that child once upon a time who thought that life was worst than death.Arnav was that child who had already lived the life that the child would had lived. A pain that no one would understand except them.

And all of this happened, because khushi didn't tell them the truth in time, believed that a psycho, manipulator like shyam would change.The way he got engaged to khushi should have been a warning enough.Then after the reveal khushi was told firmly that she should not interact with Anjali for valid reasons. But still she didn't listen. I know her intent was good, in her heart she only wanted best for Anjali, but didn't she ignored the fact that the best for Anjali for that moment was not to interact with khushi? Khushi talked with Anjali to try to reduce her guilt, whatever you say, their interaction was not absolutely selfless from khushi's side.And this mistake of hers had almost cost Arnav his last surviving kin.Furthermore, Their relationship might not even had survived if Anjali was successful in hurting herself.

So upon first watch, watching khushi-anjali conversation and what happened afterwards, Anjali's reaction seemed exaggerated. But now in rewatch, her reaction doesn't seem excessive, does it?

My scattered thoughts (12/?)

#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #arshi #my scattered thoughts

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glitteringcrab · 9 months

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Evil Morty and the other Mortys

I think Evil Morty would have been a 100% sympathetic character to us viewers if it wasn't for the fact that he strapped hundreds of Mortys on a dome and tortured them endlessly.

However, my gut is telling me that, although Evil Morty is definitely ruthless, he's not... evil evil. Like, I can see him torturing hundreds of Mortys so that he gets to escape, but I can't see him torturing them for fun.

I can think of a few reasons why he might have done this.

Theory 1: Pragmatism

For starters, Evil Morty is very cautious and his signature move is making himself appear more harmless than he actually is. It's not unlikely that he considered the possibility that his plan may eventually go awry (like it did). It would be a lot more likely that he wouldn't get interrogated or summarily shot (or examined in any way) if he:

(a) made it seem that the Rick he was paired with was extremely evil with a beef against Mortys and therefore resistence on Evil Morty's part would be worse than suicidal

AND

(b) made sure there was a laaaaarge crowd of Mortys to hide in. If there were, like twenty Mortys in total, it would be a lot easier for the Citadel to interrogate each and one of them or to try to find a connection, a link among them, to determine the dimension they were from, which in turn would make it a lot more likely for Evil Morty to be found out.

So he needs to surround himself with a LOT of Mortys and he needs them alive... but that would make zero sense on "Evil Rick's" part. If Evil Morty wants to sell the idea that there is an Evil Rick who collects brains from other Ricks, it'd make little sense for Evil Rick to keep hundreds of Mortys alive and well. He'd have to put them to good use. So Evil Morty has to put them to good use.

Theory 2: Failed Morty Strike

Yeah, it's obvious that Evil Morty does not really care if he tortures other versions of himself:

At worst, he sadistically enjoys their suffering: "ah-ah-ah, Rick. Quiet. You're missing my symphony". Is this something he made Evil Rick say so as to appear deranged, or does he personally really enjoy it?

At best, he doesn't like it but does not hesitate doing it.

I suspect the answer lies somewhere inbetween. I think he's both desperate and desensitized at that point... If he has already been forced by his previous Ricks to kill and torture people, then this is just a line that has already been crossed.

...but it's also clear that he HATES Mortys. He said to Morty Prime: "you sellout Mortys kill me. I'd hate you more than the Ricks you worship if there was any point". (So he hates them... equally).

This whole thing gives me a bit of a "oh, you want to be a human shield?! Then you get to BE a human shield!!" vibe.

I mean that I get the impression that he had sought help from other Mortys in the past, or that he had participated in a rally against Ricks... but all the Mortys ended up giving up or siding with Ricks eventually. Just like Morty Prime ended up siding with Rick when the Citadel was collapsing. Just like Campaign Manager Morty was trying to convince Evil Morty to quit before the election even took place. The main reason I suspect that Mortys as a collective had let Evil Morty personally down in the past is his reply to Morty Prime when he asked for help. He answered "it would be pointless. Mortys have no chance of defeating a Rick". It's not unlikely that this is what he had been told when he asked other Mortys for help.

Morty Prime did manage to rally the other Mortys in the Morty dome but truth be told they were extremely desperate. I can totally see Mortys doing a strike in the Citadel and the strike completely fizzling out because Ricks mind blew a few Mortys, summarily arrested and expelled some others into space, or even offered some Mortys the opportunity to get paired immediately with new Ricks (forever). The latter seems quite likely given that Morty Prime's mom was instructing him to demand for Rick to treat him better and he said "no, I'm desperate" (and Rick freaking smiled). Imagine if you have NO MOM and get offered a second chance of companionship by a Rick...

This would make his offer to Morty Prime make a lot more sense: he's a Morty who (a) was sick of Rick (b) tried to help other Mortys, and (c) successfully rallied them. He'd be everything an emotionally cornered Evil Morty would ever want-- oh, wait. Actually, NO. That second seat is just a toilet.

I like this theory because it means Evil Morty is the personification of the results of the failures of BOTH Rick AND Morty. Morty constantly doing whatever Rick tells him is not just bad for him, it means he becomes an accomplice to a lot of criminal acts... And although he's a child and therefore carries a very small part of the blame, after a certain point he should also take responsibility for his own actions (I mean, he tried to ROOFIE Jessica!!)

Theory 3: Evil Morty had personal beef with the Mortys he was torturing

If the hypothesis that he is a clone Morty with no real family and that he had been passed around repeatedly among various Ricks is true, then it's possible he specifically targeted the previous Ricks that had rejected him and the Mortys that had replaced him, out of spite. I wholeheartedly hope this isn't true because it'd mean he has been passed around hundreds of times. Slick Morty, who had 5 Ricks in the past, was "top" of his class, so hopefully exchanging hundreds of Ricks is Not A Thing.

Not to mention that targetting Ricks who had a previous connection with him would make it more likely for someone to discover said connection and catching him.

Also, since Evil Morty's plan was to bring down the Central Finite Curve, it'd make more sense for him to target Ricks likely to be in the know, not Ricks he had a personal beef with.

So, no, I don't think this theory is true.

Theory 4: He's jealous of Mortys with loving families

It's possible that, if Evil Morty is a clone Morty with no family, he targeted "naturally occuring Mortys" in loving families, out of spite. Mortys who had what he never had.

Theory 5: I'm overthinking it.

He's evil. Period.

#evil morty #rick and morty

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scribeforchrist-blog · 1 month

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Hot Season

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ Proverbs 16:7 When a man's ways please the Lord, he makes even his enemies to be at peace with him.

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VERSE OF THE DAY

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+ Daniel 3:23 And these three men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego fell, bound, into the furnace of blazing fire

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM IN MY HOT SEASON

I LOVE GOD

I AM STRONG

I AM HOPEFUL

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READ TIME: 7 Minutes & 43 Seconds

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THOUGHTS:

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No matter how the situation looks, how we think it will turn out, or how we think the enemy has us, he doesn’t. God has us in his hands, and he is so sovereign. He's so excellent and merciful that whatever we get ourselves into or do, he will always help us in his way, and in his time, we must trust and believe.

Look at these three men. They were bound and tossed into the furnace, but God saw them and had other plans. Many of us don’t believe that, but he does. The situation might look hard and complex, but trust and believe that whatever God has in store for us will change our current situation. We must be patient, and these three men said this to King Nebuchadnezzar verse 18: “ But even if he does not rescue us, we want you as king to know that we will not serve your gods or worship the gold statue you set up.”

Wow, this was bold statement ; many of us must be bold like this. With sin in our life and with the enemy, say to him hey, whatever you do to me, I don’t care; I won't serve you; I won't turn around. I will continue to serve God, and many of us won't do this. Because we know that’s not our plan, we know that once it gets too hot, we will jump out of the frying pan without consulting God because we don’t want to go through ,sometimes God wants it to get Hot a little bit , for us so we can learn to count on him, so we can learn to rely on him.

Many people today don’t want to go through the downs of life because they feel they don’t deserve it. We all deserve punishment and judgment, but because of Jesus, we don’t have to go through those things because he changed how we will go through some things in our lives; this is not to say that when we give our life to God that nothing won't happen because it will but it's up to us to trust that God is sovereign and lord over everything. He will keep us safe and sound.

Verse 22 Since the king’s command was so urgent and the furnace extremely hot, the raging flame skilled those men who carried up Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.

Sometimes, what we go through will affect other people, maybe in a good or bad way. In some cases, the men that put them in got burned very severely, but sometimes what we must suffer, and people see us suffering, will save someone's life. Sometimes it won't. That is why we must stay prayed up while going through and not do anything to sway someone away from following God.

As we go through our fiery trail and deal with our challenging moments, remember that we aren’t doing it alone; it might feel and look that way. Still, we aren’t we must continue to stay focused on God and stay focused on the fact that he’ll never leave us or forsake us,

Verse 24-25 Then King Nebuchadnezzar jumped up in alarm. He told his advisers, “Didn’t we throw three men, bound, into the fire?” Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” they replied to the king. 25 He exclaimed, “Look! I see four men, not tied, walking around in the fire unharmed, and the fourth looks like a son of the gods.”

Even if it looks like we are alone, we aren’t. They didn’t know God would send his angels to help and protect them, and the king, seeing this, saved his soul. It changed his mind about God; we often think people aren’t watching and what we are going through is just for us. It isn’t what we go through sometimes for others to see and to be saved by God. That is why, while going through it, we must change how we act and handle things. Imagine if Daniel and his friends started fussing, cussing, and acting in any way. God might not have sent his angel, and the king would've never changed his mind.

Verse 29 Therefore, I issue a decree that anyone of any people, nation, or language who says anything offensive against the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego will be torn limb from limb, and his house made a garbage dump. For there is no other god who is able to deliver like this.”

See, he declared that no other god could deliver like this; God wants our life to be an example of who he is and what he can do. A lot of us do anything we want; we say anything we want because we feel that it doesn’t matter, and we can see in this story it does matter how you handle everything that’s in your life.

James 5:12 Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.

The Bible tells us that those who remain steadfast during a trial are blessed. We have to stay strong because God is trying to prepare us for our next season or next mission, our following action, but if we can’t stand through the Hot season, how will we make it through a season of growth and season of isolation ,a season of drought because every season we go through is tough but it’s easier when we accept the call and hold on to God.

*** Today, we learned it’s okay to be HOT to have a fiery trail because what we think looks bad isn’t ,what Daniel and his friends saw looked bad, but what they went through wasn’t because God protected them through it all; we have to learn to trust in Jesus and know that through everything he’s going to walk with us, God loves us so much he wants us to learn from our trails what to do, BEING HOT doesn’t mean we did anything wrong it means he wants to show us what to do during this time he wants to show us how to walk in his path and ways.

Every time it gets a little hot, don’t get upset or say what I did wrong, lord? Say, God, I know it’s hot, but what are you trying to show me in this season of my life? And he’ll show you a lot of times we continue to go through because we don’t recognize or see what he’s trying to show us, and in this season, he’s trying to show us we are going to be okay and that through him we will have a testimony don’t let what you see to cause you to act different than what you should let what you see make you stronger and mightier through God ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father, we thank you for everything. We ask you to help us through our hot season and help us conquer everything in our lives; lord, we give you everything, and we thank you. Lord, help us not be like anyone else but to be like you; help us pray more and listen more. Lord, we are thankful for every season we are about to express lord; we thank you for the word and for your strength; in Jesus Name, Amen

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REFERENCES

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+ 1 Peter 5:10 And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.

+ Romans 12:12 Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, and constantly pray.

+ Romans 5:3 Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance,

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FURTHER READINGS

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Proverbs 14

Leviticus 14

Psalm 93

Judges 14

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malkavi-ann · 24 days

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When the Truth Hurts. Chapter 4

Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree fanfiction

Rating: Mature (May change in the future)

Relationship: F/M

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler/Original Female Character

Tags: Self-Loathing, Reference to Depression, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Messmer is bad at feelings, Mommy Issues, Abandonment Issues, Mostly Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Tarnished never arrives to the Land of Shadow, Friendship/Love

Link to Ao3

Chapter 4: The Shadow Keep

Meanwhile, Messmer’s men were waiting for his liege to return outside. Some of them were having an idle chat, while others were watching the door closely, and Commander Gaius was one of them. Truth be told, he was concerned about Messmer’s well-being. They had known each other since they were serving the Golden Order in the Lands Between. Both of them suffered from afflictions that made their life miserable, and perhaps because of that their bond grew stronger as the years passed. When Marika ordered Messmer to wage war on the Hornsent, he personally appointed Gaius to lead his army into the Land of Shadow. All these years they fought their enemy side by side. When they weren’t fighting, Messmer would confide in Gaius about his fears and feelings related to his mother’s absence. Therefore, the albinauric warrior knew very well how deeply Messmer was concerned about this mysterious woman who could be Marika’s imposter.

Gaius’ thoughts got interrupted by a loud rumbling “oink” that came from his mount, a giant boar which he gently called his other half. “What’s that, Penelope? Have you grown tired already, my dear?”, he playfully asked his beloved animal. Penelope shook her head and grunted, expressing her disagreement mixed with concern. “Now, now, no need to fuss over me. I’m just a wee bit worried about my dear friend. But I’m sure he will be alright. He has been through a lot, but he’s a strong man.” The boar got quiet for a moment and then grunted softly as if she was trying to reassure her companion. “Ah, I do appreciate your concern, my dear.”, Gaius said as he patted his loyal mount on the back of her head. Penelope squealed with delight and finally calmed down.

The sun slowly started to set when two figures finally emerged from the hut. Messmer’s men sighed with relief when they saw their leader appear unharmed, but their demeanor changed drastically when their eyes fell on the female figure following Messmer. Many soldiers and knights in Messmer’s army were Marika’s followers who worshiped her with fervor. And so they were also hoping for their Queen’s return; however, nothing could have prepared them for what they saw: a visage resembling Marika but plagued with a mark of their sworn enemy. Morgana could feel all those looks filled with disgust pointed towards her and it made her skin crawl. She wondered what exactly about her presence had made these people so deeply upset. Messmer also took notice of how the attitude of his soldiers had changed once they saw Morgana. He stepped in front of her, his figure hiding her from the silent hostility.

“We shall take this woman to the Shadow Keep for further interrogation. No harm shall be inflicted upon her.”, Messmer announced. His men exchanged puzzled looks as they couldn’t understand why they should spare this imposter from death. Nevertheless, Messmer’s orders were not to be argued with, so they had to obey.

Messmer turned to Morgana, “You said you could awaken my soldiers from their slumber”. She nodded, “As long as they are moved away from the blood fiends, yes. Otherwise, the soldiers might attack them again once they’re awake”.

“Fair enough”, Messmer said. He ordered his men to move the sleeping bodies of the scouts away from the blood fiends. Once they were at a safe distance from the shack, Morgana closed her eyes and whispered an incantation. In an instance, the sleeping soldiers started to wake up, yawning as they were getting up from the ground. After they finally came to their senses, the envoy was finally ready to return to the Shadow Keep.

The journey back to the Shadow Keep was quite uneventful and mostly silent. Every now and then some soldiers would quickly look over the horned woman and exchange hushed murmurs of disapproval. It was getting dark when they finally reached the gates of the keep. One of the Fire Knights approached Messmer and Gaius, “My lord, where should we take the…uh…prisoner?”. For a moment, Messmer considered the options: there wasn’t a functioning prison in the keep as his army didn’t tend to keep captured Hornsent alive for too long. He was trying to remember if there were any spare rooms where Morgana could be kept under lock when Commander Gaius chimed in. “We could take her to one of the prayer rooms in the church district and put a couple of guards at the door to make sure she doesn’t escape.”

Messmer nodded, “That sounds reasonable. Thank you for your suggestion, Commander”. He then turned to the knight, “Take her to the prayer room and arrange guarding shifts. Keep an eye on her day and night.” The Fire Knight bowed slightly before heading towards Morgana, who was surrounded by the foot soldiers. Messmer and Gaius heard him give orders to the soldiers and after that, they took Morgana away.

”Well, that was certainly an unusual encounter”, Gaius said.

“Indeed. Out of all possibilities, I didn’t expect this to happen.” Messmer remarked.

“What exactly happened in that shack? And why in the name of the Erdtree did you decide to bring this woman here?”, asked Gaius.

”Let us speak in private. I do not wish anyone to overhear us. Come with me, my friend.” Messmer turned around and headed towards his chamber while Gaius followed behind him. After taking a brisk walk through the keep, they entered the Dark Chamber. The room greeted them with silence and complete darkness. Messmer made a slight gesture with his left hand and the candles around the room lit up with his flame.

“I was worried about you, Messmer”, Gaius began. “I know that your mother means a lot to you, but I still cannot comprehend why you kept that woman alive. She looks like a Hornsent.”

”Oh, believe me, my friend, I did want to kill her on the spot once I saw those wretched horns. To distort my mother’s visage like that? Such a blasphemy. And yet I couldn’t do it. Despite the horns, that woman reminds me so much of her. It’s like she’s back here with me.”, Messmer said.

”I see. Can’t say I blame you for that.”, his albinauric friend was always incredibly understanding, and this time was no exception. “In any case, my other question still stands: why did we bring her here?”

”She mentioned that she comes from the Lands Between, so I reckoned she might know something of the current state of affairs there. And perhaps she may have information about my mother too as she said she used to live at a palace.”, Messmer replied, his words filled with desperate hope.

”That is rather curious. But couldn’t you get that information from her when we were at the hut?”, Gaius questioned his friend further.

“The woman has lost her memories so she couldn’t give me any details about her life in the Lands Between. So, I thought that maybe with time she could regain her memories, and then we could interrogate her.” When Messmer was trying to explain his reasoning, he could feel that Gaius was hesitant to accept his explanation.

“Hmm, I suppose that could be possible. But what if her memory doesn’t come back? What are we to do then?”. It was clear that Gaius had doubts about this plan, and quite frankly, Messmer was also unsure if it was possible.

“In that case, we’ll get rid of her.”

Gaius nodded in response, seemingly satisfied with Messmer’s reply. “Is there anything else we should know about her?”, came another question.

Messmer hesitated for a few seconds: he needed to consider what information he could share even with his friend. Though they’d been close friends for a long time and they trusted each other deeply, Messmer was still afraid that Gaius would think less of him for his true intentions.

”Her name is Morgana, and she’s been afflicted by the Omen curse since she was born. That’s why I mistook her for a Hornsent.”, he finally spoke.

”An Omen? From what I recall, Omen folk are much bigger and more violent than this woman.”, Gaius remarked, and Messmer had to agree with his friend.

”Indeed, I found it hard to believe as well. However, since she comes from the Lands Between, and the Omen curse doesn’t exist in the realm of shadow, I’m inclined to trust her on that.”

The two men stayed silent for a while as both were processing the events of the day. Gauis looked at his friend intently: was there something Messmer was not telling him? While his reasons for keeping this woman alive had some validity, it seemed as if Messmer was trying really hard to convince Gaius that there was a legitimate need to bring her to the keep.

”My friend,” Gaius said gently, “if there’s something you wish to get off your chest, I’m always here to listen to you with an open mind. And I swear on my honor that everything we’ve discussed here shall remain a secret.”

Messmer smiled wearily, “Thank you, Gaius. Your support means a lot to me.”, he paused. “Now, if you excuse me, I wish to be alone for a while.”

“Of course, you must be exhausted, my friend. I shall leave you be. Rest well.” And with that, Gaius exited the Dark Chamber, leaving Messmer alone to ponder the events of the day.

Messmer turned his gaze towards the statue of Marika which was hidden in the shadows of the chamber. He still couldn’t believe that everything that had transpired earlier that day was real. Now that he was back in the Shadow Keep, it all felt like a distant dream. Yet, that woman was here, locked up in one of the prayer rooms of the keep. Messmer sighed heavily: now that he could think a bit more clearly, he realized how desperate and irrational his actions were. And, judging by his conversation with Gaius, his loyal friend remained doubtful about Messmer’s true reasons behind Morgana’s imprisonment.

Truth to be told, there was another reason why Messmer decided to bring her here. After seeing how much this woman looked like his mother, he simply couldn’t let her go. All these years he’d been yearning to see Marika once more. And when he looked at Morgana, he could almost see his mother right there in front of him. His common sense and rational thinking kept telling Messmer that he was wrong for hoping that this woman could somehow replace Marika’s presence in his life. Nevertheless, he chose to follow his heart. Was he really that desperate and weak? Just thinking about this situation made him despise himself even more.

”Pathetic.”, Messmer said out loud to himself. “You have always been pathetic, and you shall remain that way till your very end. Maybe you deserve to be abandoned by the one who you love most.”

He looked at his Mother’s stone visage once again. “O Mother, forgive me for my sins.”, he prayed silently. There was, of course, no reply, but Marika’s statue always watched over him with a smile. In his mind, Messmer preferred to believe that she would forgive him no matter what for her maternal love was unconditional.

* * *

Morgana was following the knight through the keep. She was surrounded by a couple of soldiers who kept a very close watch on her. Agreeing to come here was most certainly a mistake since everyone treated her like a dangerous prisoner. However, it was too late to regret her past actions. Besides, she didn’t have much choice to begin with. Maybe the man with the serpents was right, and her memory would come back to her with time. Or maybe it was all a ruse to get her captured.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the chatter between the guards. “We should take her through the Specimen Warehouse if we want to take a shortcut.”, one of the soldiers to her left said, addressing the knight in front of her. “I’m well aware of that. Now shut up and stick to your duty, soldier.”, the knight cut the guard off.

As they entered the Specimen Warehouse, Morgana was taken aback by how enormous this part of the keep was. There were multiple levels connected by stairs and elevators, and each of these levels contained hundreds of thousands of ancient tomes, scrolls, and stone inscriptions. Who knew what kind of knowledge and wisdom could be gained from perusing this collection? Morgana, who had been mostly looking at the floor on the way to her cell, started looking around the warehouse with excitement and curiosity. But the most astonishing thing about this place wasn’t its size or its extensive amount of books. It was the mummified specimen of animals and even people whose bodies were covered with horns. Their corpses were either suspended by the chains or displayed on large platforms around the library. The mere sight of these dead creatures was both breathtaking and terrifying. An eerie thought crawled into Morgana’s mind: would this be her fate if she didn’t regain her memories? Would she be murdered, mummified, and put on the display? Thinking about it made her sick to her stomach, and the sliver of hope that she’d had before began to wane. Disgusted by the morbid sights, she averted her gaze and tried to concentrate on the positives: she was still alive, and there was still a chance, though slim, for her to reach her goal.

Morgana was so consumed by her thoughts, that she didn’t notice that they’d reached a stone platform that took them to the lower levels of the keep. As they made their descent, the air changed drastically: the warm scent of parchment and leather of the books was replaced by a stale odor of something cold and damp. When the platform came to a halt, Morgana realized why it smelled so putrid: this level of the keep was surrounded by murky water.

“Thank Marika, we’re almost there.”, one of the soldiers murmured, avoiding being heard by his superior. “Can’t wait to bugger off and get some bloody rest”. The guards were obviously not happy with their duties. But it seemed that the knight didn’t hear - or pretended to not hear - the soldier’s rumblings. Soon enough they reached a wooden door tucked away in the corner of the building they were in. The knight opened the door and gestured for Morgana to enter the room. “Get in.”, he ordered sharply. Morgana obeyed silently and walked into a dimly lit prayer room. The door behind her slammed shut, and she heard the sound of keys rattling in the keyhole. She was now locked in a room that had no windows except for a tiny opening in the door with iron bars that separated her from the rest of the world. In a moment the rattling stopped, and Morgana could hear the sound of footsteps that grew fainter and fainter as the knight with the soldiers were making their exit from the building.

Morgana looked around the room, which was now her prison. There were a few benches and a couple of chairs that faced an altar adjacent to the back wall. As there were no windows, the only source of light was candles placed on the wooden holders. Most of them were almost completely gone, sitting in the solidified puddle of wax, while some were still giving off feeble light. It seemed as if this room wasn’t frequented by the keep dwellers and therefore was as solitary as its only occupant.

Morgana wanted to consider her next steps, but she was too exhausted to even think. There was no sign of a bed, and the chairs were too small for her. “Looks like sleeping on the floor is my only option. Good thing I’ve already gotten used to it”, she said to herself. She took off the cloak and threw it on the cold stone floor to make it slightly less comfortable to sleep on. When Morgana finally lay down, she whispered a quick prayer to the Formless Mother. Even though her sacred seal had been taken away, saying a prayer brought her a sense of comfort. Feeling slightly better, Morgana closed her eyes and drifted into the world of dreams.

__________________________

Note: Hello dear readers! First of all, thank you for your patience! I know it's been a while since the last update. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to work on this chapter the previous week due to some IRL stuff. I also felt a bit uninspired, so that sucked. Anyway, I feel like I'm getting a bit better at writing longer chapters. I also realized that I really enjoy describing the characters' interactions with their "pets". I think it shows their kinder side of personality well. Speaking of the pets, I couldn't find any info about Gaius' boar gender, so I just decided to make it female lol. Finally, thank you all so much for the likes, comments, and reposts. I really appreciate your support, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter <3 Until next time :)

#elden ring #elden ring messmer #fanfic #fantasy #messmer the impaler #original character #shadow of the erdtree #slow burn #angst #memory loss

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loveandmurders · 1 year

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I can't stop thinking about the song What could have been by Sting.

It happens to perfectly describe Trudy and Bo's relationship.

I am the monster you created

You ripped out all my parts

And worst of all, for me to live

I gotta kill the part of me that saw

That I needed you more

I can't imagine the trauma behind the way Vincent and Bo got physically seperated by Victor. But in a way, Bo is the one who suffered the less, compared to what happened to Vincent's face.

I can't imagine the guilt Bo feels every day though, even if it is not his fault. Deep down, he knows it. Trudy knew it too, but she still never loved him.

She couldn't, even if she would have tried.

She made him angry, she broke him physically and emotionally over and over again, until there was nothing left but a sadistic and violent man.

Even if Bo would have tried to get away from the murders, he couldn't. It was too late, it was his fate, it was what his mother made of him.

And even if he was aware Trudy never loved him, he still safely kept her body inside the church and replayed her funeral over and over again. It may be an attempt to get free from her, to finally let her go and to not desire her love anymore. Or it may be just like when you scratch an old wound and you make it bleed again. He knows he needs her, but he lost her forever and even if she was still alive, even if she could see everything he is doing for her and for her project, she couldn't love him.

Because she didn't have it in her.

And he knows it.

I hope you know we had everything

When you broke me and left these pieces

I want you to hurt like you hurt me today and

I want you to lose like I lose when I play what could have been

Oh, what could have been

They could have been a happy family despite everything.

Vincent was the little artist, Bo could have been the responsible big brother and he could have helped the family. Lester could have brought so much light and joy in the family too.

But Victor and Trudy didn't have it in them to be good, even less to be good parents. Their love was toxic and selfish. Maybe they loved each other, but Trudy certainly only loved her art.

More than once Bo cursed his parents, his mother. He just wanted to be loved, he just wanted to be part of something. He was jealous of Vincent, of course. But at the same time, he loved his twin too much and Vincent had always been there for him.

Bo's anger was directed toward his mother. The pain was (and still is) unbearable. He could imagine how life could have been. When she died, he wondered if it wasn't his own hatred and violence who killed her. Maybe everything he felt turned into a disease and destroyed her body like she destroyed him.

Maybe it was her own hatred and violence who killed herself, but Bo never thought about it, because things were always his fault.

In the end, she died and Bo killed Victor.

No one won, and everyone lost.

Why don’t you love who I am?

What we could have been

He used to scream at her, to threaten her, to try and beat her. When he grew up things went worst and even Victor had issues fighting him off. Truth to be told, Bo would have never hurt Trudy. He just needed her to see how hurt he was.

But she didn't care.

Now, every day, he goes seeing her at the church, asking her why she couldn't love him. Everything could have been so much happier, if she had at least been able to pretend. He could have even been a better person. Truth to be told, he didn't particularly enjoy the killing, he just didn't believe he deserved a better life.

His mother told him too many times he was a monster, so it had to be true.

And he loved her so much.

I am your ghost, a fallen angel

You ripped out all my parts

I couldn’t care what invention you made me

'Cause I, I was meant to be yours

And because the boys loved her, worshipped her, they couldn't let go of her work. Vincent didn't want to leave because of his face and because he had to keep going her art. Bo didn't want to leave because he couldn't let go of Vincent and because he wanted his mamma to be proud of him, wherever she was (probably in Hell). Lester left but came back everyday for his big brothers. Trudy never loved Lester either, but she never hurt him, because she didn't care about him at all.

She hated Bo because he was a monster just like her, because she could see her own sins in him, because she could see herself in him. And she hated herself and she hated this stupid and pathetic life she had. She had always wanted more, she wanted to be famous and that was why she forced Vincent to promise him he would keep going her legacy.

She hated her life, but she was scared to die.

And she died painfully.

Vincent cried, Bo didn't but shattered even more, Lester was lost.

Victor went even more insane.

Funny how a woman who had no love was adored by the four men in her life. Such a waste.

I hope you know we had everything

When you broke me and left these pieces

I want you to hurt like you hurt me today and

I want you to lose like I lose when I play

In the very end, Bo and Vincent die in the House of Wax. Vincent hugs Bo and puts his face where it used to be in their mother's womb. It could have been the metaphor of a new beginning in a better life, but it is just Vincent looking for comfort as he loses everything.

They die because they spent their life wanting to please a woman who broke them; they even die inside of Trudy's legacy. All her creations are gone now, even her boys.

Lester is left alone once again, as if even death forgot about him. He may be lost, but he is the only one who has the chance to get free from this past.

With a bit of luck, Bo and Vincent will never find Trudy in Hell.

Despite everything, they still deserve better.

I want you to hurt like you hurt me today and

I want you to lose like I lose when I play

What could have been

#house of wax (2005)#house of wax thoughts #bo sinclair #bo sinclair thoughts #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair thoughts #lester sinclair #lester sinclair thoughts #trudy sinclair #trudy sinclair thoughts #victor sinclair #victor sinclair thoughts #sinclair brothers #sinclair family #slasher #slasher thoughts #what could have been

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highfantasy-soul · 3 months

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maybe I'm just projecting my own stuff onto The Acolyte, but it's kinda frustrating seeing people take Qimir's "I don't wanna follow the jedi's rules" and see that his interpretation is "I can do whatever I want even if it hurts people" and stop there. Safe and comfortable in their bubble of "so that means anyone against the jedi are like him and the jedi, once again, are prefect and above reproach!"

Qimir is the person who chafes against the Jedi's rules that we see - because those without power or strength have already been crushed underfoot.

It's similar to the whole idea of "Why are all the gays so angry and mean? Because you killed all the nice ones, so us angry mean ones are all that's left"

Just because what Qimir is doing is wrong, doesn't make what the Jedi do right. There's nuance here. There's ethnic cleansing here. There's re-education and generational trauma here.

We NEVER see the witches do anything remotely evil. Yet the Jedi chased them out of the galaxy and forbade them from teaching their culture to children. Do you know what that's called? Ethnic cleansing. It happened to indigenous children all over the world, and you can see it specifically in boarding schools for native american children. Tribal cultures were squashed - their children stolen and re-educated to fit the white standard and forbidden from speaking their native language, wearing their hair in their indigenous ways, and worshiping they way they had for generations. (Notable here is the fact that due to WHITE people's over-hunting of bison and whales, indigenous people were legally barred from hunting them as well - something that was very integral to their practices. White people caused the problem and indigenous people's cultures suffered all the while white people get to act all holy and 'eco-friendly' about it)

To place your culture above that of others and force everyone else to either adhere to your ways or do their thing quietly in the dark where no one can see them - and no children can exist - is BAD. The point is to remove a culture from existence as no new members can be taught traditional ways. That is a part of ethnic cleansing. (Stealing indigenous babies from their families and placing them with white, christian families where they'll never see people from their birth culture again is a whole ass thing)

This also causes a lot of generational harm where those who have been 're-educated' from a culture sometimes look down on their native family and see them as 'less civilized, savage, backward, and less-than' the white culture they were indoctrinated in as children. That's the point of getting children so young - they're malleable and raise them with enough propaganda, and you can get them to look their own family in the face and denounce them.

Many will not have the power to fight back, so they'll have to abide by the new rules and everyone will say "see? they're still alive! That means we're not oppressive!" But others will speak truth to power and try to stand in defiance of those rules - many peacefully, just by embracing their native traditions. Did the witches attack the Jedi? No. They removed themselves from the Republic sphere of influence and bore children. Yet the Jedi still came and told them they weren't allowed and forced them to 'present' their children for Jedi judgment.

Does that mean every aspect of a culture that's not the majority is automatically going to be good? No. But NO culture is 100% good. Why do the Jedi get to work towards being better while no one else gets that opportunity? Why are minority cultures held to an impossible standard of perfection while the majority gets to skate by training child soldiers, stealing toddlers, and enforcing their religion on the whole galaxy?

When you push other cultures down, the ones who rise up in violent opposition aren't going to be nice about it. But note how even though Qimir's actions are awful, he only ever has killed enemy combatants. The Jedi are soldiers, cops, invaders. They are able to perform state-sanctioned violence against anyone they choose (not sure if it was intentional, but look how they treated those arrested for crimes in episode 1 - none of those people had gotten trials yet, none had been proven guilty, but they were treated as guilty without a second thought).

We understand Frank Castle's motivations even if we don't condone them - because he's fighting back against incredible systems of power that hurt people and he doesn't see another way to hold them accountable. To me, Qimir (and Mae and the witches) fall closer to that category than Vader or Palpatine.

Look at how quick people were to scream that the witches were brainwashing Osha, yet ignore how the Jedi do practically the same. Now imagine if the witches went around to children only 4 years old throughout the galaxy and tried to get them to come join the coven - never to see their families again. It'd be horrifying. Yet the Jedi do the same, but because it's the 'majority', it's 'the norm', we assume it must be right because "Hey, the Jedi are the good guys!"

Idk, I think the Acolyte is doing a wonderful job of 'not taking sides' and just presenting each side's arguments without judgment rather than saying 'so they're right and you should side with them'. To me, NO side is 'right', they're all just people and the situations are messy. Qimir might be wrong, but so are the jedi - just because Qimir is wrong, doesn't mean that the jedi are automatically right and above reproach.

There are others suffering under jedi rule that have long been snuffed out or subjugated so fully that it will take the rise of the empire in order for them to have the space to stand up again. And I think dismissing those people because 'Qimir is worse' is a disservice to the message and discussions the acolyte is trying to promote.

#the acolyte #the acolyte spoilers #jedi critical #i mean i'm ACAB and anti-establishment so you'll never force me to ignore all the issues the jedi organization has #because ALL organizations/institutions have horrific sides to them because it's their nature #no matter how noble the intentions when a group decides they know best for everyone - bad things happen #just because you disagree with the jedi doesn't mean you're pro-baby murder now #idk both are wrong - both have points #tw cultural genocide #tw ethnic cleansing

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