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romana-after-dark · 5 months

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Room's on Fire 4: Tolerate It

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

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Summery: Madonna learns more about her role and the dynamics of the household.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Extra warnings for chapter: 'incubus', emotional abuse, withholding of affection, more panic

This is not meant to be a statement about religion, Christianity, or Catholicism, this is simply my take on a cult. I am a religious person. I understand that some of this may be very offensive to religious people so if you don't like thing like AHS Asylum or Black Mass, maybe consider not reading.

A/n: next chapter things ramp up.

3.6k words

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I wait by the door like I'm just a kid Use my best colors for your portrait Lay the table with the fancy shit And watch you tolerate it If it's all in my head, tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it ~Tolerate It, Taylor Swift

Your bed was comfortable, huge, with pillows and soft comforters all around you giving all the comfort surrounding you that you could need. This is a good thing, considering how exhausted you felt all the time. It was not easy keeping 4 men satisfied. Ben was near constant, and although Will took his time with you and both made you cum, it was still a lot. Francisco avoided you, only fucking you when Pope was there. Pope and Francisco… you didn’t know how to take it.

It was strange seeing your husbands kiss, and you struggled with how little Pope’s eyes were on you. It seemed he could only cum when he looked at Francisco.

You woke up in the middle of the night, a cloud of darkness and pillowy soft as you lay on your back. Consciousness came to you slowly, a deep sleep attempted to keep you down, but the feeling between your legs refused to let you sleep. You were tired, so damn tired and so sore, your arms so heavy you couldn’t even lift them feel at the heaviness on your chest. Why did you hear breathing? Was it your own? You wanted to open your eyes but they were almost sealed shut. Panic began to bubble.

You’d heard of incubus’s before, demons that entered you in your sleep and violated you, but that wasn’t possible, was it? You’d remained sexually pure, physically and emotionally faithful to your husbands and them only. You attended prayers and were the model of wifery. This shouldn’t happen to a faithful servant of Divine Mother. Had you done something wrong? Were you not fulfilling your role? Had you been tainted by the actions of your fathers betrayal?

You were scared.

“Shhhhh” A voice whispered, but you were so delirious from the broken sleep cycle you couldn’t recognize if it was a voice you knew. “Shhhhh, go back to sleep…”

Not sure what to do, scared and completely out of control of your body you tried to fight it, tried to fight off the demon on top of you, but there was no energy left.

You sank into sleep as the rhythmic thrusts rocked you back into the haze.

Still tired, still unfocused and unclear, you wake up slowly. When you remember what happened last night, your eyes flash open in a start and the memories come back. They scared you, but the biggest concern was how wet you felt between your legs. Had the demon cum inside you? Were you to become pregnant with a demon's child. Anxious, you throw off the blanket and look down between your legs in your nightgown.

Blood.

You scream, fear from last night clouded any rational judgment and you scream when you see Reyansh.

“What’s going on?!” He rushed in, gun drawn, looking about to room.

“GET OUT!”

He looks back to you, seeing the blood on the bed. He blinks. “Are you… okay?” He looks confused.

It begins to settle on you what happened, and now you’re embarrassed. You throw a pillow at him. “GET! OUT!”

The pillow smacks him right in the face. “Oof!” But after one more check over, eyeing you confused, he leaves.

You got your period. This did not calm your fears. You shouldn’t have your period, you should be pregnant with the savior. Something was wrong, something was horribly fucking wrong and it was somehow your fault. Was last night a nightmare, or were you being haunted? Either way, something was wrong because you were not found worthy.

You were not pregnant.

Bleeding more and more, you needed to take care of this, but you didn’t have any sanitary products… No one expected you to need them.

Wrapping your blanket around your flimsy nightgown, You crack the door open, hands visibly shaking. “Reyansh?”

“Yeah?” He says kindly.

You didn’t want to talk about this with him, as nice as he was. Usually, Jonah was outside your door in the morning. You wanted him. “Um… where’s Jonah?”

“He’s the head of the guard, he went back to his normal duties. I’m gonna be your primary guard.” He chuckles a bit. “Sorry to disappoint.”

No… no you wanted Jonah… you trusted Jonah. “No, um… I want Jonah back, thank you…” You tried to sound in control. You were the Madonna, they needed to listen to you, right?

Reyansh sighs. “I’ll mention to Jonah, but I don’t think that’s happening. Miller wants him focusing on security. He just Jonah be around for a bit because you seemed comfortable.”

Fine. Problem for later. You could feel the blood dripping down. “Well then I want Iris!”

“Why? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He sounded concerned.

“Reyanash please”

“It’s monday, she goes shopping on Mondays, it’ll be a few hou-”

“ARE THERE ANY GIRLS IN THIS DAMN BUILDING!” You snap.

There is a bit of silence before he says. “Ah. I’ll be back.”

When he walks away, you slump against the door and fall down, crying. As you bleed and cry into the comforter, you try not to let the panic settle in. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay. They loved you, they wouldn’t throw you out after one month! They loved you, they loved you, they loved you.

Knock Knock

“Come in…” You whisper, defeated and scoot enough for him to slip in, holding tampons and pads. You didn’t know how to use a tampon, only using pads before. You wanted to preserve your virginity.

“I found these. They’re Iris’s, but she won’t mind.” He tries to hand them to you, but you don’t grab them.

“You can set them on the floor…” You whispered, and he does.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Can you um… if you see Santi, let him know?” Santi was anxiously awaiting to hear if you were pregnant… he’s going to be so disappointed in you.

No one came to see you all day. Will and Ben were out in the town, working, and you didn’t expect Francisco, but the fact Pope didn’t show was enough to know he was angry with you. You had asked to talk to him, but Reyansh had said it “wasn’t the time.”

So, you went to your studio, Reyansh sitting outside, and went to work. You’d been working on a portrait of Pope. He liked to sit and watch you paint from behind your easel, but you didn’t tell him what you were painting. It was almost done, and you were adding the details by memory. You loved to study his face, all the fine lines and grays and sharp features of him as he fucked into you. He didn’t understand how much you adored him, how you relished the intimate moments not for the pleasure he gave, but for the closeness it brought.

But he didn’t look at you like you looked at him. When he did, it was almost too much; his eyes were fiery and alite. He made you feel like the center of the entire world when he dd, but for the most part, he didn’t. Not in bed. When he made love to you, if Francisco wasn’t there his eyes were closed.

“So you aren’t pregnant.” His voice broke through your thoughts.

When you look up from your work, he’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed and hip cocked. He was not pleased.

You will yourself not to cry. “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything as he stalks forward and you set down your brush. He looks at your painting.

“It’s you.” You whisper. It’s his side profile, the background is in flames.

“Am I burning?” He asks, incredulous.

You were quick to disued the idea that you’d paint any harm happening to your beloved husband whom you adored completely. “No! No, not at all! The, the background is, you see?” You use the brush to gesture to his picture. “You’re perfectly unscathed. It’s meant to represent your power… And maybe me?”

He turns at that. “You?”

You nod. “The priestess… she said, well she likened me to fire.”

Pope scoffs before turning to you again. “The Madonna is fire. The mother of the savior is fire. You’ve yet to prove yourself.” He look another look at your portrait and rolls his eyes. “Needs work.” With that he walked away.

You had a plan.

Maybe the reason you weren’t pregnant is you hadn’t won them over completely. You had Ben, William, and before this, Pope… the missing piece was Francisco.He wanted nothing to do with you, and how could you become pregnant when he didn’t want you? You were supposed to be one, a cohesive unit bound together. You needed him, and you needed to win back Pope.

Iris hadn’t been keen on the idea; she didn’t like people in her space, except for Reyansh it seemed. She allowed you in her kitchen with him if there were tasks she was comfortable letting you handle, or if you promised to stay out of her way. Today,however, you begged and pleaded to take over. You had very few personal items, but you had a cookbook from your mother, and you knew how to use it. It wasn’t like you were an amazing cook; that was Iris, she was incredible, but you were what you were doing.

“C’mooooon” Reyansh said, arms propped up against the table holding up his face as he gazed at her. “Take the night off.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t bad natured. She smiled when she talked to him. You wondered if they were in love, but no one had said anything. You hadn’t wanted to assume… but Reyansh looked her Iris the way Will looked at you.

“It wouldn’t be a night off, I’d have to stay here and make sure she doesn’t fuck it all up because it’s still my responsbility”

“I won’t mess it up!” You insist, following after her as she put groceries away. “I used to cook big meals for my dormitory all the time! And anything goes wrong I’ll take the blame!”

“No.”

You run in front of her, looking at her face pleadingly. “Iris, please, I’m begging you, I need to prove to them I can be a good wife!”

Iris looked at you, and you didn’t care how pathetic you looked. You needed this. She turns to Rey.

“You could work on something here while she cooks, free up a little time tonight.” Did he wink at her?

It’s working, you can see her thinking. “Well… I guess I could work on my sewing… it would be nice to get ahead of work…”

“YES! YES YES YES YES!” You jump and hug her, and you catch her and Reyansh smiling at each other.

It took 2 hours, but you never asked for help once. Rey tried to help, but you wanted it to be all on your own. Instead, he helped Iris darn socks and fix holes and tighten or loosen clothes. At one point, Iris came up to you and checked a few measurements on your body but wouldn’t tell you for what.

The meal was extensive, 7 courses.

Muse-Bouche: Miniature crab cakes with a spicy remoulade sauce.

Soup: Creamy butternut squash soup.

Appetizer: Olives stuffed with blue cheese.

Salad: Arugula and pear salad with a honey mustard dressing.

Main Course: Herb-crusted salmon

Cheese Course: Pepper jack was all you had, but it’d do.

Dessert: Dark chocolate mousse with raspberries.

When it was done, you were sweating, ready to run off and change before helping serve the appetizer course with Iris, when she stopped you.

“Here” Iris places a fabric in your hands, lavender and lacy.

You blink. “What’s this?”

She pushed you out the door towards the bathroom to change. “A new dress, thought tonight was a good night to debut it.”

It was stunning. All made out of lavender lace, with straps but also the soft fabric going off your shoulders. It was short, about knee length, and an a-line skirt. You looked beautiful, you had to admit. You didn’t like to be prideful, but this was really Iris’s doing

“And what did we do to deserve such a treat?” Will said, drinking his whiskey on ice in the parlor as you served the appetizer and muse-brouche. His eyes scanned over your body hungrily, and you had a feeling you’d be blessed with his mouth tonight.

You smile up at him, then try to catch the gaze of your other husbands. Francisco’s eyes averted to the floor, and Pope’s were icy cold. When you’d knocked on his door, excited and grinning to tell him you had cooked a feast for them all, he was unimpressed. Francisco was in his room, and you felt like you interrupted something, saying they’d be down in a few.

“Just wanted to show my appreciation for having such wonderful husbands.” You go on your tippytoes to kiss Will’s cheek Out of the corner of your eye, Iris passes Ben and you see her quickly turn around, and Will snaps.

“Ben!”

Ben flips his brother off. You don’t know what he did.

During the meal, the rest of the courses are served by Iris and Reynash. You haven't quite figured out Reyansh’s role here. He seemed to do a little bit of everything, lower level security that filled a variety of roles. Or maybe he was just around Iris a lot and she put him to work, you didn’t know.

Will and Benny complimented you, Benny wrapping you up in his arms and kissing you deeply as he told you how delicious it was.

You even get a small smile and thank you from Francisco, which is more than you got most days, and he let out a quiet mm eating the soup. It was a good sign, but it wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted him to love you, you wanted him to adore you the way you adored him.

You wanted Pope to look at you with anything but disappointment.

“Do you like the desert, Pope?”

He didn’t look up. You’d picked this out just for them, knowing how much he liked chocolate, and Iris said Raspberries were Francisco’s favorite fruit.

“Did Iris make this?” He said, poking at the half-eaten cake.

“N-no, I made…”

“Hm.” Pope stood up, setting down his napkin. “I can tell.”

He pulled at Francisco's collar and Francosco followed after him. Ben took the rest of their cake.

“God fuck’n DAMN!” The youngest man shouted with a mouthful of chocolate. “Baby I’m gonna fuck you so good for this.”

Will took your hand. “We love the food, princess.” He kissed you tender. “Thank you so much for taking care of us.”

“It’s…” You stare off at the wall, your heart breaking in pieces but trying not to show it. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful for what you were given by your two loves… but you needed them all. You were incomplete without them. “It’s my honor to take care of my husbands…” You say quietly.

He sighed, taking your chin in his hands and lifting them up to his blue eyes. “Madonna, look at me.” You do. “Pope is… he’s complicated. His moods come and go, it’s not personal.”

“But… I think it is… because Francisco doesn’t like me either…” You hate how weak your voice sounds. You want to be strong, you want to be the goddess you are but you aren’t sure how.

Ben’s mouth is full as he talks. “Frank don’t know a pretty girl if she slapped him, don’t worry about him.”

But you did, you did worry about both of them. You worried they wouldn’t love you the way you loved them.

You spent the night with Will and Ben. On your hands and knees you pleasured Ben with your mouth with Will stuffing himself in your cunt, both brothers showering you in praise and love. Will was unbothered by the blood it seemed, nor by the way your body was bloated with your period. They must have known how badly you needed reassurance, because after Ben pulled out of your mouth to cum inside your hole lubed up with his brother’s cum, they took care of you. Will cleaned you up and placed underwear with a fresh pad under you while Ben laid your head on his lap, caressing your hair until you fell asleep.

Or pretended to. You heard their conversation as they left you in your bed.

“You gotta take it easier on her, Ben”

“What was that if not easy. She literally fell asleep on my lap, that was romantic as fuck.”

“Not today, today was fine, I mean in general and you have got to stop with-”

“Shh!”

“Well if it’s supposed to be a secret maybe stop pinching her ass in public!”

“Oh for-” Your eyes open just slightly, you watch Ben drag Will out of your room. They continue arguing outside your door but you can’t hear them.

You don’t sleep that night. Terror of the night before consuming you, fear of the demon or the nightmare or whatever it was an anxiety that your husbands didn’t love you anymore. Pope you could understand. You’d disappointed him, you’d mess up… But Francisco never wanted you, you can see that now. Were you that attractive? Unpleasant? He was clairvoyant, could he see into your heart that you weren’t worthy?

You felt another panic attack coming. Fear was surrounding you and the dark room didn’t help matters. You needed something, you needed someone’s reassurance but you couldn’t go to Ben and Will, afraid of what they’d say. Did you not trust them enough?

Jonah’s voice in your head. ‘if you ever need anything, anyone cause you problems you come to me, alright?’

Soon, you found yourself at Jonah’s door in his quarters, knocking. You were barefoot and in our nightgown, but it was the least of your worries. You needed help, and you trusted him.

When he opened the door, his loose sleep shirt unbuttoned to reveal his chest and light sweats on the bottom half, his eyes were wide.. “What are you doing here?!” He whispers, looking down both sides of the hall and yanking you inside his room.

It was simple, but clean for the most part. There was a pair of boxers on the floor and a bottle of whiskey vodka opened on the bedside table.

“Hey!” He whisper-shouted, not looking pleased. “What the hell are you doing here?” He repeats a little harsher this time.

You blink. “I… you said if I needed something to come to you?”

“I-” He sighs, softening a little but still looking irritated. Or angry. You couldn't tell which. “Yes, yes I did, but honey it’s 2 AM, is this an emergency?”

Your lips quiver, eyes filling with tears. “Francisco doesn’t love me.”

He looked more confused than before. “Huh?”

You begin sobbing loudly. “Francisco doesn’t love me! And I messed up with Pope and now he’s mad but I, I can fix that but it’s Francisco! He doesn’t want me here! He doesn’t want me to be his wife-”

Your mouth is suddenly covered “SHHHHH!!!” The back of your head is thrust against the wall and you’re suddenly scared and confused. Jonah pinches his brows together, eyes closed. “Hon, that’s not- this isn’t an emergency” His body was pressed up against yours, and as soon as he realized it, he moved back but his hand on your face. It’s large, and you think it could cover your whole face.

You tried to tell him it was to you, that this is your life, your future, but your mouth was covered by his rough, calloused hand and his dark brown eyes so close to yours. You could feel his breath on your face. He’d been drinking.

He mutters a few swears, lets go of your mouth before running fingers through his graying hair. More swears.

“C’mon, let’s go.” He took your hand and cracked the door open, checking the hall again before pulling you out and dragging you several doors down the corridor, his loose shirt fluttering.

Iris opened the door to his knocks, and as soon as she saw you crying she ripped your hand out of Jonah’s and pulled you behind her. “What did you do!” She hissed quietly.

Jonah raised his hands in defense. “Nothing! She showed up-”

“Why is she wearing lingerie!”

He smacked his head. “It’s not like that, Iris! I didn’t touch her! She showed her here panicking about those assholes but you need to get her back to her room!”

You couldn’t see Iris’s face, but you got the feeling she didn’t believe him. “He’s telling the truth.” You whimpered through your tears. “I came to him,” Iris turned to you. “Because I was having a panic attack, but he didn’t touch me…” You didn’t tell her the close proximity he was his, his mouth on your face. You didn’t think it happened for the reason Iris thought it did.

She held onto your hand, pausing, then spoke. “Go.”

Jonah looked at you once more, guilt on his face before he nodded, telling her to talk to him when she got back.

Iris took you back to your room, turning on the light and facing you. “You cannot be alone with Jonah like that, do you understand me?”

You weren’t sure why she was so aggressive. Jonah was no danger to you. “He didn’t-”

“I don’t care what he didn’t do this time, but you need to listen to me, you are dangerous fucking territory, and you need to watch your back every fucking step before you or someone else ends up dead, got it? Don’t be stupid.”

She slammed the door behind her.

You only slept when you cried out all your energy.

WELL WELL WELL I gave some Jonah description for you horny Jonah girlies....

BUT ALSO! Jonah lore??? Why did Iris freak out?

LEMME KNOW THOUGHTS OR THOTS

Short chapter, not super eventful or spicy, but next chapter RAMPS UP THE SPICE

If you havnt seen, i've put out two bonus content

1 is FishBen, adding context to their relationship.

2. is the tik tok trend asking your boyfriend to peel your orange

if you have ideas for bonus content or any questions, DROP BY THE ASK BOX!!

Love interaction <3 I know we preach reblogs here but if you arent comfortable with reblogging dark content or even commenting, please consider dropping by the ask to show your engagement, I allow anons!

LOVE YOU ALL!

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zenosanalytic · 4 months

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I've been thinking about how to articulate a thought I had about a possible Doylist/non-diegetic reading(EDIT: I originally wrote "Watsonian" here, which is the opposite of what I meant X| X| Brain, you Tricksome Jester *shakes entirely metaphorical fist*) of Eridan's Trollian handle, caligulasAquarium, in response to a post of @mmmmalo's, and I think I've got it.

Ok So: the popular perception of Caligula is as a "Mad Emperor". One of the points used in this depiction is his "War on the Sea", which is taken as obvsl absurd and empty and irrational(and possibly hubristic). Eridan chooses to call himself "caligulasAquarium" and he lives in a wrecked ship(a feature commonly put in aquariums)... on the surface.

So like: maybe the title is meant to be taken by the audience as ironic. Eridan's claim to an "Aquarium" is as absurd and empty and irrational as Caligula's claim to have warred upon the sea(in the common understanding of those events; as a matter of history this seems to be a Telephone distortion, from the sources I can find).

A few more points that have occurred to me since I started writing this:

Caligula "Made War on the Sea"; Eridan wants to "Make War on the Surface" by Killing All Landwellers, carrying forward the themes of inversion btwn Alternia and Earth.

Also: "Kill All Landwellers", "Kill All Humans": he's lampshading common evil-alien-overlord tropes

...Which in itself is sort of dunking on HIM, since Eridan is nobody's overlord he's just some GUY. Like: Yes, he's "Nobility" due to blood-caste, but he has no influence, no power, no RESPECT from anyone we meet, no friendships let alone alliances with other socially powerful individuals(other than Feferi, who seems to have foresworn all that to monastically care for G'lybgolyb) that he could USE to have influence; he's just a loner with his grand-dad's gun and allot of pretension.

...which you could argue furthers his parody of USian internet white-supremacists? Like: He is THEM: a gun-humping loner who only feels comfortable talking to the people he claims to hate, with no idea how unpleasant he makes himself to interact with, and even less interest in introspection or self-awareness, fetishizing past genocides as a way to claim for himself a "Glorious Past" he had nothing to do with.

As Feferi(and possibly other characters I'm forgetting) point out, Eridan's ambition to Kill All Landwellers is more than a little absurd. He's never really DONE anything to plan or prepare for it, and aside from Fef he exclusively hangs out with and befriends Landwellers, as well as LIVING ON LAND(well: a sandbar or reef). This could be taken as furthering the Caligula "War on the Sea" parallel.

Expanding on the last: Caligula, THE EMPEROR OF ROME and Grandest of Nepo-babies, was rather notably disdainful of and hostile towards the Roman nobility and inherited wealth/rank. This connects to Eridan in two ways I can think of: 1) his avoidance of other seadwellers, and 2) his philosophical hostility to landdwellers while Being, in practice, A Landweller. Basically: both Hate things about themselves shared by others.

Reinforcing #3: the choice of Caligula, a Troll-Emperor. Again: Eridan is Just Some Guy; he does not command armies, he does not command society, he can't even command Equius, who GETS OFF ON being ordered around. This is Pretension.

...which, I guess, you could connect AGAIN back to Caligula via the popular memory of him wanting to be treated "As A God", but it should be noted that 1)everyone who wrote anything about him hated the guy and was explicitly dunking on him, so we don't know how accurate these charges are, and 2)in the Roman context, while legal apotheosis was reserved for after death, imperial Divinity was already de facto given that sacrifices and prayers to the Emperor's health and success were legally mandated civic religious duties, AND 3)that classical Greeks and Romans, contra the Abrahimic societies which would later create this popular memory, considered apotheosis a real possibility for notable individuals.

#Homestuck #Eridan Ampora #caligulasAquarium #Irony #zA Analysis #Homestuck Analysis #History #Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus #Caligula #Historiography #zA Writes #Our Staff #zA's Endemic Historicality #Watsonian vs Doylist #My Traitorous Brain #zA Corrections

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edenfenixblogs · 8 months

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Reminder! But be aware that many Jews use the term Zionist/Zionism in a way that you do not understand it/are not familiar with! Many Jewish people who you would define as Zionists and/or people who have all the same politics as you may:

1. Call themselves Zionists because it is a term with deeply individual meanings for many Jews

2. Not call themselves Zionists, but bristle at hearing the term “Zionist” be used as a pejorative because the history of the word Zionist being used as an antisemitic dogwhistle in leftism, communist Russia, and Arab extremist organizations (and because I am Jewish and on the internet I will state explicitly that no, of course I do not think all Arabs are extremists. I do not think all Muslims are extremists. I do not tolerate Islamophobia in any way on my blog or in real life. If I see a single even somewhat questionable instance of maybe Islamophobia in any replies here, you will be blocked and reported. I am taking the time to educate about Zionism as a dogwhistle, because I have chosen to tolerate a certain amount of feedback as a Jewish person. I am neither Arab nor Muslim so it is not my place to extend an olive branch of understanding regarding Islamophobia to you nor do I have any interest in doing so. I wholeheartedly condemn anti-Arab and Islamophobic hatred. As we all should)

3. Actively call themselves anti-Zionists because they define the term Zionism in a way that includes occupation, genocide, and expulsion

4. Actively call themselves anti-Zionists but still believe that Jewish people as an ethnoreligous group are inherently indigenous to the lands around Jerusalem while ALSO considering Palestinians to be indigenous to that same land.

5. Actively call themselves anti-Zionists because they oppose the formation of any religious state whatsoever, but still believe that Jews deserve to reside where they are right now without forced expulsion.

For non-Jewish people using the term anti-Zionism, I urge you to really think about what Zionism actually means to you as a term. Like what do you think that word is? What kind of person do you think a Zionist is? What assumptions are you making in the use of that term and is it fair to expect every Jewish person to agree with that definition and why do you feel that way?

And before anyone comments on me or makes assumptions about my stance.

I do not call myself a Zionist!

I deeply oppose the current government of Israel. I had the opportunity to go on a birthright trip to Israel, and declined to go because I do not support the subjugation of Palestinians. I also chose not to go, because at the time there was a spate of bus bombings. I have family in Israel that I have never met and cannot meet because I refuse to go there out of both personal fear AND political unrest AND political/moral opposition.

I support sovereignty and equal rights and liberation and self determination for all Palestinians. I believe Palestinians are indigenous to the land.

I also believe Jewish people are indigenous to the land. Since Hadrian’s expulsion of the Jewish people from Israel/Judea in 135 and the resultant formation of Syria Palestina, there has been no place that Jews have existed that has considered them foundational parts of society or that has not expelled us. We have always been considered settlers. There is no other place in which we could even conceivably BE indigenous besides the levant. I believe that the “whiteness” of modern Jews of European descent is a product of millennia of expulsion, resettlement, and relocation. I know for a fact that PoC Jews have also REMAINED in the region since the expulsion in 135 and if they’re not indigenous to there, then who on earth is?

I believe that indigeneity does not expire. I believe that the fact that Jews sing daily prayers about their history in Israel/the levant is pretty strong evidence that Jews all over the world have never lost their connection to the region. I believe that two thousand years is a long time.

I believe that it could not matter less whether Jews or Palestinians were there “first.” What matters is the strong cultural ties BOTH cultures have to the levant. What matters is that civilians have a safe government that they can trust not to commit genocide against them. To expel them from the land of their ancestors. To banish them to settlements.

I believe colonialism is wrong. I believe imperialism is wrong. I believe there’s even more I need to learn even after living in this conflict and diaspora my entire life. I do not believe that the land that exists there right now needs to be called Israel. I only believe that there needs to be safeguards in place at a governmental level that explicitly protects the sovereignty, safety, and legitimacy of Palestinians and the Jews who live there. There must be guardrails to prevent genocide against both groups. There must be some formal institutional mechanism to ensure the safety of both parties.

I believe that none of these ideas are in conflict with one another.

Anyone telling you that the solution is straightforward is lying or has plans to harm a large number of people. You are not special. You did not invent the perfect idea that no one thought of that magically solves the issues of statelessness, fear of displacement, expulsion, or genocide. If your plan only involves helping one group without regard to the needs of the other, it is a bad plan. If you don’t believe that Jews should be expelled from Israel, is that Zionism? If you believe Jews should have self determination and representation within government that protects their interests, is that Zionism? Even if the same self determination and representation exists for Palestinians? If you are a hardcore anti-Zionist and believe that Jews do not belong in i/p at all, where do the Jews go?

Where are the Jews indigenous to that isn’t Israel? Where do they go. Europe doesn’t want us. The rest of SWANA doesn’t want us. We certainly are not indigenous to the Americas. It’s been awhile since there were expulsions from Asia (as far as I know), but they did happen there. And Asian countries have very rich indigenous histories of their own that we have no place in. The United States is increasingly violent to us and is certainly nobody’s idea of a Jewish homeland.

If your argument against Zionism is that Jews don’t belong there, where do we belong? If your argument against Zionism is that Jews don’t deserve to ever leave diaspora and should not have self determination or protection, why not us too? Again, I have no desire to go to Israel!!! I have actively rejected offers to visit Israel!!!

I don’t call this set of beliefs Zionism. I don’t believe there is a term for this set of beliefs. But someone else might disagree. And that’s the point. I’m not shaming anyone who does or does not call themselves a Zionist.

#Zionism #antizionism #anti zionism #just be aware #calling yourself antizionist #may alienate Jews who agree with every single thing you have to say #even about Israel!#because you are working with different definitions #and they don’t know if antizionism to you means that you support Palestinian liberation #or if it means you support stripping Jewish Israelis of current protections under law #or if it means you want a new state entirely #it’s not really a useful term imo #I’ll probably take this down #because the internet is allergic to nuance #and is convinced that just because some things are fundamentally wrong #like genocide and apartheid and occupation #not everything has a fundamentally and objectively correct solution #life doesn’t work that way #again #for the millionth time #I am not a Zionist #I just refuse to condemn the whole term and anyone who uses the term #based solely on one interpretation of its meaning #it is a Jewish term #why are non-jews always trying to define Jewish terms

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nerdygaymormon · 6 months

Text

Queer Gospel Music

This past year I came across several songs that I enjoy listening to on Sundays. I created a playlist for myself for Sundays and thought I'd share with y'all.

Yet : Ashley Hess - Ashley Hess was a finalist on the 2019 season of American Idol. I heard her perform this song at the Gather Conference where she introduced it by saying, "The next song that I'm gonna play is a song that I wrote in my lowest time. But it's a song that's so special to me because it was the moment that I felt like I finally came out of hiding, and that the Lord not only saw me, but loved me and embraced me." I can relate so much to that. Plus, I don't hear many songs from the perspective of "I'm trying, so God please don't give up on me."

God Loves Me Too : Brian Falduto - Brian played the gay kid in the movie School of Rock, and catapulted the character into an LGBTQ icon when he delivered the line “You’re tacky and I hate you.” Now as an adult, Brian is back and singing that no one has to earn God’s love. Brian wrote the song after visiting a church that was welcoming and accepting of queer people. I look around and see I’ve found a place where peace and love abound. I’ve waited my whole life for the truth. It is true, God loves you. It don’t matter if you’re LGBTQ

My Little Prayer : David Archuleta - David wasn't out yet when he recorded this, but I imagine he really related to some of these lyrics, such as I'm beginning to understand that you (God) have a plan for me.

The Queer Gospel : Erin McKeown - I love these lyrics. There are those who think we're wicked. There are those who call us names: depraved, lost and sick, and would rather bathe us in shame. But we put the "sin" in sincere, we put the "do" in the doubt. God is perfectly clear. We are perfectly out. Love us as we are. See us and we're holy. In this shall we ever be wholly ourselves.

Good Day (feat. Derek Webb) : Flamy Grant - Matthew Blake was a worship leader for 22 years who has become a “shame-slaying, hip-swaying, singing-songwriting drag queen” named Flamy Grant (it's a play on the name of gospel singer Amy Grant). The lyrics talk of coming back to church after having left for feeling oppressed. They’ve come back to church because despite what some say, God’s love is expansive enough for everyone. God made me good in every way, so I raise my voice to celebrate a good day.

Believe : GENTRI - The pianist for this group is gay. After coming out, he was having a hard time with faith and was angry at God, and he felt God gave him this song as part of his healing process. Believe there is an answer. And while you feel you're buried deep in a disaster, believe more hands are waiting, ready to lift you up and carry you back to safety. You're not alone, keep holding on. And believe.

Explaining Jesus : Jordy Searcy - In 2014, Jordan was a contestant on The Voice. He grew up active in a church and since being on the television show he has written several religious songs, including this one. Jordy discusses the shortcomings of churches, comparing the ways in which church members act and interact with each other, including how they treat the gay community and oppress women. If you're gay and over 85, you've felt for your whole life that when God made you, he just messed up. In the chorus he apologizes that this has been the experience, I'm sorry no one explained Jesus to you.

Satan's Tears : Kyler O'Neal - Did anyone ask how real you are? Has anyone said that you are loved, or that you’re the one they’re dreaming of? Those questions start this beautiful song by trans woman Kyler O’Neal. The song addresses a young gender non-conforming person unaccepted by their world, and the singer promises to wipe away Satan’s tears which were created by a cruel society

Same Love : Macklemore & Ryan Lewis feat. Mary Lambert - Macklemore sings that his gay uncles should be allowed to marry, and speaks of how Christianity has hurt gay people. "God loves all his children" is somehow forgotten, but we paraphrase a book written thirty-five hundred years ago. The song concludes with Mary Lambert singing I’m not crying on Sundays, which I think means not letting religious intolerance and churches harm us anymore

No Place in Heaven : MIKA - Mika is singing about how religion teaches there’s no place in heaven for gay people because the way we love is sinful. Father, won’t you forgive me for my sins? Father, if there’s a heaven let me in

God Is : The Outer Banks - I don't know that they had queer people in mind when they wrote the song, but the lyrics relate to the conflict between one’s queerness and relationship with God. God was never angry. God was not against me. God was never far away. God is not disappointed.

I Know it Hurts : Paul Cardall & Tyler Glenn - I just wanted to believe, but how am I supposed to believe this about me? And then we find each other, queer church members who can understand what we’re going through, who know the hurt. For most queer people, they leave church and go on a different path. They’re not lost, a faint light at the end is guiding their way, they’re finding another way back home.

Losing My Religion : R.E.M. - The song was interpreted as the struggle of a closeted gay man coming to terms with what his religion taught about gay people and is seen as an example of queer coding in the era of “don’t ask, don’t tell.” Lead singer Michael Stipe had declined to address his sexuality, so when “Losing My Religion” came out, people assumed Stipe was coming out as gay. Consider this the hint of the century. Consider this the slip.

HIM : Sam Smith - This is a song about a boy in Mississippi coming out and the conflict between his sexuality and his religious upbringing. He is grappling with the feeling that there’s no place in church for him because he’s gay. Holy Father, we need to talk. I have a secret that I can’t keep. I’m not the boy that you thought you wanted. Please don’t get angry, have faith in me.

Pray : Sam Smith - You won’t see Sam in church, but they say they’re a child of God at heart and are begging God to show the way. I’m not a saint, I’m more of a sinner. I don’t wanna lose, but I fear for the winners

Faith : Semler - This song reached No. 1 on the iTunes Christian music chart and is about growing up queer in a faith community and how the rejection by the church left them scarred. When my religion turned against me, they said my hopes and dreams were faulty. I showed these holes inside my hands, and they claimed they couldn’t see.” Even as they struggled with the church, Semler kept a relationship with Jesus and flourished far more than she did in any church building. But I don’t wanna get small to be in those rooms

Hey Jesus : Trey Pearson - Trey made headlines in 2016 when as the lead singer of the Christian rock band Everyday Sunday, he came out as gay. Three years later and Trey has a question: Hey Jesus can you hear me now? It's been awhile since I came out, I was wonderin' do you love me the same? As a person who struggles to reconcile faith with sexual orientation, I find this song quite moving.

Heaven : Troye Sivan feat. Betty Who - Troye sings about what it’s like for a religious teenager to come out as gay. Without losing a piece of me, how do I get to heaven? Without changing a part of me, how do I get to heaven? All my time is wasted, feeling like my heart’s mistaken, oh, so if I’m losing a piece of me, maybe I don’t want heaven? Troye explains “When I first started to realise that I might be gay, I had to ask myself all these questions—these really really terrifying questions. Am I ever going to find someone? Am I ever going to be able to have a family? If there is a God, does that God hate? If there is a heaven, am I ever going to make it to heaven?” The video features footage from LGBTQ+ protests throughout history.

Revelation : Troye Sivan and Jónsi -This song was written for the movie Boy Erased, which is about a young man being sent by his parents to a conversion therapy camp to try to change him to not be gay. The lyrics are about feeling liberated from the toxic teachings he learned at church about LGBTQ+ people. It’s a revelation. There’s no hell in what I’ve found, and no kingdom shout. How the tides are changing as you liberate me now and the walls come down. In other words, God doesn't condemn me for my queerness.

Orphans of God : Ty Herndon & Kristin Chenoweth feat. Paul Cardall - The message of the song is we are all loved by God, we are all thought about, we are all created equally and God loves us all the same.

Midnight : Tyler Glenn - The Neon Trees frontman gives an emotional song about his departure from the Mormon church but not from God. The ballad is accompanied by a video that shows Glenn removing his religious garments and replacing them with a glittery jacket, which is such a powerful metaphor.

#queerstake

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gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan · 2 days

Text

Flee to Safety

Author's note: Thank you for @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric. Thank you @kit-williams for letting me borrow Arnault and Roland and helping me get their voices right.

Warnings: Petras is His Own Warning (he's mentioned and what he did Ramiel). Mentions of Major Character Death (temporary). Let me know if I need to add more.

Past =-= Next

Summary: Cedric heads to Ramiel to warn him about the Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras being in the city with a 'feral' 'warband' of Black Templars. They decide to head to Arnault and Roland to warn them. A Conversation Is Had.

Author's note: More of Ramiel in Husbandry.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

The pair scurry off and split directions, not-running to gather up the rest of their make-shift squad. Ramiel is dutifully tending to the Reclusiam on this base, murmuring the prayers and other tasks that he’d been assigned to do.

He feels a great sense of calm and peace as he tends to his duties. Granted, he knows that some of the older cousins from earlier Eras can be… uncomfortable with some of the more religious overtones of his work, so he tried to do it when and where it wouldn’t upset them.

“Ramiel,” he hears Cedric call out.

“A moment Ced, I need to finish this task,” Ramiel asks, “Unless it’s something that is vital?”

“… What I need to talk to you about can wait until you are finished with your task,” Cedric says.

Ramiel pauses, there is something about the way Cedric is speaking that has him pause in his task and watch his brother. His head tilting a little, some of the older Chaplains also noticing that Something Is Bothering Cedric and they are watching, but have yet to approach. Knowing how skittish Cedric can be around them.

“I’ll finish that task for you Ramiel,” One of the Imperial Fist Chaplains chimes in, “You take care of your brother.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ramiel says with a nod to the older Chaplain.

Ramiel follows Cedric to a more private area, “What did you need to speak with me about?”

“Catius spotted your mentor in town,” Cedric blurts out in a rush.

Ramiel’s ears don’t seem to be working as he blinks at Cedric. His chest hurts all of a sudden, and he blinks a couple of times. It’s hard to breath all of a sudden. He feels like he’s flooded with adrenaline, and yet like he’s been frozen solid all at once.

“W-what?” Ramiel stutters. "Why is he here. Again?"

“Your Mentor.” Cedric says again, “Is in the city. I don't know.”

“Th-at’s.” Ramiel croaks out, “What I thought you said.”

Ramiel is doing his best to calm down, closing his eyes and taking in a couple of deep, shaky breaths. His entire body feels like all of it’s nerves are on fire. He sees and feels that one of his hands are shaking and he slowly clenches and unclenches his hands.

“It is likely he’ll come to the Imperial Fist and Salamander base to… check in and re-supply among other things,” Cedric continues speaking.

“… As,” Ramiel pauses after taking in another breath and a few seconds pause, “members of the Black Templars. W-we are duty bound to… As-assist. Older Black Templars as is fitting.”

“Ramiel, you’re shaking,” Cedric says quietly, slowly, telegraphing his movements as he reaches out to grab one of his brother’s shoulders.

“A-as his m-mentee,” Ramiel continues speaking through numb lips, “I-I need to… t-to greet him pro-properly and see to his n-needs as he deems fit.”

“I don’t want him to kill you again,” Cedric says, “High Marshal Helbretch deemed us non-abominations and non-heretical.”

“I don’t want to be killed again either,” Ramiel whispers, “It hurt a lot the first time… Aren’t Roland and… And Arnault nearby?”

“Yes, they are,” Cedric says, his shoulders which had been up near his ears in a defensive hunch had gone down.

“We- we sh-should let them know that an... a-a Crusade of brothers is nearby,” Ramiel says.

Cedric perks up at that, yes- they should warn, er, let Brother Roland and Brother Arnault know about the Crusade. Also, they both know how strict the Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras can be.

He really would not like to know about the fact that Roland and Arnault have accepted the Warp-made bonds with baseline humans. Burn The Witch is a big deal for the Black Templars.

And… with The Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras’s temper… he would not react well to that at all. If he even knows that Warp Bonds are a thing. They don’t know if he does or not, and they don’t really want to stick around to find out.

They let Jophiel, Claude, and Catius know that they are going to head to where Arnault and Roland are. To warn them about the Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras and his warband being in the city.

“Stay safe, if you can’t, be smart,” Claude says seriously. His eyes are flickering from dark to teal to dark again.

“Eyes,” Cedric warns Claude after nodding.

The rest of them aren’t quite looking at Claude who takes in a couple of deep breaths to center, calm down and he says, “How do I look?”

“Like yourself,” Jophiel says.

“Good,” Claude says, “I’m going to head out hunting in the forest for… a while.”

“... I… I… should present myself to the Blood Angel and Lamenters base,” Jophiel says, his shoulders sagging in dread, hanging his head a little, “I’ve delayed informing my elder brothers of my arrival and seeing what they want to do with me.”

“If you are sure,” Cedric and Ramiel say simultaneously and with concern, “Don’t pull out your feathers, it will do you more harm than good.”

“I… am not sure, but it will likely be safer than staying in or near a base where a Primaris Killer is going to show up.” Jophiel says after a few moments of thought. “After all, it's … a lot of the older brothers and cousins are from Earlier times and Eras.”

They nod at that, and a few moments later Catius says, “I’ll volunteer for administrative work and, since Captain Ash’val knows, he’ll keep me busy and away from the, likely to visit, Black Templars.”

They know how protective the Salamander Scout Captain can be. They split off into different directions. Claude heading to the forest, Jophiel to the Blood Angel and their successor chapters base. Catius to Captain Ash’val and Ramiel and Cedric to where Arnault and Roland are likely to be in the city, avoiding the other Black Templars along the way.

They find the pair of older black Templars quickly, the pair of them talking about something in the local language. Arnault spotting them, sharp eyes assessing the pair of them. Roland as well, both of them going on higher alert, noticing how twitchy the pair of them are.

“What’s going on boys?” Roland asks lightly as he looks around, trying to see what has upset the pair of them so much.

Arnault’s hand lightly rests on his blade as he also scans the street, “let’s get off the streets and talk, ja?”

Cedric and Ramiel nod jerkily at that, Ramiel’s hands are shaking a little. Roland lightly rests one of his hands on Ramiel’s shoulders, while Arnault has laid a hand on one of Cedric’s shoulders. Their eyes sharpen a little when both of them flinch at the light, and are supposed to be grounding touch.

“A- ‘feral’ ‘war band’ of Black Templars has entered the city,” Cedric says, in stops and starts hesitantly.

Roland and Arnault felt their hearts sink a little at hearing that. They had grown quite fond of the pair of younger Black Templars. Neither of them wanted the younger pair to go with the War Band.

Also, they hadn’t exactly told them about… their social pariah status among most of the Black Templar War bands due to being Bonded. Also- they seem… rather scared and upset, rather than happy to hear about more Older Brothers nearby.

“M-my mentor The Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras,” Ramiel continues with an uncharacteristic stutter, as he subconsciously touches his chest, “is among their number.”

“He tends to be very strict,” Cedric says, “We wanted to warn, er, inform you that he’s here.”

“How strict?” Roland asks.

“... Very strict,” They both reply, not quite looking at them, curling in on themselves, trying to be smaller and take up less space.

“As an e-example of how strict he can be,” Ramiel says, his tongue feels fat in his mouth and it's gotten hard to speak, “When he deemed his Apprentice an ab-abomination and heretical in his existence. He… he decided to purge them and end my life.”

Arnault and Roland are now very concerned and alarmed. They look at each other briefly and them back to their younger brothers and then start almost dragging them out of the streets, they were going to head to Angela’s home, it was farther away from the Base than Roland’s Backerin’s place.

“That is a very big deal!” Roland snarls, as the shock wears off. “We are not letting this war band getting their hands on either one of you. Much less both of you!”

"Roland is right. If he is part of this crusade that is in town they certainly would not be friendly to you. You'll have to wait for the next one to come round." Arnault says trying to ease the tension, the grip on his sword tightening a little bit.

“We just wanted to warn you because he’s… got a bad temper as well as being very strict,” Ramiel explains, “We… believe that he won’t react well to you two being… Bonded.”

“I don’t think he’d intentionally harm Terran born humans,” Cedric says quietly, his eyes fog over with memories of the past, “but he has a… heavy hand for punishment.”

The older pair of Black Templars look at each other for a brief moment before Arnault starts to speak, “You’ve seen how The Traitors react when anyone gets near their Bonded, yes?”

Cedric nods, as an Apothecary he helps tend to the Bonded if they are sick or wounded in some way. Ramiel shakes his head, he’s not needed to offer comfort and a listening ear to Traitors or their Bonded, yet.

“They are simply… less inclined hide their feelings,” Roland continues the explanation, the words slowly rolling off his tongue as he continues to try and explain the Bonds to the younger pair of Black Templars in a way that would make sense. “There are Rules, you see.”

“The Traitors are far more willing to show their Aggression,” Arnault says looking towards Cedric, “Cedric, you’ve probably been taught on how to handle touching another Astartes Bonded.”

Cedric nods, “That is one of the first things they taught me before allowing me to tend to others at the Astartes run clinics.”

Arnault nods and then looks towards Ramiel, “Ramiel… You’ve likely not been told yet. But, those rules are in place to keep you safe.”

It’s very difficult trying to explain the unspoken rules about the Bonded that those who are Bonded, Renegade, Loyalist, and Chaos Traitors alike. Trying to inform the younger pair of Black Templars, trying to keep them safe as well.

“It’s an unsaid rule really… Unbonded aren’t trusted around humans as much,” Roland struggles to explain, “You aren’t exactly Feral… but you don’t understand. You won’t until you are … if you are… Bonded.”

“Just… if he knows what’s good for him… He won’t touch our Bonded.” Arnault says darkly with a promise of bloody violence in his voice.

Both of them tense up a little at the tone in Arnault’s voice, but slowly start to relax again. They are still… really Confused on the whole Bonded Thing. But they are listening with rapt attention to what Roland and Arnault are saying. Even if it doesn’t make much sense to them.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #warhammer #adeptus astartes #oc: Arnault #oc: Roland #oc: Cedric #oc: Ramiel #oc: Petras #black templar #black templar oc

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odinsblog · 1 month

Note

Saying israel isnt related to judaism is antisemitc, brah. Bar none. Israel is the second word in our most important daily prayer and "next year in jerusalem" our annual call to action during the Zionist holoday of passover where we celebrate going HOME to ISRAEL 😱. if you keep listening to the small majority of self hating, white passing american jews on tumblr you're gonna keep being called antisemitic cause you are.

netanyahu and the right wingers suck. So do the arab colonizers whove refused peace since the un told the muslim occupiers they had to share their atolen land with native and returning diaspora jews

[re: this post]

OMG, anon is this really what you wake up for in the morning?

I want anyone reading this to note that anon had to create a strawman argument to attack me for something that I never said

It’s weak sauce, “brah”

This is how some people have to argue when they cannot actually defend their feeble, misguided, deadass wrong opinions

Show me where I ever said that “Israel isn’t related to Judaism,” and I’ll delete my blog

What I said was, “Jewish people are Jewish whether they're religious Jews who have been to a synagogue, or not. Non-religious, non-observant Jewish people are still Jewish people. Intentionally conflating ‘religious Jews’ with all Jewish people is antisemitic,” and then I said that “conflating Israel with all Jewish people is also antisemitic”

It’s all right there in the post, “brah”

And how tf are “Arab colonizers” and Muslims “occupying” a place where they’ve been living since forever? Do you think that Native Americans are also occupiers??

Please stop talking

You’re embarrassing yourself

Arab peoples are Semitic, as are Jewish people. Jon Stewart once touched upon this extremely salient point, and I haven’t forgotten about it ever since. BTW, he wasn’t on Tumblr when he said this (and neither was Seth Rogan), but EYE definitely brought it to tumblr

And I think it’s cute that you think I care what Zionists call me. Like, I haven’t ever been called antisemitic, but it wouldn’t carry much weight coming from Islamophobic, racist zealots who routinely call other Jewish people antisemites just because they disagree with them—the bulk of the students protesting at Columbia University are Jewish (many with direct ties to Israel, or descendants of Holocaust survivors), but I guess somehow their voices aren’t supposed to count, because they don’t agree with YOUR fuckery?

Pfft

Please STFU and don’t bother me again

But just for added clarity: This is not a “religious” war, this is about ethnic cleansing, illegal settlements and land grabs that Israel has been doing nonstop and continuously since 1948

In conclusion, anon you are full of shit and about to get blocked if you continue with dropping this bullshit in my inbox, because I refuse to debate every rando with a keyboard and an internet connection—maybe try Discord or find a subreddit for r/assholes?

But before I go, I’ll leave this video (the transcript is in the original post)

and a link to this post, where people who actually know what they’re talking about explain it far better than I ever could.

#anon #ask #answered #palestine #israel #weaponized antisemitism #weaponized zionism #weaponized identity politics #identity politics #idpol #anti zionism ≠ antisemitism #columbia university #student protests #campus protests

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onnahu · 3 months

Text

Jason Todd Fanfiction

Tw: death, religious trauma, mentions of drugs, violence and homelessness

So yeah, I had a rough week, and on easter my religious trauma have the time of life, and I remembered that Jason canonicaly grew up catholic. So did I. It was easy from there. It's rough, not edited, and that's why it's for now only here, I'll get it on ao3 later, after some smoothing over.

When Catherine fell ill, she said 'it's a part of God's plan'.

Jason didn't really understood it then, he was 6, but he knew his mom was strong and smart and knew everything, so he agreed, and went play with his neighbours.

When the mony was tight, she took him to church and prayed. He kneelt beside her, but didn't really know what to do. He knew the Lord's Prayer, but it never felt right. It was hard to belive there was some big guy up there, that loved them, and yet made them live in an apartment with mold and non-airthight windows. It just seemd counterproductive. If you love someone, you should wsnt the best for them. Like his mom wanted the best for him. But his mom prayed, and his mom knew best, so he knelt beside her and prayed along.

When Willis got arrested, his mom said that god will help them. She said they should prey, and so they did. Jason thought it was stupid, but didn't said anything.

When Willis went to prison, his mom took him to the church, again, and told him to pray to god for help. He knelt beside her, but didn't prey. He knew there wasn't anyone there listening to him. And even if there was, he for sure didn't care for them.

When his mom got worse, and her medicine was too expensive, so she had to take the other 'medicine', she often sent him to aunty Mei next door. Jason knew what drugs were, and he wasn't stupid. He knew it didn't really help his mom, but so did her prayers, and drugs were at least real. And she wasn't in pain so much. That had to be enough. When his mom was too weak to get up on sunday, aunty Mei took him to the mass instead of her. He didn't tell his aunty that it was bullshit, because she would get angry and tell his mom, and his mom would be sad, because she still believed. So he went silently and on their way out he picked up a few dollars from the collection. If he had to be there, he would at least do something useful. It was always a little more to their budget, a little less of his mom's worry.

When his mom died, he cursed god out. He screamed and cried and sweared and he hated god, hated the world, hated his dad, hated his mom, hated all his aunties and uncles, and above all, he hated himself. When he was done, he packed up all the money left, his warmest clothes, a few photos he hidden in his favourite book, everything that looked like it was worth something, so he could sell it, soap, all the food that was left, a pack of cigarettes, his dad's old pocketknife and a tire iron. He stuffed it all in a dufflebag, and then knocked on aunty Mai's door. He told her that there was something wrong with mom. When she came into their apartment, he took off. She would call 911. He wasn't going to wait on CPS so he could be sold out or packed into some awful foster-home. He was better off alone. He always was.

In winter, he found himself in the church. It was warm, and he could be ther a whole hour of the mass. He got all the money from offerings, and later got himself a warm meal. Church wasn't that bad after all.

He was hiding from some thugs that didn't like him taking their tires. They shouldn't have left their van alone if they had a problem, Jason thought. They didn't like his argument and started to beat him up. He menaged to run away, and was hiding behind a dumpster. They were close. He could hear them. He started to pray. They didn't find him.

The next time he was hiding and started to pray, they found him and beat the shit out of him. He, once again, got reminder of why he could only rely on himself.

When he met Batman, and then Bruce, and then Batman as Bruce, he was happy. Fate finally smiled at him. He found out Bruce also belived on god, but it wasn't (or was? It was confusing) the same god his mom had. He didn't tell him that it was bullshit, because he wasn't stupid, thank you very much, but told him that he wasn't gonna belive in him. Bruce said it was alright, and that was it.

When he was laying on that werehouse's floor, watching the numbers fall, he heard Sheila praying. He didn't call her out on that bullshit, because honestly, he wanted to pray himself. Only she prayed to god, and he wanted to pray to Bruce. He knew it would mean jack shit, but it would be nice to believe someone was coming. He didn't pray. I stead, he got up and dragged his broken body towar Sheila. He positioned himself so he would take to most of the bomb's blow. It propably wouldn't save her, but he wanted to at least die doing something good. She didn't paid him any mind. She was still praying. When numbers on the display wen 3, 2, 1, she was still praying. She died with pray on her lips. He died with the bitter flavor of dissapointment, pain, resignation and hate on his lips. He never heard the batmobile's engine so close to him. He never heard the broken-hearted scream of a grieving father.

When he woke up in his coffin six feet under, he thought two things. First, that if god really exist, he must really hate Jason. Second, he also has a sick sense of humor. To be honest, if he wasn't already screaming, maybe he would laugh too.

#jason todd #red hood #robin #batman #dc #dc comics #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #religious trauma #unedited #catholic jason todd

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mirdance · 2 years

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Innamorati

Summary: Darling, even though you might be shared amongst all the Fatui Harbingers, remember who you serve and where your loyalties lie. Remember who saved you. Where this ice rests in eternal sleep, the gods cannot hear your prayers. Only I can. Pairing: Pierro x Reader Rating: NSFW. Implied sexual content, yandere, emotional manipulation, mind games, referenced non-con acts, religious imagery

Notes: This is part of a Fatui Harbinger collab where each Harbinger shares a darling. As usual with me, there will be smut later. Shoutout to Sunnie who created this beautiful header.

Recommended Music. AO3.

Fools preach the joys of worship. Within the Celestia I saw why the gods do not communicate with open arms. That moment judgment forces you to recount what has sat at the center of your soul, pried away like a newborn's first cry, you'll not talk of joy.

Pierro flipped the page. Stains and tears lined the edges, only a reminder of the cycle which fell to all. Each carefully turned page, the sound of ticking, and your soft snores were the only sounds that sailed through the chilled air of his study. An unfinished game of chess sat on the table between you like a forgotten memory.

Sleep. A rarity for any of the Fatui. The moonlight trickled through the window behind him. Cascading snowy shadows decorated the pages of his book. Though snow blanketed the landscape outside, the piles would never completely cover the ambitions of the Snezhnayian people. Like the weight of moonlit snow on pine branches, the soul held strength to endure.

What sort of things would you endure?

He’d thought the chess game before him would provide useful intel. Games and toys were worthwhile if they were useful. Take a children's slingshot, for example. While entertaining for the young, it also served the purpose of teaching survival. Dolls taught young ones the art of conversation. Stuffed animals provided some substitute for the innate instinct of touch. A proper toy also served as a tool.

Taking the toys away or losing them also taught important life lessons.

But the so-called toy that sat before him had yet to elaborate on its gifts. Striving to hone one's abilities was one of the beauties and curses of human nature. For each of the Harbingers, a toy's survival differed. For Pierro, useless toys were unneeded. While many collect toys to sit and look pretty, his toys needed to provide.

Another page.

"Who knows if the gods understand the greatness of the human soul, even while watching us prattle the secrets of our lives. Human suffering is a power in its own right, one they could never fathom. A god's memory reeks of apathy while treachery against the tormented lasts for generations. The people cry out in holy prayers--dirt embedded within the nailbeds of their crossed fingers--for rest. Yet Istaroth never provides the time for that peace, and prayers on one's knees only waste daylight. The cathedral words fade as a snowflake upon winter heaps until they are all but frozen as one beneath boot prints. Still, the gods demand that knee, as if they already didn't have the universe."

Another page.

Gusts of wind bellowed against the trembling window. Your eyes slowly opened and took a moment to process the setting like a mammal coming out of hibernation. Pierro continued reading while your brain and body took its time to catch up with being awake.

He'd spent hours playing chess with you. After all, the other Harbingers often put your body to its limits; it was only kind of him to provide you with what was probably a much-needed break. Falling asleep was not what he had in mind for that break, but he had a text to analyze, anyway. There was always something to do, and his toy didn't provide much usefulness in the things needing done.

Your upper lip moved in hesitation to permit words, an apology probably, but you quickly tightened your jaw. Some comrades did not enjoy being spoken to without speaking first. Pierro did not care unless the words were pointless. Of course, the meaning of words differed from individual to individual. What words a person provided told their story.

What was your story?

Words also provided layers like the blanketed snow above deadly ice above freezing waters. They veiled and masqueraded. Yet that, too, told a story in itself.

"The way you silence yourself reveals much of what you've had to endure," Pierro commented while flipping another page. "Speak freely with me unless I deem otherwise."

You bit your inner cheek and eyed the chessboard as if it would change design by sheer will alone. "Forgive me, but hearing you say that provides little comfort in this situation."

"I know we've gained little ground in terms of mutual trust, but what you provide for the Harbingers is paramount. In my presence, though, I've yet to see its fruition. Alone with me, you do not have to sit and look pretty, even if it is a pleasant side benefit."

You didn't bother with your next move even though it had been your turn before slumber reached. "Well," you croaked, testing the sounds against your alveolar ridge. "What book are you reading?"

"It’s the journal of a fallen soldier," he answered, which was not totally a falsehood. "A rather blasphemous book to many. Are you religious?"

You shrugged. "I suppose it depends on who's asking."

Smart. "I see. So, you are not religious. It seems we have something in common."

You shifted your legs. "That's a surprise, considering your loyalty to the Tsaritsa."

"Indeed. For her, I am devoted. One could see that in a religious sense depending on the perspective. Is there anything to which you are devoted?"

The chess pieces remained as thoughts circled your mind, reflected through your pupils. "Not anything I can think of at this time."

Bold. "Everyone is devoted to something, even if they do not see. Tell me, are you familiar with Mondstadtian theatre?"

You shook your head. Your eyes briefly flickered to his and back to the board again.

"For monarchs of old, royalty kept a court jester. Jesters had many vocations within their role. Comedic relief was one. The same goes for the jester of a play. Often these Fools would point out shortcomings within royal meetings or people and stories in humorous ways. Like a dance of death, teetering on offense yet accurate. The audience laughs, yet those with understanding know what lies beneath the surface of the hilarity. The Jester knows all, the story from beginning to end, as well as the enigmas of each character."

He flipped a page before speaking again.

"Some people might say the Fool not necessary for a good story. Why have a clown recite the story when the words are already presented to you in the form of dialogue"

He continued scanning his pages.

"Ah," you spoke. "Probably so the audience knows when they're being tricked and what they're up against. Maybe the interpretation is less convoluted that way?"

Interesting. "Some would view that as hand holding. If the Fool's words are even to be trusted, of course. Many a people make for unreliable narrators, and that includes Fools. Still, the importance of their position within the story is unlike any other."

"I didn't take you for the humorous type," you commented carefully, almost biting the words back as if you'd accidentally bitten your tongue.

He chuckled. "Maybe not, no. I am not necessarily devoted to any sort of typical humor, but the role itself is fascinating, wouldn't you agree?"

You nodded.

Dialogue, the art of conversation, would pierce through you yet.

“To circle back to your inquiry. Ah, before that, tell me,” he ran his fingers through his beard. “Are you literate?”

You nodded.

He waited a few beats for you to elaborate, but no sound came. Still, being literate at all was a feat in itself. Just how literate were you was the question. He stood from his chair with book in hand and knelt beside yours. With a flick of his thumb, his saved reading spot was open to your eyes.

“Care to join me in the pleasure of reading?” he inquired. “You can go first.”

With a careful nod, you cleared your throat to begin. “Waylaying the plans of a god might seem prideful to those without ears to hear, but what would man say if that same god took the innocence of their child away? I have reached the heavens, only to see a throne in name. The same throne that grants vision in the same breath that it snuffs them. Waning though I am, I can still remember the tiny fist of my daughter, stamping her knuckles against her game bored at her loss. In the same way, gods demolish the board rather than admit their wrongdoing.”

You paused in thought. The edge of your braid tickled his arm as you leaned to glean more of the book’s content. And then you spoke. “When I was a child learning to read, I remember my mother gifting me a fairytale. The tale featured a bear that couldn’t fish. Though the reading level was simple, the words confounded me. After many desperate attempts, I threw the book against the wall.” A chuckle softly escaped your lips. “My mother in the next room never even heard.”

“You seem to be doing fine now,” he noted.

“Yes, I’ve…had plenty of opportunity to study. Not to mention that little me was also very determined to pick the book up off the ground the next day and try again.”

“Do you think the gods in this story similar to your dilemma as a child?”

You pondered the question. “While I’d need more context, I’d say the message the author is trying to implicate here is that the gods in this tale act more like petulant children rather than trying to learn or grapple an understanding of their creation.”

Pierro hummed in approval. “Maybe the gods aren’t ignorant or weak as much as they are prideful.” Though every single being, including gods, had a weakness. Felling a god proved difficult, but once fallen, it was a matter of destroying the remaining shades.

“I would say that is the downfall of many,” you replied as your eyes scanned more words on the page. “But it could also be a strength, I think, depending on the context.”

Pierro shifted on his knees and beseeched you to elaborate.

“Well, taking pride in your accomplishments is one of the beauties that life affords us, I think. Feeling proud for creating something nice or doing well. Those are normal human emotions. With anything, it can become a burden if you allow.” You gestured towards your barely touched glass of wine. “Like alcohol.”

“Are you not one for wine? Or was it not to your taste?”

Your hands quickly gestured in disagreement. “The taste is delectable I just…have learned that having smaller amounts makes for more pleasant company.”

Or you were wary of what one might put in a drink, Pierro mused. Not to mention that clarity was vital when dealing with Harbingers. Not that Dottore kept such things in mind; wine was probably restful in comparison with whatever medications he played with. Pierro didn’t begrudge your slowness of drink. On the contrary, having such mindfulness of your surroundings was endearing.

“There is no need to worry.” He took one of your hands —cold to the touch— in his and rested it in your lap. “I am more curious about your mind. While wine is certainly one way into a person’s mind, I would prefer yours to be unclouded.” Gaining trust without the help of alcohol proved more useful in the long run.

You did not push his hand away. “My mind,” you whispered. Your gaze fell to the side along with a chuckle that puffed from your dry lips. “Would you dissect me like Dottore?” Pierro chuckled in turn. “Not physically, no.” “Why was I chosen to be here,” you quickly pleaded. Your hand trembled slightly beneath his own. “My talents are miniscule, even if all you people wanted was a fuck toy.”

Your brashness struck him as if you’d struck him with his book. “Interesting. So, you think you are nothing but a fuck toy. Tell me, don’t you take pride in anything?”

“I used to.” Someday you’d elaborate without being prompted. He was certain. “What was something that you used to have pride in then? If I might be so bold, I do not think it was chess.”

Now that caused a laugh. “No, but it was something similar. Fencing. The sport. Smallsword style. It is often said that fencing is like chess at the speed of light.”

That was news to him. Glancing at your arms and thighs, he could tell even through the fabric you wore. One bicep protruded more than the other, and even with one eye he could see the shapely tone of your legs that drifted down the plush chair as gracefully as a ballet dancer. While the sport itself was not one hundred percent in tune with combat abilities, it did prove useful for many instances. Were you competitive? Judging by the unfinished chess board, competition was not at the forefront of your mind.

“Fascinating. I have heard that such a sport is popular in Fontaine. Did it originate there as well?” He’d known the origins, of course, and he’d known that those origins were not the true origins. As with most things of this world, beginnings were buried within the surface away from prying eyes. To know the beginning would be to know the fragility of the world and its creators. Perhaps some would think it best to keep such things buried beneath the dirt so that those who could abuse such knowledge kept away.

“The origins are a bit complex, but the sport derives from many different cultures,” you chirped, pulling your hand away from his and to your chest.

Pierro encouraged you to go further. He wanted, needed, to hear what you could put forth. And as the words poured from your mouth, he was blessed with an output of excitement that slowly bubbled from your stomach to your esophagus to your tongue until it settled in the sporadic gestures of your palms. Endearing could certainly describe the scene, but only time would tell if the joyful glint in your eyes was simply because you hadn’t had a proper conversation in so long. Either way, the passion you bestowed pierced the very air like a perfume.

During a pause, Pierro spoke up. “Would you call yourself adept with the blade?”

The book had been long closed and set to the side, yet he still lingered by your chair’s side to follow your gestures and eyes.

A slow and steady grin graced your lips. “Well, I wouldn’t say I’m awful. Sometimes I helped the local children. There are many people better than I, though.”

“There will always be those that are better than we are, even with the things we are passionate about. It seems, though, that perhaps this is something you could take some pride in, hm?”

You exhaled. “Maybe so.”

Silence hung in the air with the unspoken; your arrangement did not provide you time for leisurely pursuits. Pierro doubted many of his Harbingers allowed for such times. He would find out, though, and with each piece of information he could understand where their mindsets lie. This was especially important considering the unrest that trembled through the Fatui. The unease that came with death and ranks and betrayal.

Pierro rubbed his thumb gingerly over the leather of his book, waiting to see if you’d continue your tantalizing speech.

You did not.

Instead, your eyes fixated on the chess board.

Pierro gripped the book in his hand and lunged his arm forward toward your chest. Surprise lined your features, yet your arm instinctively parried his attack to your right quarter. As if on instinct, you riposte with your hand to his chest. After a momentary victory grin, shock flushed your features; you stilled as frozen as a prey. Your hand stayed resting on his chest, probably unsure of how to proceed. Striking a Harbinger, whether a form of self defense or not, could be detrimental for you unless otherwise granted permission. Perhaps you’d become so wrapped in the conversation that you’d forgotten where you were.

Which was the idea.

Pierro bowed his head slightly forward and gently pressed his hand over yours. “It seems the touch is in your hands. The point goes to you.”

Your hand quickly retracted; you held it to your chest. “I didn’t know we were…sporting. I apologize.”

He chuckled. “Well, you didn’t seem interested in chess, so I figured the scene could use something you might be interested in.” “Why…” you stuttered. Your brows knit together as your jaw clenched. “Why would you care about what I’m interested in?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” Pierro replied calmly. He leaned his elbow on the armrest of your chair. “I’m interested in getting to know you.”

“Why.”

“Why does anyone want to get to know another?”

“To use them.”

“That could be a reason for some. But aren’t we all using each other, then? Even for love, comfort, contact, companionship. Basic human needs. One works for his employer to feed his family. Another works to surpass his employer. Each culture and society dictate which reason is more noble. Do you find one more noble than the other?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know anymore. Most might say love or companionship. But I…” You hugged yourself. “Food. Less pain. If that. If I can get those things, I’d do anything. Who gives a fuck about getting to know each other when I’ve hardly eaten in two days and my arms hurt from getting slung around? The bruises haven’t even healed.”

You winced before Pierro could even blink, most likely expecting a blow that never came. Pierro was not one to succumb to anger as easily as some of his Harbingers. Your anger only opened you up more, made you more vulnerable. In some ways, it was beautiful.

He gently took your chin between his fingers and watched water form into droplets that welled from the corners of your eyes and cascaded down your cheeks. He ran a thumb along one of the water trails and took a tear onto his thumb. Your lower lip shook as you tried to bite back the emotions. It had probably been many moons since you’d had a moment to allow yourself the time to anguish. To grieve everything you had lost.

“It’s okay to cry for now. The range of human emotions knows no bounds, and you may not get the chance to mourn later. But your basic needs. I will provide them. You will not be without food, shelter, or clothing. You will not lose your life here. In exchange, I need something from you.”

He continued wiping away the wetness of your face with the cuff of his sleeve.

“Become a Harbinger.”

“What?”

“I cannot promise you complete safety or status. But if you become my eyes, I can make things more bearable for you. All I need is loyalty and what comes with that.”

“That…that sounds too good to be true,” you croaked. “I don’t really want to be a Harbinger…what does that even mean for me?”

“When you’re on duty with another Harbinger, I need you to report every single detail to me upon return. You will receive a new name. You’ll most likely stay within headquarters, but that does not mean you will not ever go out into the field. This likely means bowing to their whims just as you do now. Possibly more so since you will be their underling. But along with your information comes my promise to provide you with more comfort.”

“So I’m just a spy?” You laughed. “Just another tool?”

“Do you have any other choices?”

You frowned at the floor for a moment, catching yourself about to speak and then slamming your lips shut. Pierro would allow you time, of course. Not that you knew that. It was easier to catch you in this moment than allow time to think. Either way, you’d take the opportunity. Pierro would probably do the same if he were in your shoes.

“I’ll do it.”

“Well, then,” he softly grabbed your clenched hand and leaned to place his lips against your knuckles in a kiss. “Your partnership is appreciated. Your name is now Innamorati, number twelve of the Fatui Harbingers. Though we bow to her Majesty the Tsaritsa, never forget where your loyalties lie.”

Number twelve and traitor to them all. Official ceremonies and authorization would be yet to come, but you didn’t need to know such things. What mattered was the power of the mind, how you viewed yourself, your choices, and your duty. All of which aligned with the stage he’d set to play. While the physical chessboard sat dormant to the side, a more important one laid in the palm of the hand that held yours.

#pierro #pierro x reader #pierro/reader #yandere fatui harbingers x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #mir writes

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born-4-this · 2 months

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🎨 - @/CROWNEDINMARIGOLDS

🙏This is an in character Vampire: The Masquerade/World of Darkness Blog🙏 📿My Personal Blog - Call me Chiss👋 Any pronouns work 📿 🙏 While I try to avoid it, I may well get details wrong; I wasn't raised Catholic nor am I one irl.🙏

👇Character Info 👇 [+ rules @ the bottom]

[Image Source: The Red Sign, p. 94] [Revised Era Sourcebook] [Artist: Vince Locke, his website]

You shall not eat the blood of any creature, for the life of every creature is its blood. Whoever eats it shall be cut off. [Leviticus 17:14]

BRIEF INTRODUCTION Billie Caruso. Soon-to-be Nun, shunned.

Raised by members of the Clergy who had every intention having her follow the through-line straight into ranks of the Society of St. Leopold's oft mistrusted sister order The Order of Saint Joan, Ms. Caruso was denied even so much as a chance to pass her Novitiate and become a full-fledged Sister let alone learn the many and varied truths about what truly goes bump in the night the "proper" way. Embraced at just 19 years of age, wholly dedicated and devout - unpopular with the more-set-in-their ways sisters as her opinions might have been, Billie isn't sure where she went wrong to be shunned so absolutely; besotted with Cain's mark and left to fend for herself... The Good Lord has plans for all of His creatures; perhaps this isn't just a penance to be paid... After all, He has bestowed her with: - 'Visions', like her beloved Joan. A daunting task to heave upon her shoulders, but one nonetheless undertaken dutifully. - The oft sought-after gift of being able to bask in the sun's warmth while being Cain's mark. [which, in turn, allows her to observe the Canonical Hours for prayer as she would have during her Novitiate.] Suffice to say, she's still trying to figure it all out and stay 'alive' at the same time. To that end, she interviews willing Full-Blooded cainites when and where she can in an effort to gather her bearings.

[Eugène-Romain Thirion || Joan of Arc listening to her voices]

MERITS

Faith Proof [V5] [Thin-Blood] Whether you consider yourself an atheist or devoutly religious, you remain too close to mortality for True Faith to affect you.

Day Drinker [V5] [Thin-Blood] She's walking on sunshine.

Ingenue [V5] (•) You look completely innocent and blameless, making others believe in your good intentions much easier.

Linguistics [V5] [Latin] (•) Fluent.

Tempered Will [V5] (•••) Your stubborn spirit didn’t die during your Embrace, and you find yourself knowing when people are trying to force you to do something against your will. [Aware of Dominate/Presence attempts]

FLAWS

Night Terrors [V5] [Thin-Blood] She has nightmares she's incapable of remembering until the most inopportune of times... She assumes these to be visions from God and the Heavenly host.

Vitae Dependency [V5] [Thin-Blood] Her, nominally non-existent, disciplines require feeding from a full-blooded vampire once a week to use.

Knowledge Hungry [V5] (Noddism) You always feared that you wouldn’t have the time to learn everything you wanted about what’s truly important. Well, that’s one problem solved. The time to learn is not always now, though — you regretfully put a bookmark in your studies and attend to more life-threatening matters.

No Haven [V5] She has, and you'll never believe this, no haven to call her own.

LORESHEETS

Novice (••) [LS: THE SOCIETY OF ST. LEOPOLD] [Chicago By Night, p. 285]

Your interest in entering into a profession of faith went deeper than most: you were on the verge of entering into your novitiate when that life was permanently torn away from you. Whether you resent this or have accepted it, you retain a considerable amount of interest in and potential contact with members of the local church. These Contacts (equivalent of ••) would naturally include your confessor, the members of the order you were seeking to enter who oversaw your training, fellow novices, or members of the local congregational volunteer groups.

[Bartolome Esteban Murillo || Our Lady of Sorrows]

RULES N' SUCH:

Minors, away with you. 🫵(blocked where spotted) [have a good day, though!👋]

Note: I'm 21.

if anything ever crosses a line or comes across as particularly pointed, please do not hesitate to lmk!!

If you ever have any questions ever/would like a source on a piece of lore I refer to/in general - I'm always happy to help!

Still new-ish to Tumblr RP, please have mercy on me; Caine bless.

RESOURCES

State of Grace [Link to Buy] [Revised Era Sourcebook] [How the children of Caine interact with and adapt to practicing their religions]

Both Hunters Hunted II [V20 Sourcebook] and The Inquisition [Revised Sourcebook] have very, very brief snippets of lore about the Order of St. Joan. Truth be told, you would be better going off to the White Wolf Wiki for information on them as it's 1.) Free 2.) All there.

"Poor little creatures!" she said. "What can a person's heart be made of that can pity a Christian's child and yet can't pity a devil's child, that a thousand times more needs it!" [Mark Twain's Translation of: Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc]

#OOC

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retkotevidjamsadevojkama · 10 months

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Being Serbian and not religious is complicated enough, but being queer on top of that is even more complicated and that's concerning.

You see, Serbs have a very unique history and bond with religion. Serbia was under Ottoman rule from the middle of the 15th century up until the begging of the 19th century which is a long long time. Being a part of Ottoman empire meant that they wanted to assimilate you and there were many awful things they did due but i won't go into that rn. What was weird about Ottoman empire compared to other oppressors was that they never banned different religions. Obviously your life would have been easier if you became muslim but it wasn't like they killed you for not doing that as Romans did. So Serbian people became very close to the church and it bound all of the folk customs and holidays to itself and saved them which is a great thing and I'm so thankful for that but nowadays it's impossible to separate them. Every aspect of culture is somehow made christian and Serbian people have accepted orthodox christianity as a part of their national identity. You can't imagine how many people I've met who were confused about how can someone be Serbian if they're not christian. And most of them don't even believe in God or what christianity preaches, it's a national identity for them. They can't imagine what Serbs actually are beyond the religion and it's sad.

Other important thing is that all of the holidays and customs are pagan. They have been pagan and then Serbs got christianised in a quick way which means that they just masked the paganism in chriatianity and called it a day. There's practiced whichcraft in Serbian orthodox christianity and people refuse to call it that because it's a normal christian thing for them. There's prayers, healing watter and oils, plants, various rituals for various days (not just Easter and Christmas but even those are completely different than how other christians celebrate them), there's days where you don't work or do certain things so that you don't get God angry, there's future predictions by looking in a cup or reading in the coal or hot iron and various other customs and beliefs. And no one accepts them as anything but chriatian.

So yeah separation of religion and nationality is crucial for Serbian people to move forward but it's also very hard to do and it's beneficial to the government so no one is doing anything about it. Nationalism is unfortunately on the rise among Serbian people and obviously christianity is also. There's people who are ready to fight for "holy places" and Serbian (read christian) values. There's diaspora that's trying to reconnect with their nationality and they just fall into christianty and nationalistic propaganda and it's awful. Most of these people are cowards so I have hope they won't do anything stupid as starting another war but it's still concerning. When your national identity is so strongly bound to christianty a threat to christian beliefs is a threat to your nationality and you already know who falls into that "threat" category.

Also, pagan slavic spaces got infected by fascists and white slavic supremacist? It's like what happened in nordic pagan spaces. I know I know it makes no sense for south slavs to be fascists when ww2 fascists targeted them but you have to understand that these people aren't smart enough to understand that and are egoistic enough to twist things to better suit their beliefs.

That's why queer Slavs and queer folk art and queer history of slavs is so important and even revolutionary in times and places like these. And of course this post is not against christians. One of my favorite things are loving non bigoted christians, especially if they are queer themselves.

#serbia #serbian #balkan #slavic #history #slavic history #christianity #orthodox christianity

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jaspersreprise · 2 months

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My own connection with Paganism

Hello! Today, this posts particular penchant will be relating to my experiences and connection with a spirituality called Paganism, which is something you must’ve already heard before :)

Before I continue on with it, I’ll define what Paganism is and how it impacts peoples lives for those who don’t know.

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Paganism is a collective term for a wide range of ancient and modern religious systems, many of which focus on worshiping or honoring nature, ancestors, gods, spirits, or other divine, supernatural, or mystical beings. The term 'Paganism' comes from the Latin word 'paganus', which means 'rural' or 'country'. In the past, paganism has often been used as a pejorative term to describe the religions of non-Christians, and was often associated with superstitious or 'barbaric' practices.

Paganism is often marked by a strong connection to the natural world, and many pagans believe in a deep interconnection between all beings and the surrounding environment. While different religions or sects within Paganism have different beliefs and practices, many pagans are concerned with a connection to the cycles of nature, and may celebrate the equinoxes and solstices as times of regeneration and renewal.

Paganism often includes worship or reverence of specific gods or spirits, and many pagans practice polytheism, believing in multiple deities. The exact nature of these gods may vary widely depending on the particular pagan tradition or group, and may include gods and spirits from many different cultures and mythologies.

Many pagans also practice witchcraft, which is a form of magic involving rituals and spells, and which may be used for both good and for ill. Pagans also often engage in meditation, prayer, and other spiritual practices, which they use to connect with the divine, to seek guidance, or to seek wisdom.

Paganism can also have a significant impact on the lives of individual practitioners, and many pagans find that their religious beliefs shape their sense of personal identity, their values, and their daily choices. Many pagans believe in the concept of karma, and may engage in acts of charity or service to others as a way of promoting spiritual growth and personal development. Others find that their spiritual practices help them deal with stress, anxiety, and other challenges in their daily life.

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Now that the explanation has come to conclusion, I will be discussing how I am drawn to Paganism and how it aligns to my own spiritual beliefs and values. But first, I want to essentially say this:

I believe we live in a world of indefinite possibilities, where everything is an enigma and we are all unique in our search for individuality. To me, mere labels do not contribute and define what or who we are as a whole person. They are just a way for us to make sense of the true meaning of life. At a young age, I look upon my journey as a perpetual student in life, and the people that I have met along the way, including my friends, who have a profound effect in shaping my views and thoughts. I would like to thank them for also being the reason why my mind had came this way 🤍

I’ll be moving forward now

From the age of 9, or maybe even younger(?), I have started questioning my own identity and grew even more intrigued and curious with discovering who I am as a person. With this yearning to know for more, I subsequently found new interests for myself and had opened my eyes to more knowledge. I wanted to learn more about the things I was passionate about, and so I did!

I am quite younger than you think, so I’m not surprised if I inadvertently implied and distributed subtle hints for you to discover my age.

At the age of 10, that was when I’ve actually delved in more deeply to understand myself. That was when I’ve exposed myself to more new-found interests, such as behaviours and cognitive functions, psychology, superstitions and omens, spirituality, pseudoscience, angelic numerology, extraterrestrials, yadda yadda, there are much more to name :o) And that was all because of one particular book that inherently changed my beliefs and views on life. I started being more open-minded and increasingly became more curious to find a value to life. I don’t dismiss my existential thoughts; I try to find more truth to it, now look what happened 😭 My viewpoint is completely different compared to what I’ve had when I was 9, I’m no pessimist though LMFAO. Definitely not

I’ve been a witch since I was 10 years old, but even as a small child, I felt that there was a calling for me and a craving to reach for the divine. At that age, I began my research and study on witchcraft and it had already came clear to me that this was the path I had to take. It took some time for me to voice my own opinions and belief system to a few of my familial relatives, and it didn’t take much for them to process. I influenced them very well. They were superstitious people, which I am referring to my mom, aunt, uncle, sibling (who also partakes in this practice) and cousins. So I can comfortably, yet gradually, open up to them with my thoughts (by thoughts I mean existential thoughts and what interests me, my academic focus and ambitions, and also saying that I’m bisexual and have more of a preference towards women. Not opening up as in bawling my eyes out. To sprinkle a little humour.)

At the earliest times to when I’ve reached the age of 10, I didn’t know what Paganism is after initially studying and researching witchcraft. It took me a little while to find out, but after finding out what it is, I realized that it greatly aligned very well to my own spiritual beliefs, values, and perspective. Before having truly considering myself a Pagan, I needed more confirmation and delved a more deeper study in it’s spirituality.

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I’m not sure whether that was enough information, but I’ll probably update it later on and do a retrospective. I hope you guys had a great day or night. Please look after your welfare, and be hydrated!

Feel free to ask questions.

#paganism #witchcraft #curiosity #understanding yourself #spirituality #spiritual growth #used to be a catholic #religion

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romana-after-dark · 4 months

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Room's on Fire: Black Wedding

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Everyone is together, everything is complete.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

WARNINGS HAVE BEEN UPDATED!!!

Extra warnings for chapter: FEET (sorry Fen!), complete worship, mind control, the incubus. Tummy bluge since apparently this is contensious now???

3.2k words

A/N: Some pov shifts.

Support writers! Reblog and leave comments!

"Priest are you there? Can you hear my voice? Do you hear my prayers? Are you out there? Forgive me priest For I have sinned (I know not what I do)" ~Black Wedding, In this Moment.

Sweating, tossing, turning.

The demon, the manifestation of your inadequacy tormented you so often you’d come to be complacent in it, the ravaging of your body nearly a nightly part of your bedtime routine. You just wanted to feel safe in your own bed again. You wanted your husbands to stay the night, to protect you from the terrors, but how could you confess what was happening?

When you wake up in a cold sweat, fear shivers down your spine as you dry heave and gasp for air, red daylight seeping in your curtains and bathing your clothed body in the image of blood, you are determined to change something. You can’t go on like this. You had Francisco now, you just needed to win back Pope. You were ovulating, now was your chance, all you needed was to have all their hearts.

Ben was a lot of fun. You and him did the most activities.

Before he became angry with you, Pope and you mostly spent time outside of sex in your studio. He liked to watch you paint, sipping wine with his eyes over the glass observing the strokes. It was quiet, peaceful, and calming.

Francisco, since your trip to the field was taking you more and more. He liked to take you out to the meadow, fucking on the blankets and putting flowers in each others hair. He let you put a flower crown on him, looking so pretty you had to reward him.

Will treated you like a princess. Will promised that first day that he’d help work out those pains in your back, and he was. He liked to massage you with his healing oils, making your body feel good and comfortable before he filled you up, stating that your comfort and health was important for conceiving.

But Ben, Ben was fun. Ben’s time was filled with laughter, adventure, and lots of sex. Today he took you out on a horse ride, much like Frankie, but there wasn’t a picnic. That wasn’t Ben’s style. What was Ben’s style was making the horse go ‘really fuck’n fast’.

You felt like a princess, your handsome prince whisking you away to some far off land. Benny made you giddy, he made you feel wanted. When Pope and Francisco both wanted nothing to do with you, it was Ben and Will who made you feel seen, feel beautiful, feel desired for.

You watched Ben climb a tree, begging him to be careful but he swore up and down he was going to find you the best peach there was. Ben loved food.

“Please just watch your step!!” You shout after him, but then turn your attention to the open field. From the top of the hill, you could see the fields of gold you used to labour at. Watching the others work, all but tiny dots on the horizon, sometimes you felt bad, like you weren’t contributing to Delta… Will had reminded you that you were called to a higher purpose, for something more. The DNA of gods was constantly inside you, and you wondered if it was changing you in more ways than just the hopeful pregnancy. Maybe you were more than a saint. Maybe their seed was creating a goddess, a new mother- nonononononono that was heresy! You shove the idea out of your head like an intrusive thought, determined to keep your thoughts clear.

THIS was why the incubus was tormenting you! Your thoughts were impure, vile, evil, and so were you. Tears began to burn behind your eyes.

“Here!” Ben drops upside down, hanging by his knees on the tree branch, making you gasp. He’s holding a peach, which you happily take.

“Thank you.” You smile. He always knew how to make you smile. Ben himself was shining as bright as the sun today, a reflection of his good mood. He said he’d make sure there’d be perfect weather for your outing, and he delivered, not a cloud in the deep blue sky. Will made you put on a straw sunhat to protect your skin from its reys. He treated you so well.

Ben makes a kissy face, and you oblige, rewarding him for finding you your snack. His mouth tasted sweet, only then do you realize he took a bite already and you can’t help but laugh adoringly. You take a bite of the peach as Ben still hung from the tree, swinging as he gripped the branch, and come to him again, sliding the bite into his mouth for him to eat. You can feel him smile, chewing the peach and you pepper his face with kisses.

It wasn’t long before he was pulling you up onto the tree, helping you climb up and up. Everything was so beautiful where you sat. Ben kisses you deeper here.

“Fish ain’t the only one that can be romantic as shit.” He mutters against your mouth and you get the feeling he was jealous. Francisco must have told him what you did the last couple days with him, making love in the meadow and yes, it was romantic, but you didn’t expect Ben to be Francisco. All of them loved you in their own ways, with their own expressions.

“He certainly isn’t, my handsome husband.” You kiss back, sighing as he touches your thigh. There was no way to fuck up here, but Ben still brought you to orgasm with his fingers. He had told you not to wear panties.

He picks another peach, pulling his hard cock out as you kick your legs, smiling, your dress rustling in a breeze. You’d noticed the breeze picked up as Ben got turned on. You watch in aw as he fingers the peach open, eyes intently on you. He’s obscene, groaning as if he’s pleasuring himself until he creates a hole, and then…

“Eyes on my cock, peach.”

And god, are your eyes on his cock. Benny has the prettiest dick in your humble opinion. It was long and thick like they all were. Ben was cut, his manhood always throbbing and the prettiest golden color and a vein on the underside. You loved looking at it. Ben fucked himself with the peach, up and down on the shaft with the most levacious squelches coming out only to the harmonized by Ben’s moans and whimpers. His eyes closed, lost in pleasure and he jerked off.

“F-fuck…” Ben mumble, chest heaving as he rests against the trunk. “Fuck man, feels so fucking good.” His hip bucked, makin the branch you were on shake and you had to grab one above for stability but fuck, you couldn’t stop watching him. He was incredible, sculped body creating a divine figure in your midst and you were so blessed to be filled by him. His blue eyes flashed open only to roll back into his head, spurting cum all over his hand and the peach. You nearly came again from the sight and sound alone. You loved how he looked in orgasmic bliss, it didn’t matter who caused it, you, Francisco or Pope, you just wanted to see him when it happened.

You ate the cum stained peach directly from his hand.

You got the idea from Iris, really. Sitting on the counter of the kitchen, you were busy with some cross stitching you wanted to give to Francisco. It was a simple scene, nothing complex as your dormitory focused of useful skills like fieldwork, cooking, animal care. Still, you knew how to sew and although you’d asked, sometimes even begged Iris to let you help with housework, she didn’t trust you with much outside of cooking, which you were good at. You wished she didn’t treat you like a child. Still, you happily worked on the nature scenary for you husband, god of nature. How lucky you were. You noticed how much he liked smoking marijuana.

Reyansh was inside for a refreshment while working outside. He was creating a flower bed for you at Francisco’s request, and his neck was hurting so Iris rubbed his neck. Reynash sighed contently, his soft face smiling at the touch of who very clearly, you see now, was his lover.

Iris was gentle for no one. She brushed off every attempt Jonah made to talk about anything none work related, and it hadn’t endeared her to you much. You didn’t think that bothered her, it didn’t seem she was too fond of you either. It wasn’t a rivalry and you didn’t have a problem with her. In fact, you liked her. She was beautiful, she made good food and she had been there when it was necessary, like having a panic attack. Even in the small things, she fed you well and had your safety in mind. Today, for example, she told you to put on sunscreen before you went outside to sunbathe while Rey built the flowerbed and doubled with babysitting you. That’s what you called it. Still, she didn’t talk to you, and didn’t seem like she wanted to be your friend.

You liked Reyansh a lot, he was kind, gentle, and thoughtful. Iris took care of Reyansh, and that made you happy. You liked seeing Reyansh smile, he had a nice smile. Iris never smiled unless it was at Reyansh and even then it seemed subdued. Jonah smirked at best, and that was usually mixed with an eye roll.

Pope had bad knees. He called it his stigmata, the physical manifestation of the sufering he bared for the people of Delta. He took the brunt of your sins and wasn’t that so good of him? You wondered if you could alleviate some of that pain, seeing as much of it was probably caused by the sins of your father.

“Rey?” You ask from your chair, watching him plant seeds for marigolds. You loved marigolds; they reminded you of Ben, all sunshine and gold.

He turns around over his should, a bright smile on his face. He seemed happier with plant or animals. “What’s up?”

“Do you know where Will keeps his healing oils?”

Reyansh laughs and its brighter than the midday sun. He turns around, sitting his ass on the dirt and props himself up on his hands. “What are you planning?”

“SHHHHHHH” Reyansh shushes you, but he’s giggling himself.

You and him were breaking into Will’s room while he was out. Well, not so much breaking as Rey got the master key but still, naughty. You loved Will’s room, you wanted to stay here all the time. It was simple, but not uncomfortable. You both had to be careful, not digging too much into his things as to not get in trouble… but then you found them.

You took lavender, rose, peppermint and oregano. You knew a little about healing oils, but Will’s were special having been blessed by his hands. This had to help Pope’s aches… now, you must get an audience with Pope, and he was not pleased with you.

“I’m busy.” Pope called from his office, ignoring your plea’s to spend time with you. You missed him so, so much. You missed his intensity, the warmth in the gaze, the fire and passion in his eyes. You feel his love for you, his husbands, his community. Who else was to bare the pain he did for his people? He was good, so good.

“Pope, please?” Your voice cracks, leaning against the wood of his door. “Please just ten minutes?”

“I’ll be with you tonight with Francisco.” To breed you, but you didn’t just want to be fucked by him, you wanted to be loved.

“I want to spend time with you, please? I have a surprise. I just… I miss you.”

Silence… then the door unlocking. He stood in front of you, brown eyes ablaze with irritation but also curiosity.

Once securing his attention, you were able to get Pope to follow you to the room you had set up. In it, a chair and a bucket of steaming, sudsy water.

“Sit! Sit!” You beckon him to the chair, and although hesitant he sits down. You take your place where you belong, at the feet of your God.

Knelt before him and gazing up into his eyes, you untie his shoes and slide off his socks, pleasantly surprised by the lack of smell. He’d been inside all day. After rolling up his pants, you take his feet, one by one and lower them into the steaming water and watch in delight ashe closes his eyes, moaning and hanging his head back. He looked relaxed, actually, something you only see in post orgasmic bliss.

You don’t take your eyes off him, massaging into the arch of his foot and enjoying the look of pleasure on his face. You’d doused the water preemptively with lavender and rose oils and you were happy to see it working in calming him.

“Mmmmm” Pope moans, a hardening bulge between his spread legs and you smile at the effect you have on him, the evidence of the love he still held for you. You hoped this act of washing his feet and massaging the joints would prove your subservience to him, your devotion.

Leaning in, you kiss the ball of his foot first as he opens his eyes, firey and alight with lust and love for you, his Madonna, his wife, his goddess. Pope’s mouth pops open, slightly agape as his chest begins to heave, eroticism clouding his face. Pope angls his foot, pressing his toes to your lips and you don’t hesitate to open, completely and fully in his control. You would debase yourself however he asked, just for him. He was your first kiss, your first love, your first everything. You’d adored him your whole life, worshiping him in prayer halls for as long as you could remember. He’d been the light of your life, your God, and although you were 11 when Divine Mother announced Pope was not the savior, it didn’t matter to you. He was your savior, he was your everything, and oh, how blessed you were to be here.

You make your jaw slack, allowing him access of as much of your mouth as possible, laving your tongue out against the calloused skin. Reaching to the side, you grab the peppermint-oregano mix of healing oils and poured some on his leg. As you gagged on him, sucking on his toes, you rubbed down his legs. Pope groans in pleasure, taking out his erection to stroke himself to the wet sounds of your mouth. Swirling your tongue around him, so desperate try to please him, to regain his favor so you can be impregnated by his seed, the seeds of his brothers. You wanted so desperately to be his Madonna again, his holy mother, his little flower, it didn’t matter what it took.

He could cut open your chest and carve your heart out if it meant he held the dying pulse in his hands.

“Get over here” He grunts, pulling his feet out of you mouth with a pop. You chase after him, worried you’d done something wrong, but Pope grabs your dress, yanking you forward harshly and into a crash of a kiss. The action knocks over the warm bucket of water, but he didn’t care. Pushing you down and into the spilt water, Pope turns you over and climbs on top of you, rucking your wet skirt over your ass. He didn’t bother taking off your underwear simply pulling it aside in order to thrust directly into you.

You were wet, you were always so, so wet with him. Being in his presence had always left you soaked and needy when he didn’t give you what you wanted. Sometimes you found yourself going to Will for his mouth to give you what Pope wouldn’t.

“My beautiful, sweet Madonna” He mutters, his bearded cheek scratching against yours. “Always so ready for me, such a good fucking girl.” His thrusts are harsh, your face sliding against the floor with the spilt water, your dripping hair splattered all about the tile. The smell was overwhelming and you realize Will’s oils were spilled, mixing into the water and stirred with the movement of your connected bodies.

Everything was so, so much from the smells of the oils to the stretch of his cock, the pounding, pounding, pounding in your womb.

It was the same pounding you felt that night when, for the first time in a long time, you were fucked and pleasured and devoured and worshipped by all four of your husbands.

You were raw, aching, sweating and throbbing; 3 men’s cum had flooded your womb and Will’s was soon to follow. It was good, so, so good. Your body, despite the exhaustion was floating on your soft bed. The group sex had happened in your room, which was a rarity but something that in this moment made you feel like home. This was special, this was different. Will’s grunts were loud, powerful, his strong and naked body forbaring before you where he knelt. Muscles flexing and shifting and moving, his sweaty form and dripping hair complimenting his presence, the size reflected in the bulge of your stomach in every inward thrust. He had to be this stunning if he were to distract you from the scene beside you.

Ben, Francisco and Santiago and spent and drained, were entangled next to you in a sweat and lust-fill affair of their own. Francisco was the center focus, his body worshiped and adored by Pope and Ben. It seemed like a tug of war, like Francisco was the rope in a tug of war. It was clear that Francisco was precious to both of them, but there was another air about it all. The fight for Francisco’s sweet kisses was just the battle ground. Francisco himself had gotten hard all over again, Ben’s hands jerking him of from where he lay, their two body’s and coloring a contrast of dark and light, hard and soft, and electric energy so, so close to Pope’s explosives.

Pope would not be out done by the younger man. This was his community, he was the leader, he was son of the Divine Mother and he would not relinquish his most favored lover to a boy 8 years his junior. Ben had ambition, he had wants and visions of a future that Santiago would not acquiesce to and although Benjamin’s loyalty was strong, so was his jealousy.

Two could play at jealousy, and Francisco was his. Playing with Frankie’s balls, heavy but starting to tighten as his perfect body writhed to the sounds of the Madonna’s pleasure, Santiago gripped Ben’s locks and yanked him down. He took control of Frankie’s mouth, lips still swollen from their previous encounter evidence of who his lips belonged too. He sucked on him until the healing lip cracked open again. If Francisco bled, his blood was Pope’s.

He hears you cry out in the way you only do when you’re coming, and Ben latches onto Francisco’s nipple, determined to make him cum again. Pope loved his brothers, loved them all, they were the center of his world, his everything, his rocks. He’d had all of them in every way imaginable, fucked into every hole at every angle but god, nothing compared to Frankie. Ben must’ve felt that too, the way he took care of him. Together, as a team, they gave Francisco his second orgasm.

Something was different today. Something changed.

They all slept in her bed that night.

WHAT DO WE THINK For The Wrong Way readers, did you catch the reference? it was small.

also last chapter i asked whose the worst and someone said jonah i just wanna talk LMFAOOOO but i laughed bc its OVERWHELMINGLY santi. like 80%

Poll of the day

who knocks up madonna? not who you WANT that'll be a new poll, but who you think does it. listing all potential options.

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS and whyyyyy

If you are into c.ai, check out the Jonah ai on the masterlist

Also, hope you check out the playlist! if you like old music like me especially. lots of 60's-80's

apoligies to everyone whose been tagging me in tag games. i appiciate the tags a lot, im just like....... ahhhhhhh you know? life. i love yall for including me though! If you have discourd and wantto join a server for my works, dm me! as long as you are an active particpant in the fics you're welcome!

IF YOU LIKE CULT FICS READ THIS ONE BY @noxturnalpascal with cult leader joel!!!!! I havnt had the chance to read a full chapter by i read most of the first chapter and its soooo good.

Please consider joining me in in donating to humanitarian aid in Rafah through Doctors Without Borders

LOVE YOU ALL!

How to keep up with the story!

Follow @romana-updates and/turn on notifications

Follow the tag Rooms on fire

@winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado @mjnomaryjane @incorrectclassicbookquotes @axshadows @ghostslillady @movievillainess721 @justagalwhowrites @charethcutestory02 @pixielouise-blog @gogh-with-the-flow @justafandomgvrl @katw474 @loveable-liar @arrozconpepitoria @minigirl87 @runa-falls @pedge-page @angel-of-the-moons @beefrobeefcal @pixielouise-blog @miraclesabound @oliveksmoked @mjnomaryjane @bubble-pop-eclectic @corazondebeskar-reads @pedroshotwifey @umnitsa @koshkaj-blog @hiroikegawa@mangoslushcrush @withasideofmeg @sub-aro @wand-erer5

If I forgot someone or you'd like to be added/removed LMK!

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