#ardently faithful

[hualianisms]

camilikha on twitter posted with mtl the part of the TGCF Audio Drama production team's talk where they discussed hua cheng's character concept, and i love what the AD team said so i attempted a rough translation of the CN text:

"The core of Hua Cheng's character: Ultimate beauty, ultimate danger, ultimate devoutness The simultaneous contradiction and balance in his feelings: On one hand, he has a yearning desire that is blasphemous; on the other hand, he sees Xie Lian as sacred and inviolable, so he simultaneously possesses a devotee's sense of worship and sacrifice [1], and restraint [2]. His love is akin to a fire in the abyss; on the surface he approaches everything with effortless skill and ease, but in his heart he is always simultaneously suppressing and yet burning with fervour and zeal."

*translation notes:

[1] "献祭 worship and sacrifice" here refers to the religious act of a worshipper making sacrificial offerings to their god. the sacrifices offered to the god can be other people/things, or oneself.

[2] for the part about "restraint 禁欲", the CN phrase used refers to religious asceticism or abstinence (the AD team used many phrases with specifically religious connotations in this description of HC). however, "asceticism" felt to me like the wrong eng word for HC as he is not ascetic at all, nor is his devotion or love chaste. I struggled to find an eng word that fit here, but this is what the AD team was likely referring to (his abstinence during the centuries before he met XL):

(I think the AD team may also have been referring to how HC initially attempted to hold himself back early in Book 1/Arc 1 for fear of overwhelming XL at first (during the period before they started kissing and HC realized XL fully reciprocated his attraction and desire).

and just my thoughts but i love how the AD understood HC as character so well! i love how they highlighted how he is simultaneously the concept of the most faithful devotee, and the most ardent lover. whether it's his religious devotion or his romantic/sexual love for XL, it's intense & passionate to the highest degree

i also love how they described the juxtaposition btwn HC's effortlessly calm & competent exterior, vs the intense passion he holds within. i really love how well the AD understands his character and allows HC to be as layered, multi-faceted and gorgeously romantic as he's meant to be

[landoffreaksandfrogs]

*thinks about ult dirk* *crushes phone between my teeth*

[ghost-proofbaby]

i’ve said it once, i’ve said it twice, i’ll say it a million times — writing willow and eddie will always feel like coming home to me. i know eddie x oc isn’t popular but- god, these idiots are so near and dear to my heart.

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"I guess I have! Honestly, I couldn't tell you why," Randall shrugged with a good-natured laugh, blissfully unaware of any surprise on Emily's part as he finished the last of his stew, saying, "I don't even know what kind of bat it is, but I'd like to know. Maybe it thinks I look like a tasty morsel or something!"

He chuckled again (perhaps he should reconsider leaving his window open on a hot summer night, lest his batty friend take that as an invitation to take a sip!) as he got up to take his bowl and plate to the sink, as well as put the remaining stew into a container to fridge for his parents to enjoy later, adding, "I don't mind it, though-I usually walk home alone, so it's nice to have some company for a change."

Normally, Randall didn't mind walking home on his own; he was used to it, but he couldn't lie and say that it wasn't lonely, walking home alone. He passed so many others-couples, friends, families-and it made him wish he had someone by his side, someone to talk to, to destress with after a long day at work. Of course, he had his folks to look forward to seeing afterwards, but someone to walk with would be nice, and so he welcomed the little bat's company.

[gojuo]

love triangles ...

[offensetogeneralorder]

2024

I SEE YOU ALL THE TIME , YOU SEE ME ALL THE TIME .

REVERSE THE SCORE .

LEAN DEEPER INTO THE TECHNOLOGY OF THE NARRATIVE .

I OPEN MYSELF TO THE POSSIBILITY OF TRAGEDY .

WHO ARE YOU . WHO DO YOU WANT TO BE .

[gale-dekarios]

can you imagine how wild the whole of gale and tav's romance is from gale's perspective?

you keep secrets. shameful, terrible secrets. youre dying. every step is just a little bit harder than the last. youre a disgrace. if people didnt look at you with disdain, they were looking at you with pity. and youve got nobody to blame but yourself.

every moment, youre expecting the other shoe to drop, for tav to finally say enough -- you wouldn't hold it against them, youre more trouble than youre worth -- but then...?

it doesnt matter what it is. magical item consumption with no reason given. an awkward exit from an imagined kiss shared in the cradle of your ex's palm. revealing you could kill yourself, them, and everybody in a city-wide radius. defending you against one of your most powerful colleagues because he came baring mystra's will. dissauding you at every turn, to stay alive, to ignore a goddess's orders, because they think youre worth the space you take up. loving you ardently, hastily, easily, as though you have anything to offer them back. staying with you as you oscillate between self-destruction and ascension. never once stepping away from your side, even as the stabilised orb burns in your chest, begging to be used, and the crown, almost within reach, taunts you with your wildest dreams.

and that's just it, isnt it? you have the chance to give tav everything they could ever want at last, after so long of being a burden, and they tell you no. they tell you no. i want you.

you, the burden? you, the disgrace?

yes, you.

gale falling in love with tav wasn't like how the great novels describe. there wasnt any one moment that led to a grand realisation. there were no great leaps of faith toward each other.

falling in love with tav was like a warm candlelight and an even warmer hand in an endless void of black.

falling in love with tav was a gentle tug, a smile, and a 'this way.'

how could he not follow?

[bywons]

愛 𓈒 A LITTLE LESS SCANDALOUS ENHYPEN—

╰—— “ 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇' 𝗎𝗌, 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝗅𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 ” — 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗄𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆

🪽 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗀. 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌 2074 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 ! 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾(?), 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ✦ ◞ 𝐶ATALOGUE?!

๑´ ³`) ﾉ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!

LEE HEESEUNG — shows you off all around the college campus, an arm wrapping your shoulders and bored eyes to scare off guys who thought they had a chance with you. his presence alone is enough to send a clear message: you're off-limits. it's not just his imposing demeanour that keeps others at bay; it's the way he looks at you, with a mix of pride and adoration that makes it clear you're the centre of his world. everyone knows not to mess with heeseung's girl, if they don't want a black eye.

and even when he's not around you like a guard dog, you're wearing his leather jacket everywhere, like a souvenir. between classes, he sneaks moments to steal kisses, his touch gentle yet possessive. you find comfort in the routine, in the way he makes you feel safe and cherished.

"you don't have to do that, you know," you say, looking up at him with a reassuring smile.

“do what?”, heeseung's voice morphs into a mellow, loving tone, as he looks down at you.

“scare them like that”, you sigh. heeseung chuckles, pulling you closer, "i can't help it. i just want to make sure everyone knows you're mine.”

“i think they got the message”, you giggle, kissing your lovely boyfriend.

PARK JONGSEONG — has his utmost faith in the fact that there is no line in this world he wouldn't cross for you. from sneaking into your room late at night to celebrate your anniversary, to beating up your psycho ex, jongseong's actions speak louder than his words. to him, protecting you isn't just a duty, it's a sacred vow. that's why he drags your ex to his underground boxing match, to claim his victory— both over this fight and you. most ardently, you.

and it's all worth the cuts and bruises and hushed conversations around the town when they are being treated by you.

"you're crazy, you know that?" you murmur, but there's no hiding the affection in your voice. you dab the cotton swab over his wounds, faces too close to each other.

jay raises his head from your lap, hovering over you within seconds. there's this glint in his eyes that speaks volumes for him, and he does the rest with his lips.

“only for you”, jay replies, catching your lips in a breathtaking kiss, hands wandering under your shirt in a split second, “forever for you, crazy or not”, he nibbles on your lower lip, before kissing you again.

his hands slip under your shirt, that's actually his, and wonder about your waist, tracing random shapes.

your heart flutters at his words, and you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles. "just promise me you'll be careful," you say, your eyes reflecting the depth of your feelings for him.

“sorry angel”, jay sighs, ruffling your hair playfully, “i need to make sure there are no bad guys.”

SIM JAEYUN — ‘s second most favourite thing in this entire universe is his bike. the first being the girl who sits behind him on his bike, you. reality blurs with his fantasies when you wrap your hands around his torso, pulling yourself closer to lean on his shoulders. the ambient air hits your face and makes your hair dance along with it, as jake’s bike speeds up. he feels euphoric at this moment, it's just you and him.

it's the way his biker jacket dangles off from his shoulder, the silver chain decorating his neck— which is obviously gifted by you. and everytime you're nervous while looking down at you, he bites his lips, which is not helpful at all.

“oh my god, jake slow down!”, you hold on even tighter to him as he roars his bike, and that's just what he wants. he chuckles softly, the sound barely audible over the roar of the engine. "hold on tight, love," he shouts back, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief. the cityscape blurs into streaks of light and colour as you weave through the streets together, the night air cool against your skin.

he takes a sudden turn, and the bustling city gives way to quieter streets lined with trees. you dismount, legs slightly wobbly, but jake is there to steady you.

"how was that?" he asks, a grin spreading across his face.

you laugh, the sound full of joy and relief. "absolutely crazy," you reply, gazing up at him. “you scared me good."

"scare you? never," he teases, pulling you into a hug. "i just wanted to feel you hold onto me tighter."

you shake your head, playfully swatting his arm. "you're impossible, you know that?"

"it's alright if it's you," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead

PARK SUNGHOON — climbs up your balcony at 3 am, the perfect time when he knows your parents are either having a soundless sleep or out of town. he feels like a knight in shining armour, climbing up to save his dear princess from all the melancholy and shush her to ease, hands softly gliding through her raven hair. he lands with a soft thud, his eyes scanning the darkened room through the sheer curtains.

as he approaches your window, his heart beats faster, not from the exertion but from the anticipation of seeing you again. he knows this is dangerous, knows that if your parents found out it could mean the end for him. but none of that matters now

he taps lightly on the glass, and watches your silhouette get up and open the window for him with a worried face. “sunghoon what the—”, you manage to shush yourself before pulling him in and shutting the window close, “you just came here yesterday!”, you whisper.

“can't even see my pretty girl in peace now?”, sunghoon sighs, pulls you closer and lets your lips meet. they travel all over your face, to your neck, trailing up to nibble on your earlobes and back to your lips again. he takes a moment to breathe and adore your pretty face. "i couldn't stay away," he murmurs, his eyes locks onto yours. "i needed to see you.”

“i get it hoon, but at least tell me before you drop by”, there is adoration hidden by worry in your voice as you press a soft kiss on his mole near his nose. “i wanted it to be a surprise, princess”, he chuckles.

“what if my parents—”

before you could say another word, sunghoon tackles you down on the bed. “i don't care if your parents find out”, he shushes you, his index finger ghosting over your lips, tracing it down to the middle of your collar bones, “it's about us, and you're mine.”

KIM SUNOO — hates to see you hanging around with boys who just aren't good for you. he knows their type—smooth talkers with no substance, guys who don't see you for the incredible person you are. in his mind, he's the one for you. maybe because he's crazy in love with you but also because he knows how to treat you better. sunoo knows your favourite colour, how you like your coffee, your favourite spots around town and what not.

it's always him, even in this cold of night when your date stood you up, and you circled back to kim sunoo. teeth chattering and a soft yet piercing breeze, another minutes’ wait before you hear the long awaited familiar voice.

“sorry uh— i'm late”, sunoo clears his throat, hesitant to look at your eyes, “let's go home.”

you're about to run to him and be ready to go home when you notice the bruises on his knuckles, “what the fuck have you been doing?”, you furrow your eyebrows together. sunoo tries to hide his hands behind his back, but it's too late. you grab his wrist, pulling it closer to inspect the damage. the bruises are fresh, the skin raw and tender. “what is this, sunoo?”

“since you don't know how to deal with trash dudes”, he rolls his eyes, snatching his wrists back, “and i called jay so we were good. now let's go home.”

“you can’t keep doing this, sunoo,” you say softly, your voice barely audible over the wind. “you’re going to get hurt.”

“if you care about me so much then maybe you should just be with me”, sunoo spits those words, coming out of him in an instant, “i'm i-”

“i love you,” you reply back, a hint of nervousness and hurry, almost as instant as him, “sorry, i was not brave enough.” sunoo immediately takes your face in between his hands, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips, “don't ever say sorry to me ever again. it's okay…i love you too.”

YANG JUNGWON — ‘s secret behind his back to back victories is you. overly eager to impress the pretty girl in denim skirts and hoop earrings. your presence at the illegal racing scene fuels his desire to impress you, to see your smile widen with every race he wins.

as he revs up his engine, the adrenaline coursing through his veins isn't just for the thrill of the race, it's to capture your attention, to make your heartbeat a little faster. each victory isn't just about the prize money or the bragging rights, it's about earning your admiration, maybe even your affection.

jungwon dismounts his bike, helmet in hand, and strides towards you, a triumphant grin on his face. "told you i’d win," he says, voice low and confident. he pulls you closer by your waist, his hand snaking tighter around it.

“you never fail to amaze me," you say, looking up at him with a mixture of awe and affection.

he chuckles, a hint of pride in his voice. "just doing what i do best.”

he shrugs, but you can see the sparkle of excitement in his eyes. "it's easy when i have the best motivation in the world.” jungwon's eyes light up at the sight of your smile, how happily you look at him and giggle over his win.

“we're missing something out”, jungwon clears his throat, pulling you just a bit closer, doing all his best not to kiss you.

“really? what's that?”, you smirk.

“you promised to let me take you out on a date if i win”, a smirk plays at the corners of his lips, a smug confidence coloured over his face, “‘ya still remember that?”

“and what if i say i forgot?”, hard to get, he likes that.

jugwon's smirk widens, "then i guess i'll have to remind you," he murmurs, his voice a tantalising blend of challenge and flirtation.

NISHIMURA RIKI — has endless foolproof excuses up his sleeves, whether it's bunking his class or ways to meet up with you despite your strict household. just last week he had to take you out on café and amusement park dates to convince you to tutor him, that too, in your house! something about the fact that your parents can catch you both thrills riki.

he leans casually against the school gate, his usual smirk playing on his lips as he watches you approach. "hey," he greets, sliding his hands into his pockets. "ready for our 'study session'?"

you roll your eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest at the sight of him. “you know, if you actually paid attention in class, you wouldn't need tutoring." he laughs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "where's the fun in that? besides, i prefer learning from you.”

you had a hard time convincing your dad to even let riki in your house, he's always greeted with an awkward stareq, which he returns back to your mom. "you really shouldn't be here," you whisper, glancing nervously around.

he chuckles softly, his voice low and comforting. "relax. i promise i won't get you in trouble."

"alright, algebra it is. but you know," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper, "i think i'd learn better if you rewarded me for every right answer." you look at him, your resolve weakening. "what kind of reward are we talking about?"

he grins, his gaze intense. "how about a kiss for every correct answer?"

“only if you wanna die—”

but it's only a fraction of a second before he pulls you into a sweet kiss, pushing you away as he hears the door of your room creaking open. he's once again greeted by your father's angry face.

“oh, good evening sir!”

a/n — i don't think the sypnosis is it TT i think this could've been more bad boy coded on my part, but honestly my brain was fried TT lmk if u liked it tho!

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

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[hellsitegenetics]

this valentine’s day i would like to profess my undying, ardent love for the callistephus chinensis (china aster)! the flower that contributed to me giving myself my name!!

not only are they a part of the (superior in my opinion) family of asteraceae, but also the genus’ (callistephus) etymology is derived from the greek words “kalli-” meaning “beautiful” and “stephos” meaning crown. they have beautiful chrysanthemum-esque blooms and come in all sorts of colours (my favourites being purple and white).

straying away from taxonomy a bit, asters in general are one of the birth flowers for september (my birth month!). they symbolise hope, faith and wisdom. and according to greek mythology, astraea (“star maiden”: goddess of purity, justice and innocence) cried because there weren't enough stars in the sky and when her tears hit the earth, they caused asters to bloom! continuing to follow the greek myth, she was the last goddess to live amongst the humans after the golden age, symbolising the decline of hope for humanity along with the decline of the ages. she left and became the constellation virgo i believe!

some more fun fun facts, asters have a most frequently observed number of n = 9 haploid chromosomes (2n = 18 for diploid). the numerology of the word “aster” also happens to be nine and guess what! september is the 9th month of the year! is it obvious i really like the number 9? almost as much as i love asters <3

String identified:

t at’ a t g, at t cat c (ca at)! t tat ctt t gg a!!

t a t a at t ( ) a ataca, t a t g’ (cat) tg t g “a-” ag “at” a “t” ag c. t a at cat- a c a t c ( at g a t).

tag aa ta a t, at ga a t t t ( t t!). t , at a . a accg t g tg, ataa (“ta a”: g t, tc a cc) c ca t 't g ta t a ta t t at, t ca at t ! ctg t t g t, a t at g t agt t a at t g ag, g t c at ag t t c t ag. t a ca t ctat g !act, at a a t t = 9 a c (2 = 18 ). t g t “at” a a t a g at! t t 9t t t a! t a t 9? at a c a at <3

Closest match: Caligus rogercresseyi isolate FCH chromosome 9 Common name: Sea louse

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Synonyms for love?

Love—strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties; a beloved person; to hold dear; to like or desire actively

Admire - to feel respect and approval for

Adoration - the act of adoring

Adore - to regard with loving admiration and devotion

Adulation - extreme or excessive admiration or flattery

Affection - a feeling of liking and caring for someone or something; tender attachment

Allegiance - devotion or loyalty to a person, group, or cause

Amative - relating to or indicative of love

Amorous - indicative of, or relating to love

Appreciation - a feeling or expression of admiration, approval, or gratitude

Ardor - loyalty

Attachment - affectionate regard

Beloved - dearly loved; dear to the heart

Cherish - to feel or show affection for

Craving - an intense, urgent, or abnormal desire or longing

Crush - an intense and usually passing infatuation

Cup of tea - a person suited to one's taste

Darling - a dearly loved person

Dear - a loved one; highly valued

Desire - longing, craving; exhibit or feel desire for

Devotion - the fact or state of being ardently dedicated and loyal

Eagerness - marked by enthusiastic or impatient desire or interest

Enchant - to attract and move deeply; rouse to ecstatic admiration

Enthusiasm - strong excitement of feeling; ardor

Esteem - high regard; to set a high value on

Fancy - amorous fondness; like

Favorite - one that is treated or regarded with special favor or liking

Fealty - intense fidelity

Fervor - intensity of feeling or expression

Fidelity - the quality or state of being faithful

Fondness - tender affection

Inamorata - a woman with whom one is in love or has intimate relations

Infatuation - a feeling of foolish or obsessively strong love for, admiration for, or interest in someone or something

Jewel - one that is highly esteemed

Like - to feel attraction toward or take pleasure in; preference

Longing - a strong desire especially for something unattainable; craving

Paramour - lover; specifically: an illicit or secret lover

Partiality - a special taste or liking

Passion - ardent affection

Predilection - an established preference for something

Preference - a person or thing that is preferred over others

Respect - high or special regard

Revere - to show devoted deferential honor to

Swain - a male admirer or suitor

Sweetheart - someone who is loved

Treasure - to hold or keep as precious

Truelove - one truly beloved or loving

Value - to consider or rate highly

Venerate - to regard with reverential respect or with admiring deference

Yearning - a tender or urgent longing

Zeal - eagerness and ardent interest in pursuit of something

Hope this helps! Would love to read your work if it does.

More: Word Lists More: On Love

[konstantintreplev]

just knowing that some of the most prime christian conservative brain rot is headquartered in colorado springs (focus on the family *shudder*) i can't imagine what my fellows in the community's lives are like there to begin with, and now this? jfc. i stg.

[rebelscums]

Ardent (Qimir x Ex Jedi reader)

Prologue of Ardent

Ratings: Angst | Fluff | Strangers to Lovers | Friends to Lovers | Abuse | Violence | Questioning the Jedi order | Slowburn

Summary: You have been by his side since the beginning… This is your story.

If you could use one word to describe Qimir… It would be ardent. He was ardent in everything that he did. Passionate to the fault of the universe caving in on his achievements. He was ardent in the force… Ardent in his training… And ardently in love with you.

He put the word love to shame, going beyond the definition and excelling just as he excelled in everything else he did… Well of course walking. You couldn’t understand how someone so poised could trip over air without a moments notice, but you loved him anyways.

You always will.

You would die for the man that you stood side by side with since the very beginning. Since the day he decided to leave the Jedi order.

You ardently followed him then to.

“And where would you go?” You asked Qimir.

The two of you sat under your favorite plum tree. The fruit was out of season and so no flowers bloomed, but that didn’t deter you. It was still your favorite spot and with time it became Qimir’s favorite spot as well.

You were both young and naive then. You believe that the Jedi taking you from your home had been a good thing… A noble thing. You wouldn’t have been able to meet Qimir if the Jedi order hadn’t taken you and so you forgave them. You believed that you were here to serve a greater purpose. Qimir believed that as well, but time had a way of shedding light on things that wished to be kept in the shadows.

The order began to leave you stumbling with questions and doubts that you couldn’t control. Even your master couldn’t sway the growing thoughts and you grew from a youngling to a padawan… Everything had been going well. Your training improved and you spent your free time following Qimir around.

It was then that you slowly began to find the bruises that Qimir so desperately tried to hide. He always began questioning the way of the force and the path of the Jedi, but unlike your master who valued knowledge, Qimir’s master valued violence.

You remember that day clearly. You remember the blood dripping down his brow and the burnt slack across his back. You remember the way he bit his lip to stop from crying out.

You remember using the force to throw his master against that faithful plum tree.

“I’m leaving.” Qimir slowly stood to his feet.

No one told either of you how cruel the Jedi were.

“I’m coming with you.” It wasn’t even a thought to you.

“You can’t. You have your master. You have your path.” He tried to convince you to stay. Even as two teenagers, you both wanted what was best for one another.

You looked at him wondering what you could do to convince him that you would not stay here without him. It was then that you decided and in one swift moment, you took your padawan braid and cut it off with your lightsaber. You handed your old life to him, the braid in his bloody hand.

“You are my path.” Your tone left no room for question.

He took your hand in his bloodied one and neither of you looked back as the two of you ran from the life you could have taken.

Qimir knew then that he would never let you go and anyone who would take you away from him would face a death even far more menacing than the dark side of the force.

Now let’s start at the beginning…

[ozzgin]

I saw these photos on TikTok (Credited from Doyuin with the ID:981642684) and my oh my, it sent me straight to this scenario. Content: female reader, female yandere, religious themes, horror

Yan! Mother Superior who welcomes all lost souls with open arms. Her kindness and benevolence are known by locals and foreigners alike, her reputation even reaching your ears. Overwhelmed by a longing you've never felt before, you packed your suitcase and left your home.

Once you reached the monastery, the nuns rushed you in without a word. You were taken aback by their swift compliance, despite the fact you never introduced yourself, nor your intentions. "I am no mere guest", you wanted to tell them, "I've come to take my vows, and become one of you." But no one listened.

"Mother had been expecting you", one of them finally confessed piously.

That's when you saw her for the first time. A smile radiating warmth, and a pair of bright, all-seeing eyes. You felt like a child soothed by a Mother's embrace, all worries and anxieties seeping away from your body. You were safe.

Days at the monastery are slow and peaceful. You've become indifferent to the world outside, focusing on prayer, and the wisdom taught by Mother Superior. Despite your newfound faith, however, something tugs at your heart insidiously.

Something isn't right with Mother.

What a blasphemous thought, to doubt her saintliness! Yet you cannot seem to put your suspicions at rest. The other nuns are fearful, the priest becomes pale whenever Mother is present. People seeking refuge between the walls of this sanctuary vanish without a trace. You do your best to hide it, but she knows. Her ardent stare strips you of any secrecy.

One night, when you'd been plagued by nightmares in your small chamber, you dropped your rosary. The beads scattered across the polished floor, and you lowered yourself to gather the pieces. That's when you found it: underneath your bed, deep scratches were clawed over the wooden tiles. Do not look into the eyes.

The recollection creeps into your mind now, as you glance at the priest finishing up the Sunday liturgy. Mother Superior observes the ritual with boredom. The church sinks into silence, and she stands up. The other nuns throw their hands in prayer. With calculated nonchalance, she grasps onto the crozier and plunges it directly into the man's chest.

You throw yourself out of your seat, bewildered, speechless. The chanting continues, blocking out the bubbling heave of the dying man. Mother Superior smiles, satisfied. Thick, warm blood slithers all the way to your feet. You want to crawl, to run, to hide, but your body is stiff.

"For the mountains may depart       and the hills be removed,

but my steadfast love shall not depart from you,       and my covenant of peace shall not be removed"

You mustn't fear her. For no one will love you with the same devotion, no one will offer you such unadulterated veneration. The nuns abruptly stop their prayer, and scurry outside.

Yan! Mother Superior who ceremoniously lowers the sharp, bloodied end of the crozier over your head. You hold your breath, petrified.

"No man stands above me", she concludes. Her voice is carried by the pillars, echoing across the empty church, shattering against your eardrums in a most unholy coalescence. A shiver cold as death envelops your being, and you're struck by a revelation:

It was not God's hand that led you to her.

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 26﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Yandere Itachi Uchiha x F!Reader -> Breeding

Warnings: Dub!con, yandere themes, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of baby trapping, Stockholm syndrome, manipulative Itachi, pregnancy of breeding!kink. Itachi is still soft because yeah >\\< and fluffy if you squint

It's the ridiculously delectable way, her doe-eyed self cowers down beneath him whenever she loomed in his presence. He adores her, watching her fidget every time Itachi says something, every time he glances at her unmomentarily. She is akin to a deer, and Itachi- a lion, a ruthless, sadistic lion wanting nothing more but to tame his prey, but no- he doesn't just want to prey on her, he wants to love her. He wants her to love him, to subdue everything she can for him.

It's the way he always excuses his behavior with the sentence that chains her neck, boiling down her very core. "It's all to protect you, to keep you safe." When he addresses her as an 'Angel' she loses a little faith in god, because no angel's wings should be pinned down as hers, the way Itachi does it.

No, he does not hurt her, but he does make sure she doesn't hurt herself, sometimes confinement and solitude is the most amicable way to stem down the essence of a punishment and a lesson. Treason, if you will.

He still feels insanity grip the very nerves of his self when she approaches him, slouching as if she'd break if she stood tall. He would break her for standing tall & sniveling at him to let her go. "Hmm, maybe bestowing you with some responsibility will help, you've become quite air-headed, dear Y/N."

Oh, it desolates his perfect, controlled mind when he imagines her tiny self inflated with his seed, having trouble pacing around, needing Itachi with every little beck and call, the vulnerability which will come with her last semester, how she will struggle to hold her urine when the little Uchiha would kick and eagerly wait to see Mother and Father... how adoring.

It starts slow, after months of living together with Itachi, she knows how to read him, how Itachi's eyes glint towards the impending, she wouldn't be unjust, Itachi treats her kindly when he demands something, especially when it needs his fragile, male ego stroked and petted.

So she complies, as he spreads her apart naked, pupils visibly dilated as his gaze turns tender, more subtle. As if she'd break under him, a vile part of him wants to break her instantly. Itachi is a paradox, after all. "It's okay, my angelic little thing." You're doing so well for me. His luscious, long hair tickles her tender breasts as Itachi leans in, kissing her neck, scraping at the sensitive, irritated skin & deviously marking her up. "Oh no, don't cry, I'm going to be gentler." He dotes on her being a sensitive crybaby, can't handle his length, can't handle him.

Oh but the little being Itachi owns, is ferocious on her own, knowing most ardently she has him in her grip, "Wa-ant to go out after this." She manages to barely choke out when Itachi's member ravishes her cunt, thrusting, rutting his hips inside, churning them up to his shape. Itachi couldn't say no to that face, the future mother of his kids. "Anything... Angel."

"Will you let me fill you up?" Itachi asks though she doesn't have any choice but to, Itachi is a master, a sorcerer of illusions and to earn her goodness, to pretend she owns the decision of freedom, ever so fleeting choices that are nothing but a mirage; Itachi loves that.

She nods, biting her lip like an anxious child, the background thoughts all super setting the imagery of her being pregnant, she's too far gone now though. Stockholm Syndrome hugs her every night along with the slender arms of her lover. She wants to please him, simultaneously hating herself for the same as she nods, feeling the thrusts slow down, sloppy and then the warmth of his seed deep inside her gummy walls.

"Nothing, Angel, without you... I'm nothing."

[copperbadge]

I guess you probably get asked why you’re converting a lot but I still want to ask,

I dunno, I don't think I really get asked all that much, to be honest. Usually when I do it's like -- I mention I'm converting to a Jewish person and they'll be like "Getting married?" and I'll explain I'm not, which does necessitate an additional explanation.

It's difficult to vocalize, which is interesting because it has really very little to do with faith, and that's usually the most difficult part of discussing any conversion, I think. Often I'll just say, "I heard a call". Which is actually a rather Christian way of putting it, but I think it's probably the easiest way to explain, especially in a heavily Christian culture.

I had...I don't want to call it religious trauma exactly because compared to most people I know who exited Christianity, it wasn't traumatic -- I was just raised in Christianity and had trouble buying the faith in the various ways it was presented to me, and there's a certain type of ardent Christian who comes at you hard if you're in their church asking awkward questions. A few encounters with some egregious megachurches in my youth left a bad taste in my mouth, so in my twenties I really wanted nothing to do with religion and didn't have the time or energy anyway -- I wasn't actively anti-religion, just disinterested.

But in my thirties I had to ask myself, do I wish to be part of a faith community? And once I'd decided that despite being pretty heavily agnostic I did want that in my life, I had to decide what I wanted it to look like. There are churches within many branches of Christianity that are fine, and there are whole branches that are fine too, but I kept tripping over my disinterest in Jesus. I did almost become a Quaker but although I really like a lot of the Friends' attitudes towards social justice and I enjoyed silent Meeting, it eventually didn't feel quite right for me (the Quakers in my life refer to me as "Friend-ly"). I looked into Zen Buddhism but didn't click with it in quite the way I'd hoped.

Judaism didn't feel perfect, but unlike other faiths, after several years of study I have yet to reach a point where it feels "not for me" in the way the others did after a few months; even when I struggle with some aspects, instead of saying "I don't think this is it" I dig deeper, and Judaism is a place where you can just...keep digging. I like the sense of history, I like the idea that you can argue not only with other Jews but with the divine itself and maybe even win; I don't like arguing but I like that the option is there, which it never was in my Christian confirmation classes. I like the way Judaism frames community and family, I like the emphasis on scholarship and exploration. I've had to unlearn a lot of weird Christian and atheist attitudes about the Torah, but that's been educational too. Ancient cultures have always interested me and Judaism is sometimes the practice of actively conversing with ancient history that has been incredibly preserved but not calcified. I like that I can be an agnostic Jew if I so choose, once I finish conversion.

(Sometimes I joke, "Eh, I'm not really a huge fan of pork, either, so it's an excuse not to eat pork chops," but that's a joke for very specific company. I don't keep kosher or plan to, but I like that there is an option to show one's devotion through acts of nourishment, and that food is always such a huge part of Jewish ritual. And I like Jewish food.)

There is something in me that reacts to Jewish storytelling -- the fear and fasting of Esther, discourse on the sacrifice of Isaac, grumpy Rabban Gamliel from the Talmud, even the history of the Piazza Alla Cinque Schole when I stumbled into it in Rome. I didn't care particularly about the story of Moses when I learned it as a child, but I sniffle at the parting of the Red Sea in Prince of Egypt every damn time. Not even because of the miracle! I'm simply moved by the vision of a people going to freedom, scared but going, protecting each other and singing as they go.

Anyway. I'm in a conversation with Judaism that isn't over yet, and either eventually I'll reach a point where it ends, or I'll convert and be in this conversation the rest of my life. Kind of fun not to know yet which it will be.

[cosmichorrorlesbians]

new Silt Verses ep was so incredibly good and there's so much to talk about but I keep coming back to Sibling Rane.

I think Jon and Muna do a great job of making even minor characters feel distinctive and resonant with the main cast, and the disciples of the various faiths are one of the places this shows most strongly. The disciples of the Trawlerman are the people Faulkner has made himself responsible for and as early as Chapter 22 a thread develops that many of them are naïve, and young, and almost comedically earnest.

And yet, at the same time, these 'children' are part of-- at the forefront of, even-- Faulkner's acquistion of power within the Parish. In the same episode, Thurrocks accurately articulates both the depth of the faith they have in him and the result to which it is already leading.

So. Young members of the faith as (at least superficially) earnestly artless and yet having a dangerously fervent power of belief. Rane, when we meet them in Chapter 30, seems like another genuine and ardent neophyte.

They're eager and conscientious and I half expected them (like Jasp) to last less than two episodes. But they become a quiet background voice to Faulkner's downward spiral. They take on administrative tasks, attending to Roemont when he visits the Gulch, and-- increasingly-- becoming an emotional and social anchor for Faulkner as he slides into depression.

Rane doesn't seem to be a born diplomat. Earnest. Naïve. Clumsy. But I think that ambiguity the stage directions draw out is interesting. Is Rane really so ingenuous? Are they 'pretend[ing]'? They've taken on so much responsibility for the faith, smoothing over awkwardnesses, arranging things in the background, organising transport and supplies while Faulkner broods. Is it earnest? Pragmatic? Both?

I think it's very easy to read Rane as having unreciprocated romantic feelings towards Faulkner. I certainly do. Their devotion shades into excess, and in the moments where the pair seem to engage almost as equals, like the car ride in Chapter 38, there's this real sense of simultaneous shared joy and an underlying desire on Rane's part to 'get Faulkner's attention' and prove themself worthy of it. To impress him.

This Chapter sees Faulkner experience a dark night of the soul. He's already depressed to the point of suicidal ideation, detached from his surroundings and utterly anhedonic. He's clearly not equipped to acknowledge or accept love from others, romantic or platonic. This episode is about caring for someone who is fundamentally disconnected from you, who will never see things the way you do but must be loved and kept safe nonetheless. It's also where Rane saves Faulkner's life.

Rane, acting as caretaker, quietly reverses the established power dynamic of their relationship. Faulkner's attempted drowning directly parallels his childhood experience of conversion as recounted in Series 1. He becomes the lost, frightened child in their dynamic.

This speech obviously underlines Faulkner's insecurities, his youth, and the validity of his prophetic status as "chosen". We know he's engineered and manipulated his own glorification.

But it also draws attention to how Rane acts as a parallel to Faulkner. Faulkner, when we first meet him, seems precisely this enthusiastic if inept younger disciple. 'Was I like that?' he asks himself about Thurrocks. Maybe he was once. Because we see the same kind of darkness surface in Rane. As Faulkner clearly no longer cares if he lives or dies, they take on more and more of the unspoken burden of leadership.

They 'stage-manage'. They become the structural surety at the heart of the myth of Faulkner, putting in his hard work, handing him his kelp wreath, shoring up his crumbling facade. They recognise the gap between what he is and what his people want him to be, what they need him to be.

'It will be different when it's written'. Did Faulkner trip, or was he shoved? Does it even matter? We don't truly know whether Rane has taken the wheel as the endgoal of some Machiavellian scheme, or as a decision of pure pragmatism motivated by their faithful zeal, or out of desperate, genuine, self-deluding care for Faulkner, but is it important?

Faulkner isn’t just made up of Faulkner any more. Rane is being quietly assimilated into his legend. 'When it's written', I doubt they'll be much more than a footnote in his story. But I would also dispute whether High Prophet Faulkner isn't substantially a creation of unnoticed, unappreciated Sibling Rane.