#christ i'd love to find the time to actually draw it

[sforzesco]

paris of troy! during those years he was a shepherd.

I was reading cartledge's book on thebes and every now and then the spartan focuses wrt to the pantheon of gods comes up. sparta has nothing to do with this except for where it does, but apollo karneios was discussed and that got my attention, which circled back to paris, and then I started thinking about the paris + apollo link

I also started thinking about narrative rejections bc paris has a funky absence in the iliad that's giving a kind of...a vibe. your parents shouldn't have had you, the story doesn't want you around, but oh boy are you there anyway, manifested into existence. no matter what, doom must manifest in flesh form. it's a narrative necessity, the actual incident (the judgement) is secondary.

The Judgement of Paris in Later Byzantine Literature, E. M. Jeffreys

weird! love it! almost (but not quite) reminds me of troilos' murder at achilles' hands lurking in the guts of the iliad. it's there, even when it's not. more importantly tho: sheep. I miss working on a farm with sheep and goats and cows and--

[luveline]

Hi! I remember a while ago you said zombie!au Steve might have a hobby of drawing? Would love to see some of that maybe w r as his muse:D

steve zombie!au fem. 1k

You return to the camp with your new best friend at your side. In matching coats, no less. 

"Christ," Steve says, shaking his head in disgust. 

He loves —loves— that you have a friend, someone who might care about you just as much as he does. You deserve to be loved, and cherished, and known for your worth. You're a human vestibule of sweetness and God knows it wasn't going to be long before someone else noticed. 

But matching coats? "Alright, where's mine?" he asks. 

"Didn't have your size, handsome," Eddie says, giving you a quick and purely amicable hug. "See you later." 

He scampers off to who knows where and you sit down. You don't hide your happy smile, and Steve's glad for it even if it does make him jealous.  "He's so nice," you say. 

"No, he's not." 

"He is. He's almost as nice as you. And he helped me find you something." 

"After he outfitted my girlfriend in a couple's costume. I'm surprised he had the energy." 

"You're so jealous," you say, your happy smile growing in size with the seconds. 

"I'm actually making myself feel sick." 

"I can wear a different coat if it–" 

"Shut up! As long as you like me better, wear what you want." He shakes off his petty jealousy and takes your hand. For once, he's sitting on a towel rather than just grass or dirt, but his efforts to avoid extensive grass stainage mean nothing when your muddy shoe brushes his leg. "Nice. Thanks." 

"Sorry, sorry," you murmur, swinging your backpack off of your shoulder and sighing as you bend into yourself. "Jeez, my back hurts." You breathe out, a low moan of sound that drags. He can feel your pain. (He can't, but he figures that he loves you so much you're now connected spiritually to one another.) "How come I keep going on these expeditions and you keep staying home?" 

"I'm good with the kids." 

"Mm. Maybe you'll come on the next one anyways? I miss you when I'm gone." 

"I miss you too," he says. "More, I'd say." 

You giggle. "Whatever, you always have to be better than me. Shut up! Shut up, I'm trying to give you the things I found for you." 

Steve draws a zipper closed over his lips and flicks away the key. You get into these moods with each other sometimes, perhaps from having spent as much time together as you have, where a faked aggression rises between you. It's almost like you would've spoken at the start of the end of the world, when it was him and you alone, and Steve wasn't in the best of moods. The play fighting soon dies down as you open your bag; receiving gifts is always a pleasure. 

"First, underwear." 

"Thank you," he says, accepting the eight pack of boxers you offer like a man who's crawled the Sahara being given a glass of water. "So much." 

"You're welcome. Socks, a shirt, a new belt, a brace for your knee." You dump it on the towel next to him one by one. Your bag must've been heavy carrying all this, and it keeps going. You've brought him soap, hair elastics, razor blades, chapstick. The community you belong to is heavy on sharing, but you're free to bring home whatever you like so long as you're willing to carry it unaided once you've contributed to the food drive. You've clearly crammed your bag full of stuff for him, unveiling only underwear and socks for yourself. 

"You couldn't find any toothpaste?" he asks. 

You toss a pack of cigarettes at him without force. "Sadly, no. But I think Robin can get us some with those, right?" 

"I wanna smoke these so bad." 

You laugh and shake your head, fondly disapproving. "You don't! We can just kiss more, alleviate your cravings." 

"Weirdo." 

You lean forward, putting your cold hand on his cheek to leverage him closer. "You knew this when you met me," you say, kissing his cheek.

Steve's good on the cravings front after that. He swears that when things are at their worst a kiss from you could keep him going. Your lips can ease the ache of an empty stomach and the shattering heat of his ever-sprained knee.

You pull away gently like you're worried you'll hurt him in your detangling. Honestly, you might. Steve imagines you leaving sometimes like his arm being torn off. 

You reach back into the back for a parcel wrapped in a shirt for protection. The pencils and sketchbook you got Steve are long gone, lost with the rest of your possessions in the middle of a college campus on the Michigan border. Finding things like that is hard, and it hasn't been on Steve's mind. 

Apparently, it's been on yours.

"These are nice ones, right? The pencils?" you ask, having unwrapped your parcel, a soft backed sketchbook and a small metal case of pencils in hand. "There's only twelve, but I even found a sharpener so you won't have to do it with your knife. Sorry there's no black, I know you like the darker details."

Steve flicks through the sketchbook without thinking, every page blank. It isn't very big either, but it's perfect for purpose. 

He sets it aside with the pencils near all your new things and gets on his knees, tugging you in for a hug. "Thank you," he says, and he's said thank you a hundred times to you, but this one feels awkward, clumsy in his mouth. 

"You're welcome. Just promise you'll draw me again." 

"You're the only thing I want to draw." He kisses your cheek in emphasis. "You're the most beautiful thing everywhere we go." 

"That's such a line," you say, sounding melted. 

Easy, he thinks, turning your face to his for a kiss. Soft, as sweet as he can manage. With you, kisses start soft and end too rough, he can't help it. He remembers you're there and his to kiss and it drives him crazy. 

It's a little easier to stop today. Steve is genuinely eager to draw again, and in a week or two there won't be a page in his book without your likeness, his muse. 

[ouroborosorder]

Do you have an instance of Arknights VFX that gets frequently praised that you as a VFX artist think is mediocre or bad?

EBENHOLZ' SKIN "EINE VARIATION" IS A CRIME AGAINST ME SPECIFICALLY.

Look. I love Ebenholz, a lot. His effects are really strong, too! Some of my personal favorites. But this skin. Jesus Christ this skin.

I have seen so many people praising this skin as having good effects or being better than his original and it genuinely makes me wonder if half of the effects are actually rendered in some sort of shrimp colors that everyone but me can see.

There is not a single part of this skin's effects that I don't hate. Not just because I find them ugly, uninteresting, and unclear, but because I think they fundamentally misunderstand who Ebenholz is.

You asked for this.

Part 1 - The Colors.

The actual art for his skin has a beautiful striking blue and light gray background, with the light pink Arts accentuating it, and then the blood red and pitch black of his outfit meant to draw the eye to the center. This works perfectly in the art, so what's wrong?

First problem. Ebenholz doesn't have the blue background in gameplay. Meaning that his effects are red (not pink, like the art, they are red) and his skin is red. So there's extreme monochrome happening, with absolutely no interesting contrast between him and his Arts. His Elite Charge is blue, at the very least, so his signature gimmick stands out uniquely, which is quite nice! That's a great decision that won't cause any problems down the line at all.

"Oh, but Keys, it's so that the red Arts stand out when he uses his S3 and summons that giant goat spirit in the background!" That's a great point, person I just made up. Please remember this excellent point for later.

Part 2 - General Effects

The effect starts with a deploy animation wherein Ebenholz is surrounded by sparkles like some sort of magical girl. The deploy effect is genuinely bad in so many ways, mostly related to timing and motion, but this rant is going to be long enough. And I'm gonna need to focus and talk about the sparkles.

The biggest thing to know about Eine Variation is this image. Get acquainted with it. If there was a recurring visual motif in Eine Variation, it is this piece from the original art.

And yeah, as an effects artist, I'd be amped to work on this. This looks fucking sick as shit. It's dynamic, it's chaotic, it's got harsh lines to contrast the flowing music staff, it's great. So let's see how this texture looks in g- okay what the fuck.

In the game, it looks nothing like the art. It's literally just the stock glimmer effect. It's not even a new texture. This thing's been in the game since release. It looks. Bad. It's way too simplistic. Because it wasn't meant to be the center of attention, it's meant to appear for an instant and then fade. Like, you know. A glimmer.

What you just saw in the screenshot above is one of Ebenholz' Mystic Caster charges. And it is easily my least favorite part of the entire skin.

Ebenholz (Original Flavor)'s Mystic Caster charges has one of my favorite visual touches in the entire game. Ebenholz fights using artifacts from the Witch King whose power he inherits - a wand and a set of five Originium dice. So he wields the wand, and has die rotate around him as he fights. In-game, they represent this by his charges being the dice, rotating around his hand. This is, as we say in the vfx industry, fucking badass. So naturally they removed the dice entirely in Eine Variation.

Fuck.

Fine, alright. Maybe it's him... moving further from the Witch King's influence, then? We'll go with that hey stop looking at his S3 what are you doing don't get ahead of me.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "hey, Keys, this is unfair. You're asking us to judge an animated effect based on a static picture of it." Well, my dear reader, I have bad news. You just saw the entire charge's visual. The whole thing.

They are a glimmer of light that does not pulse or twinkle. They just. Sit there. Floating. Again, it's just so simplistic, it's not even interesting to talk about.

The only good thing I can say about it is that it's way easier to tell how many charges he has since they're bigger, more spread out, and not moving. Also the Elite charge is WAY more distinct, since it's bright blue now to contrast with the red normal charges. Which is nice! A good decision! It would sure be a shame if it bit them in the ass later!

Part 3 - Attack and Skill 1

Did you think I was kidding when I said that the sparkles are the sole visual motif in this skin?

I hate these attack trails. Not only are they too simplistic, they're just too cute. I joked about magical girls before, but dear god, this just doesn't fucking look right. This skin is literally described as him being apathetic and miserable as a noble, so why are the effects so... Colorful and cute? Ebenholz isn't a cutesy goofy music-themed magical girl, Ebenholz is a sad gay goth kid who would create a fake My Immortal confession for attention.

I also hate the musical notes. I know I complained about the glimmers being too one-note (pardon the pun), but they just don't interact with the rest of the effect at all. There's nothing else musical about what is happening here. They feel added to remind you that he is casting music.

God I fucking hate the sparkles so goddamned much. I also find it really funny that one single musical note bursts forth with each hit. These shapes are just... So boring, so simple. But put a pin in that for a later.

His S1 uptime comes with an awful aura. he glows red. There is only red and white. this is all there is. This is all there will ever be. That's all I've got about S1.

Part 3 - Skill 2

Oh jesus go back to the red and white

First off, I find these goat so fucking ugly. The synths are a truly terrible choice, because synths and digital music don't come up in any capacity throughout the rest of the effects. So. Great work. This doesn't make sense.

Anyway I hate the color here. The original has a great two-tone black smoke with bright blue glowing eyes, contrasting with Eben's orange Arts. In the skin they slapped an awful blue glow haze over them. This makes them just completely draw visual attention, while they don't match up with Ebenholz' aesthetic at all. if you could see the black, there would be a clear visual link between them, but... Nope. It's ONLY blue, motherfuckers.

Also, they passively emit triangles, which is the only time in this entire effect that the Arts = Geometric Triangles visual idea appears in the entire skin based around an arts caster. Yay for recurring game-wide motifs!

Shockingly, I hate the explosion. It's passable, it's fine. But the timing is absolutely awful. The original's feels like an explosion that is pulling the target in, but the skin's feels like an explosion followed by absorption. It makes it feel less like an explosion and more like a contrivance. Also, it spawns only like, four notes total, which is just so low. Please have more notes, you even have the musical staff, you're so close to having this look like musical arts. I also hate the random swirl of red. The goat didn't have any red in it. Why does this have red. Monochrome would have actually worked better, this is just a summon.

Part 4 - Sound of Silence

Eine Variation S3 features Ebenholz getting hoverhanded by a goat.

I wish I had any other way to put it. But he gets hoverhanded by a goat for the entire uptime of this attack.

What even is this thing? Obviously, it's the goat behind him in his splash art, but what is it? Is it the Witch King? That would make sense, but why is the Witch King's avatar blue? The Witch King has literally never been blue, he's always been associated as being red. Unless this isn't The Witch King, in which case, what the fuck is it then?

I hate this effect more than anything else in this game. The ghost looks absolutely awful. it is very blatantly just the art from the actual skin, slapped behind him with no regard for aesthetic consistancy. Or even regard for if the image is readable at the distance Arknights is played at. The goatghost.jpg is not animated at all, but the hands move up and down, which weirdly only further reveals how static the ghost is. Also the hands aren't animated outside of going up and down which is just so uncanny and uncomfortable. It just reveals how desperately they needed to have some animation to make it not look like absolute hot garbage, and they still failed.

After an entire skin of absurdly simplistic geometric shapes and basic ass textures, suddenly they think they can pull off some shit that looks like a granblue render. This doesn't even look in-line with the rest of the skin's effects, let alone with the chibi artstyle.

Now. Why I truly, truly hate this attack.

When you activate S3, all of Ebenholz' Charges become Elite charges. Meaning they all become blue.

The charges all finally become blue.

In the only part of the skin where you have a blue background.

I just. I can't figure out how you'd fuck this up this bad. If the Elite Charges were red, it would look like the fucking skin art, with the red notes on the pink staff. They'd stand out, or at least look fucking decent. How many charges does Ebenholz have? Oh I don't know THEY'RE FUCKING BLUE ON BLUE.

WHY. WHY ANY OF THIS. WHY ALL OF THIS. I'M IN HELL. THIS WAS MADE TO TORMENT ME PERSONALLY RIGHT

anyway I will give credit where credit is due. I actually quite like the trail when he casts his stocks in S3.

The slight orange two-tone and complicated trails add a lot of nuance and depth to the effect, and the glimmer is toned down to the point where I can see the diamond shape hidden underneath. There is one singular silver lining to this cloud. It could use more musical touches and less fucking sparkles but at this point I need to compliment something.

Finale - Why Do I Give A Shit

Eine Variation launched as part of the Bloodline of Combat skins that came out with Lone Trail. It released alongside Specter the Unchained's Born as One; my personal favorite skin in the entire game. It is a skin that perfectly conveys Laruntina's love of natural beauty and Specter's love of poetry and recitation, bringing them together into poems reflected in a starry lake. The effects are serene and dreamlike, peaceful yet chaotic. It conveys who they are going into the future, who they are together.

Born as One is Bloodline of Combat at its best. Bloodline of Combat is at its best when it tells you something about who this character is at this part of their life. How they change, how they grow, how they look at the world in this point of their life. This is the story that good effects can tell.

So I ask you: What story does Eine Variation's effects tell?

If this an Ebenholz who is growing further from the Witch King's legacy into his own man, then why does the avatar of the Witch King appear behind him? Why does the flavor text describe this as clothing worn by every Graf Urtica? Why does it not lean further into the synth aesthetic to separate himself from the classical music of Leithanien?

If this is an Ebenholz who is currently stuck within the confines of nobility, why is he not wielding the dice associated with his title as Graf Urbica? Why do his fucking goats have synths instead of traditional instruments? Why is the Witch King the wrong color?

And most importantly to all of this: Why are all the shapes so simple?

Yes, Arknights' Arts are geometric. They're usually represented by simple triangles. This is true. But think about who Ebenholz is.

Ebenholz is not a simple and elegant person. Ebenholz is a man who nails complicated, difficult, strange flute solos, but who fails to do simple rhythms and scales. He excels at the complex, the elaborate, and the detailed, and fails at the simplistic. This is always how Ebenholz has been.

So a skin full of simple shapes, easy language, and flat colors... Isn't how he'd fight. It's not who he is. It's not how he'd act. It doesn't just feel wrong, it feels like it's not made for him.

I don't just hate this skin because I think its effects are bad. I mean, I do, and they definitely are.

I hate this skin because it just... Fundamentally does not understand who Ebenholz is. And it definitely does not understand why he is so special.

[microchive]

either cam or gideon for the character thing!!!

GAH!!!! picking gideon because you already did cam also i want to talk about gideon nav my best friend gideon nav

favorite thing about them: how do i even begin.... i love that she isn't a hero and doesn't become one through the narrative, i love that she is so blatantly posturing all of the time and she builds herself up to be this big confident sexy funnyman because she needs that to keep herself afloat but what she is in reality isn't any lesser! she is funny and she's shy and nervous and she's so powerfully butch to the bone in a way that avoids all negative stereotypes but still manages to highlight the pitfalls butches find themselves in. she has so many layers and people reduce her to some kind of himbo when in reality she's objectively both too mean and too intelligent to be a himbo. i love that you can sense from the very beginning that she is sitting on a massive broiling lake of sadness and for all of her posturing she is both incredibly delicate and one of the strongest characters in the story. i love that she sucks so bad and died a virgin like christ jesus and even missing half her soul she remains consistent not in her outward personality but in her ability to shield her soft underbelly through some sort of performative attitude but EVERYONE can see right through her except gideon herself because everything she does is loud and annoying. she's impulsive and passionate and. incredibly annoying. i hate her and she's my favorite person ever

least favorite thing about them: probably the war crimes but it's not like she's passionate about war crimes she just doesn't gaf. this is just what a lesbian situationship will do to a guy

favorite line: literally all of them man everything she says makes me laugh.... here are some standouts though: - "If my heart had a dick you would kick it" - "I have lots of fealty in me. I fealt the Emperor with every bone in my body. I fealt hard" - "You've got two short minutes left before I punch you right in the butthole" - everything she says when talking to ianthe

brOTP: her and camilla ooooohhhh..... also her and pal. gideon works so well with the sixth house because they're just as annoying and generally peculiar as her they're just more lowkey about it

OTP: i'd have to say griddlehark because i have never stopped thinking about them ever but i do enjoy gideon x camilla (i forgot their ship name) because the cav4cav shit is so good godddd they're just two sides of the same coin, the same story with different upbringings they would help each other out

nOTP: not a huge fan of gideon and corona just because i think corona needs to chase someone who doesn't like her for enrichment purposes and gideon's schoolgirl crush on corona probably doesn't translate well into an actual relationship (let's be real though none of these relationships are going "well") but it is an interesting dynamic

random headcanon: i think she is really gross. genuinely. she picks her nose and doesn't wash her face and harrow gets on her ass about it which i guess is reasonable. also more intense but i definitely think both gideon and harrow have food issues but while harrow copes by being intensely picky gideon has some textual evidence of binge eating which makes sense to me character wise and also would explain why she developed muscle on planet malnutrition

unpopular opinion: i don't really have any once again?? i guess i like to imagine she isn't as attractive as she thinks she is but a lot of people write and draw her as a lesbian adonis which i understand because thats how she describes herself lmao. i think she's kind of cute in a weird way and tamsyn describes her as boyishly pretty so in my mind she's the kind of hot a straight man would never agree with. she is still the hottest person in the world to me

song i associate with them: I HAVE SO MANY. main ones are: father by the front bottoms, dance in room song by sipper, bodysnatchers by radiohead, suffering jukebox by silver jews, knife in the coffee by car seat headrest

favorite picture of them: this fanart: (this artist does such a delicious gideon ohhh i need her.) https://www.tumblr.com/bastardnoodle/741903153830723584/im-in-the-middle-of-reading-harrow-and-i-miss-her?source=share

[ainsi-soit-il]

I’m actually really interested in learning what your denomination thinks about sanctification if you feel up to a long post about it? (Ulterior motive: I wanna go through and find the parts where Catholics disagree/define sanctification differently.)

Sorry for taking so long to reply! Thank you for your patience, and thanks for asking!

To some degree, Wesleyan theology does treat salvation as something that's immediate, with John Wesley writing at one point, "It [salvation] is not something at a distance, It is a present thing, a blessing which through the free mercy of God you are now in possession of."

But Wesleyan theology (and I'd argue Scripture itself too) also holds that even then, justification is just the beginning, and we are continually being perfected by God's grace.

This is how John Wesley put it in The Scripture Way of Salvation:

From the time of our being "born again," the gradual work of sanctification takes place. We are enabled by the Spirit to "mortify the deeds of the body" (Romans 8:11, 13) and of our evil nature, and as we are more and more dead to sin, we are more and more alive to God.

In other words, God's grace and the power of the Holy Spirit slowly transform our deeds and desires, so that we become more and more like Christ.

In the Wesleyan understanding of sanctification, sanctification takes place as believers grow to love God more. We draw a lot on St. John's language of "being perfected in love" in 1 John 4.

This is how love is made perfect in us, enabling us to have confidence on the Day of Judgment, because even in this world we have become like him. In love there is no fear; indeed, perfect love casts out fear, because fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not yet achieved perfection in love. Therefore, we love because he first loved us. (NCB, v. 17-19)

Effectively, as we grow to know and love God more, we find our desires transformed. Sin becomes less and less attractive. We no longer want the same things that we wanted before, and instead our desires are increasingly aligned with the will of God.

And that is effectively what Christian perfection (or "being perfected in love", or "entire sanctification"... Wesley didn't tend to stick with one term for things) means. It's the point where there's no more room in one's heart for sinful desires, because one is that full of the love of God. Irish theologian William J. Abraham described it as, "the point in [someone's] relationship with God where disobedience [i]s no longer a live option for them."

It's worth pointing out that this perfection is not absolute. We're finite creatures, after all. We get into misunderstandings, lack knowledge, etc. and so as a result, we'll still end up sinning. But Wesleyan theology places a distinction between these sorts of sins and the intentionally-done sort of sins we are freed from when we are perfected in love. (From what I understand, Catholic theology has a similar distinction between venial sins and mortal sins.)

This is distinct from Presbyterians and most Baptists (both within the same umbrella of Protestant theology), where entire sanctification is something we never quite attain in life. Even so, a Baptist or Presbyterian might argue, we still are called to keep "running the race", to use St. Paul's analogy.

Hope this helps!

[truths33k3r4]

okay i HAVE to tell you - i stumbled across your videos recently in a mid-organic-chemistry-session-break and i’m so happy you find happiness doing these projects. 2012 TMNT was my JAM and i was recently remembering it and started looking at the fandom again. it was the show that made me interested in animation and voice acting (definitely as a hobby because i have yet to pursue those paths seriously and can barely draw haha but one day i want to do animatics :) ). but to see a girl do these things AND be openly Christian?? it’s like everything I had wanted to do in the past. you’re THE creator i would’ve loved when i was a teenager watching our turtles grow into the lean mean green team we love. wishing you the best always, Melissa!! God bless you and your’s 💖💖💖

AWWWWWWWWW THANK YOU SO MUCHHHHH <3

Hey, as long as you're breathing you still have time to pursue your dreams of being an animator and voice actor. :) I've only been practicing drawing since 2020, but before that my skills were ZIP- All you need is drive and practice. :)

Behold my art in 2020 ~

And my art now ~ (This is actually a re-draw of a 2012 scene!) :)

Put the time, energy, and love into it, and I have no doubt your skills will grow fast. :) Character studies also helped me too! I'd practice with drawing the Rise characters, then the 2012 characters and so on. :)

And I gotta be honest with you, I was nervous for a while to outwardly state my beliefs and relationship with God and Christ. It took weeks of prayer before I had the guts to share the Gospel as one of my earliest posts here on Tumblr. But ever since then, God brought me to the phrase "to God be the glory", and I've been using it ever since in every single video and project I post. :) So thank you for telling me that my channel encouraged you and inspired you <3 Whoever you are, dear anonymous, I pray you'll get the time and energy to pursue your life-long dreams. :)

Thank you for touching my heart <3

To God be the glory :)

~ Melissa

[quohotos]

So I don't have any art prepared for 810nicle day, so instead let me regale you of a story of a time where I didn't make some bionicle art. It was a bit of a shitshow.

So it was around 2017 I think, I was in high school. Back then I was on facebook and in this Bionicle fan forum/shitpost group called "Bionicle Maskposting". Honestly it was a great community with so many injokes, having to leave it behind was one of the reasons I stayed on facebook for so long after it stopped being a good platform. Usually people would share memes, mocs, and lore thoughts, but on a rare occasion people would try to find folks to help them with new group projects.

One of these fateful cases was a person who was trying to put together a crew to make a bionicle fan comic. I'd been teaching myself vector, having been inspired by the Bionicle flash games, so I tentatively offered my service to the project. I was still learning and not super confident in my abilities. I told them I probably couldn't do it on my own, but maybe could do backgrounds and trace overs in a vector style.

I got added to their discord server, it was like the third server I ever joined on discord. The mastermind behind all of this was very excited to have someone on board, and was quick to catch me up on what he'd been working on. He showed me his block out of the comic so far, there was no actual art, just all black panels and the dialogue to go with them. And it was... oh god it was bad.

The premise of the comic: It's set in an alternate universe where Tahu is the soul survivor of the Toa Mata. The rest of the Toa are brutally killed by Makuta and now he's haunted by horrific visions, survivor's guilt, and PTSD. He also has a son. Love is cannon in this universe and he has to raise the child he sired with Gali before she was ripped to shreds by a crab.

It was uhhh... not exactly the kind of story I wanted to sign on to, not to mention it was just poorly written, probably a teenager like me at the time. Everyone writes stuff like that, nothing wrong about it in the long term... but then it got worse.

This new guy joined the server, one I didn't recognize. He had like a wolf avatar for his discord profile. He immediately takes one look at what's been planned so far and says, "I love it," but then he has to ask one crucial question before he can continue.

"Is there Jesus in it?"

No he didn't say it like that, I'm paraphrasing, but he asked if there were going to be any themes of Christianity or Tahu's faith in the story.

what the fuck?

Why?

Why would that be in the Bionicle story? What a socially unaware thing to ask? Is he trolling this guy?

Well the ringleader guy who started the project responds mere seconds later

"Yeah, totally, Tahu's faith in Jesus Christ and his struggle with doubt is going to be a big part of the story."

Again, paraphrasing, but it was an enthusiastic response from the guy. They then went on to very rapidly start exchanging ideas about how they can add more christian themes to this already very cursed Bionicle fanfiction. Around that time I politely announced that I didn't feel like I could contribute to the project and excused myself from the server. I'm glad I wasn't ruder, they were doing their own thing there was no reason to be mean about it even if it was buck fucking wild.

I'm assuming it never came out, and part of me regrets leaving so early because right now I'm morbidly curious about how it turned out even if it's probably the last thing I'd ever want to read or draw.

Anyways that's my story, and part of the reason why even though I was one of the biggest Bionicle nerds you can imagine while growing up I generally stay away from fan forum discussions of it as an adult.

Happy Bionicle day

[cellard0ors]

Where Eliza gets off to, Travis could really care less about.

His concern now is keeping Laura safe, and while his mind is still a reeling, complicated mess, he takes her hand in his and looks for shelter.

He feels both drunk and hungover, the way everything in his brain is sloshing around:

Laura and himself playing pretend pirates.

Laura and himself eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Laura kissing him - kissing him so well after days and days of deliriously good practice.

She's everywhere. She's in everything. She brings color to his past, to his life. Jesus Christ, how could he have forgotten her?

There's been a hole inside him for so long and now it's full - overflowing, bursting with her. With love for her and as they take refuge behind a large clump of trees, Silas's howls ringing out again, Travis turns to her, "Laura, Laura I'm so sorry. Fuck, all that stupid shit I said-!"

"It's okay." Her voice is warbling with emotion as she runs her fingers through his hair, tucking a few strands behind one ear, "You didn't mean it."

"No." He grumbles and he takes that same hand, kissing it tenderly, "No, I did. Don't make excuses for me. I was a fucking idiot. But I'll make it up to you. I swear to God, I will."

Silas howls again and Travis curses, pulling her closer as if to shelter her, "Once we get ourselves out of this mess. Any ideas?"

"You're asking me?!"

"Yeah." Travis deadpans, "You're the smart one."

Laura's smile wiggles some, overcome with emotion as she is, "You really do remember..."

She looks at his mouth and dear fucking God, does he want to kiss her, but, "Gotta wait, sweetheart. You kiss me now, I'm not going to stop. And while there's no other way I'd like to die..."

Laura draws in a loud breath and nods, directing her gaze back up to his eyes, "Okay. You're right."

Looking around the copse of trees they're hiding behind, Laura turns to Travis, "Alright, you said this site disappeared after the fire?"

Travis nods, "The fire happened at night. Next day we started the clean up - firetruck crew, garbage men, cops - the whole lot. We cleaned out some debris, a few bodies - but the day after," he shakes his head, "It was all gone."

"Hmm, no doubt Eliza shrouded it after that, because she not only came fully into her incorporeal form, but because she wanted to protect her body."

"That sounds plausible." Travis agrees, "We weren't finished in just one day - there was a lot left behind. We thought we had plenty of time. When none of us could find it..."

He lets out an aggravated snarl, "Let's just say red tape in a small town is both looser and stickier than you'd think. Mayor wanted it all tied up quick - found the whole thing an embarrassment - was worried it'd reflect poorly on his reelection."

Travis actually spits to one side, "After the curse hit my family, we looked for it too. But no luck. Yet here we are..."

Laura swishes her mouth from side to side in thought, "Well, it's been a long time, but looking around now, I seem to recall the contortionist's stage being over there and the cotton candy stand over there...so that would put Silas's cage and Eliza's caravan..."

She peeks around the trees once more before motioning to Travis that he should follow her. They stick low to the ground, picking carefully through the underbrush around them so as to make little to no noise.

They reach a burned out area of trees, small signs of life returning to the scorched wood in the form of green moss.

There's a loud, shuffling to one side of them and Laura grabs one of Travis's arms, tugging on it tightly so that he'll move with her behind some boulders.

They do so and only seconds later, Silas darts by, his nose raised and sniffing loudly. The two hold their breath as the werewolf prowls around the spot they were just standing.

Neither of them can say why luck has chosen to smile upon them for once, as Silas can't seem to pinpoint their exact location. Grunting and growling as he bounds off into the distance, away from them.

With the danger passed (for now) the two practically collapse in on one another. Laura gasps 'That was close' even as Travis looks at her and says softly, "You haven't changed."

Laura blinks at him, confused, until he looks down, his voice bitter, "You're just as beautiful as you were the last time I saw you. Just as young..."

"A-actually, I'm twenty two now..." She offers this as if it will help, but he merely snorts even as she tacks on, "In a manner of speaking..."

"How-?"

Laura shrugs, "Magic. She kept Silas and I young. Better that way - easier to keep us in her control. It's not the kind of spell someone can use on themselves though, so-?"

Another shrug, "She aged. It's probably why she forgot she'd been here before. It's why I sent you the tickets..."

"You found out I was the sheriff." Travis sighs and rubs at his face, guilt hitting him like a freight train, "You thought I'd come and save you. Save both of you."

One last helpless shrug and he lets out a sour laugh, "Here I was earlier, blaming you - when this really is all my fucking fault."

"No, Travis-!"

"If I'd have just fucking gone that night, none of this would have happened. I've thought that before, long before tonight," He laughs again, sadder this time, "At least now I know for sure it's true."

Laura looks like she wants to object again, but Travis isn't done as he looks at her, takes in her lovely face, "Look at you...still so young, still so beautiful...and here I am..."

He shakes his head ruefully, looking away from her, and she finally gets her chance to speak, "You have nothing to apologize for, Travis. You grew up. That's all."

"You can admit it: I grew old." Travis stresses, looking back at her, "Old and nasty - twisted. You don't even know the promises I broke, the ones I made to you-!"

"Hey!" Laura cuts him off sternly, takes his face in her hands so he'll look directly at her, "You didn't know you were breaking anything. Okay? I took your memories from you...I-I thought it would be easier. That you'd be fine without me...happy even..."

She runs her thumbs over his cheekbones and he leans into the touch as she whispers, "I hurt you first, Travis. So...it's okay. And-and I know you just got your memories back, but...nothing's changed for me. I still lov-!"

Silas howls again and there's the sound of him thrashing through the forest in the distance. He's not close to them, far from it, but the sounds remind them of their mission, of what they're here to do.

Laura lets his face go and returns with determination, "To be continued..."

"Oh," Travis grins, "You better believe it."

The two move out from behind the boulders. Bound and determined to continue their search.

[novelmonger]

A few reasons that I, personally, believe God is real

There are many compelling theological, philosophical, historical, and scientific reasons to believe in God, but I'll leave those for others smarter than I am to enumerate them. Today, I just wanted to give a short, non-exhaustive list of why I believe in God, just from my own personal experience, because I think that can be just as compelling as the most well-written work of apologetics.

If God doesn't exist, what's the point? Why do good things? Why love? Why not just jump off a bridge or stay in bed forever? If God doesn't exist, then heaven doesn't exist, and we really are all just animals with no further purpose than to keep living until we die and become dirt. I'd rather believe there's a greater story being told, with an actual purpose and direction to my life, than just plodding along in a world devoid of hope.

I've known too many people and heard too many stories of people giving up everything for the sake of Christ and the gospel, including my own parents. If so many people, across so many countries and thousands of years, think God is worth everything they have to give, there has to be something to it.

When I look at a beautiful sunset, or hear a bird call, or smell a lilac, or feel the sun on my skin and a cool breeze in my hair, it's impossible for me to believe that any of that could be the result of chance. Such beauty feels created, the same way a symphony sounds different from someone plunking random keys on a piano.

When I ask God for comfort, when I'm crying in the middle of the night and can't find rest, when I'm at my lowest and cry out to God for help, I can feel His comfort. Sometimes, I just find myself drawing a deeper breath and calming down. A few times, I've felt a physical weight on my chest, like the hand of a father as he tucks his daughter in.

Sometimes, when I least expect it (whether I'm praying for an answer or not), a Bible verse will suddenly pop into my mind, sometimes one that I haven't thought of in a long time or didn't think I'd even memorized, verses I had to Google to find out where they were, but they perfectly addressed my need in that moment. I've read the whole Bible multiple times before, so clearly they were in my head somewhere, but I believe God pulled them to the forefront of my mind when I needed them. This is how I believe the Holy Spirit speaks to me, rather than with audible words.

Every time I've prayed for help, healing, wisdom, protection, peace...I've gotten an answer. It's not always an immediate answer, it's not always the one I want or expect, but I can always point to something that answers my request. Too many times, things have "just happened" to work out in ways I never would have expected. It's too consistent to be a coincidence.

I am a writer. I live and breathe stories. Stories are how I make sense of the world. Why? Why would I care about stories staying true to their themes, about character growth, about the climax and the eucatastrophe and the happy endings, if I'm just an animal? Why have stories been so important for the entirety of human history? The only answer that makes sense to me is that we are characters in the hands of the Great Storyteller, trying in our own fumbling ways to do what He does.

Please feel free to add to this list with your own personal reasons! I may add onto it myself later.

[rotgospels]

hello! i hope it’s okay for me to ask this— no need to reply if it’s too personal or just a waste of breath.

i was wondering if you wouldn’t mind sharing when and how you realized you wanted to pursue religion? i’m 21 and i grew up catholic, though most of my knowledge/memories on it has been blocked out bc it was during a rough patch of life. even though, i still find catholicism to be very interesting— not exactly healing (yet?) but something i want to learn more about— and there are multiple times when i want to call it quits on everything else and become a nun. i know this isn’t enough reason to want to devote myself to a religion i once stubbornly opposed. but as i grow older, i recognize i just needed something to blame, so i chose god. now, the want to call it quits and join a monastery is not unending, but definitely repetitive.

also, i saw a previous anon mentioning they were a lesbian leftist and how becoming a nun would make sense. i know it’s ignorant of me to ask, but would you please explain the relationship between nunnery and leftist beliefs alongside queer identity? no worries if that’s too much to do.

i apologize for all the questions— i’m just really curious and would love to learn from someone with experience. your intelligence is evident and i hope to be as determined as you once i return to college! thanks so much!

Hello - asks like this are always okay!

It took a couple years for me to realise. I come from a family with negative experiences and preconceptions about Christianity so I resisted the pull I felt from age 18-20. I didn't have any clear moment of realisation, just a slow and steady movement towards Christ. I think God knew I needed to take it all at a snail's pace so He guided me towards different places, people, opportunities and experiences which continually revealed His presence in my life over time. A big part of this was finding the right church which accepted me as I was, who allowed me to serve and be part of their community despite - at that point - not identifying as a Christian at all.

If you feel a draw towards Catholicism and monastic life definitely listen to that; even if you think it comes from a place of 'escape'. I've met a few nuns over the years and they've always been women who have, in some sense, retreated, but are more connected to the heart of the world than anyone else I've ever come across. I'd say this is where any 'leftist' ideas comes from - as each nun lives in a local and global community together with other sisters (their networks are found all over the world). The last nun I met was a Franciscan who was extremely political due to work she'd done in the Middle East. She shared about what she'd seen and how this had radicalised and challenged her. So despite living in a convent/monastery, most nuns are active in society and abroad depending on their vocational calling.

There's actually a great book of personal accounts called "lesbian nuns: breaking silence" which outlines in its introduction the common conception that all nuns are lesbians. The authors tell us that this is because both groups fall outside of norms in similar ways (women who live and move through the world together essentially uninterested in males).

I really recommend reaching out to different orders which interest you, even if you're not ready to dive into Catholicism again just yet. I have a friend who is currently discerning the call towards this same thing, and she's been meeting up with a nun who is acting as a mentor/spiritual director for her so she can learn more as she works it out.

I hope some of this helps - there's never a rush when it comes to this kind of thing. Take your time in exploring x

[rodolfoparras]

I just wanted to say thank you for letting me ramble about my ocs so much😭❤ I appreciate it so much and sjhsnssn mwahh❤

I can not draw Virgil for some reason so I used a picrew for the time being😭 pretty boy

https://cdn.picrew.me/shareImg/org/202405/2212914_RoK42RVQ.png

https://cdn.picrew.me/shareImg/org/202405/2212914_inUiStZo.png

Idk if piercings like his would really be around in the 18-1900s but I'm giving him them regardless because I can🙏 The first one is his work outfit, second one is what he wears on his few days off. He has a very tragic story before he becomes a grim reaper :( hence why mitski is being played so much when working on him.

Basically he was a hooker and performer, he fell into a bad depression, felt numb to everything and chased after sex, drugs, alcohol, etc. To try feeling something :( eventually got to the point he was practically rotting in a room, just sleeping with man after man. He realized he looked yucky and his room was trashed, cleaned everything up and made himself all pretty. Everyone thought he was getting his life together finally but he actually ended it :( he wanted to be seen as pretty when he died (last words of a shooting star by mitski🙏)

Virgil was fucking pissed when he was brought back as a reaper, he still tends to lash out at William when he has bad days, not that William did anything wrong, he just needs someone to blame so he blames him. William doesn't really care and just stands there waiting for Virgil to be done so they can finish work😭

!!! Ride the Cyclone is a great musical, I'd recommend watching it or at least listening to more songs from it ! You can find a 'slime tutorial' of it in youtube if you're interested ! Also Ballad of Jane Doe and Noel's lament are really great songs, Noel's lament works for Virgil too :3

And Talia is just woowowow that song honestly made me cry it's just so pretty and his voice???! I ascended

Speaking of Cupid Talia though, he's Slavic too ! He's from Carantania though he lives in London :3 he can travel back and forth pretty easily though with his ability to fly. Also Talia uses his wings as an umbrella for William sometimes🙏 he just holds out his big fluffy wings and covers William, he doesn't care that he's getting soaked, as long as William is taken care of😭❤

-🌱

Of course sugar bee!!! I love hearing y’all out!! You have very interesting characters with intriguing backstories and relationships and I absolutely love reading about them!

Oh the haircut is so freaking neat!!!and I absolutely love his clothes what a fancy gentleman he is!

Oh Jesus Christ that was actually a heartbreaking twist😭 idk why but something about him getting his life together before ending it is soul crushing it genuinely made me sad lord

Virgil is very much me I’d be knocking on gods door asking to be set free bc to continue living / existing in this economy? Absolutely not

Ooo I Will absolutely listen to more songs bc I added this one to my playlist I love it!! and I’ll def check out the slime tutorial once I’m done with watching the am play through!!

Also hello we love a Slavic king!!!!! Now I’m imagining talia cursing Virgil out in the thickest Slavic accent every time he tries to cuss out William

[katsukithme]

First Aid

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Summary: Your pro hero boyfriend is annoyingly opposed to first aid, and you have to get a little persuasive.

Warnings: Language, suggestive themes, lil bit spicy!! Not smut but like I’m easing into it. Mentions of injury.

Word count: about 1.9k :)

A/N: idek what this is man I am just h word on main for angry blonde firecracker man

**Character is aged up to at least 20**

You've about had it with this man. This absolute stubborn child of a man. If his bottom lip weren't already split, right now you'd be very highly considering doing it yourself.

You both were crowded into your small bathroom in your apartment, first aid supplies strewn across what little counter space you had, a few knocked onto the tile floor. You'd learned very early on in your relationship that keeping a first aid kit on deck was essential to dating Katsuki Bakugou. If only the bastard would sit still so you could actually use it.

It was a feat in and of itself that you managed to get him in here for the first aid in the first place. It was like luring a cat into the bathroom right before a bath. He knew what was coming... and it took bribery of course. But he was here, hips leaning against the edge of the sink, arms crossed over his bare chest as he faces you. You were standing in front of him (conveniently between him and the door), antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, desperately trying to clean the cuts that littered his skin.

"Katsuki, come on! Quit moving around!" You say sternly, trying once again to dab the cloth over the wide gash that reached from his collarbone to his shoulder. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but it looked pretty gnarly. And you'd be damned if you didn't at least disinfect it.

"I told you, I don't need first aid! I'm not even hurt." He retorts, indignantly avoiding every move you make towards him. Finally you throw down the bandage with a loud groan.

"We do this every time! How many times do I have to tell you? If you don't clean them they could get infected!" You demand, hands on your hips.

"Tch. As if I'd ever let something like that happen to me." He was operating with one singular braincell, you were sure of it. And the braincell was sitting in the 'stubborn asshole' part of Katsuki's brain.

"You- it's not... Jesus christ. It's not something you let happen! It'll only take a minute to clean them up, I promise."

He doesn't seem the least bit convinced, brows drawn together in such a deep scowl. It was exactly the sort of face a mother would scold you for, saying it'd get stuck that way.

Sometimes for him, you really thought it did.

"You said it'd take just a minute last time. And it absolutely fuckin' did not." He gripes and you throw your hands up in exasperation. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Because you kept moving!" He rolls his eyes and stands up from the counter, pushing past you gently to go towards the door.

"Whatever. I don't need first aid." He growls out. Your hands ball into fists and your face sets into a hard expression. You'd had enough... no more good cop.

Before he turns the door handle you say just one more thing- and it stops him dead in his tracks.

"Bakugou Katsuki, if you don't come over here and sit your ass down so I can treat your wounds, so help me god I won't fuck you for a month."

He freezes, hand still holding the doorknob. He turns slowly to look at you over his shoulder, expecting to find any sort of lie, a trace of a fracturing exterior so he knew you didn't mean it. Instead, all he was met with was a stone cold glare.

He scoffs. "You're bluffing." He tries, and your arms cross over your chest.

"Try me. Go ahead, leave the bathroom. Get used to fucking your hand, it'll be the only action you see."

He was tempted of course to just leave. The odds of you bluffing were pretty high... he wasn't stupid, he knew it was just as much of a punishment for you as it would be for him. But the look in your eyes– it was threatening. Kind of hot, but he'd keep that to himself. The threat of an agonizing dry spell was too risky for him to point that out.

"Fuck. Fine..." he relents. And he takes his hand slowly off the doorknob.

You smirk triumphantly as he trudged slowly back into the bathroom, scowl still set into his face with no signs of leaving any time soon. You take a few steps back, however many the right space would allow so you could direct him. As much as he despised it, your threat had him wrapped around your little finger. More than usual.

You jut out your chin once towards the toilet, which had the lid closed. "Sit, asshole. Lemme fix you up." You say, tone firm but just a little soft around the edges as he finally starts to do as you say.

He plops himself down on the seat with a grumble under his breath, something along the lines of 'this is cruel and unusual punishment, but he sits nonetheless. And he was almost pouting with that expression on his face. It was cute... even if he was acting like an child. You decide to make the ordeal a little sweeter for the man, even if he was being unruly. With antiseptic in one hand and a bandage in the other, you give a soft push to his chest so he'd sit back and make space for you.

It was a cramped sort of space, not super ideal for his comfort or yours. But he always had space for you. He cocks a brow curiously as you move him, but says nothing when he realizes you're going to take a seat. How could he say no? Even he'd admit, he liked having you so close. Even if you're tending to injuries that really weren't that bad.

You straddle his thighs as settle in on his lap, shifting just a little to get comfortable. His hands immediately find your hips, keeping you nice and close. Once he seemed contented enough, you get to work cleaning him up.

It's quiet in the bathroom as you tend to the wounds, the only sounds being that of your first aid ministrations and your mingled breathing. He watches you intently, taking in every little mannerism and facial expression, hands tracing absentminded circles into your hips. His fingertips were barely beneath the hem of your shirt, seeking out the warmth of your bare skin to keep him entertained while you treat his minor injuries.

Finally once most of the scratches and such were taken care of, you turn to the cut on his lip, eyes meeting that intense vermillion gaze. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but you knew it was much more than that.

Katsuki wasn't really a man of words. He didn't express his undying love every five minutes, and you didn't expect him to. Instead he showed it in actions, in unspoken words found shining in his eyes. In a small quirk of his lips when you laugh, or an affectionate eye roll when you do something dumb. Showed it in the way he kissed you. In the way he'd lay you down and give it to you nice and good, just the way you liked.

You lightly dab at the wound on his lip, being careful not to hurt him since it was still pretty fresh. He doesn't seem even slightly fazed.

"Gotta be more careful, and lemme do this for you. Can't have you getting more hurt because you're bein' stubborn." You mumble, averting your eyes from that deep stare to eye the plush of his split bottom lip while you cleaned him up. If you made eye contact any longer, he'd have the satisfaction of making you blush.

He grunts softly, pulling you a little closer on his lap. "I was gonna let you." He mumbles, and it makes you roll your eyes. And his lips quirk up just a bit.

"You were not. You were gonna walk right out that door if I didn't threaten to take away sex." You mumble, and one of his hands starts to trace up your spine, effectively arching you against his chest.

"Maybe. But if I hadn't, you wouldn't be on my lap, would you?" He snarks, but his voice is all soft. You put your first aid supplies down on the counter and turn your eyes back to his once again, and he was grinning. He almost looked smug.

"Ah, shut up. Didn't have to sit here. Did it for you." He snorts in response, strong arms wrapping firmly around your waist.

"Sure you were." He was sarcastic, but his tone was still fond. "You like bein' this close just as much as I do, ass." You wrinkle your nose at him and push at his chest in retaliation, but it only makes him draw you in closer.

"You're the ass. Wouldn't sit still, wouldn't shut up till I said I wouldn't fuck you. Think with your dick, huh?" You tease, and his lips raise in a half playful snarl. Large palms slide over your hips to grab handfuls of your ass, keeping you right up against him.

"Shut the fuck up. You like when I think with my dick. Gets you all hot for me." He mumbles, lips barely brushing yours when he leans in close. You could feel the heat in your cheeks at the comment, spreading to the tips of your ears. He always did know just what to say to get you wrapped around his finger.

"What," he continues, dragging your hips forward against his own and you choke back a gasp. "Suddenly you're all quiet? Bet t's'cause I'm right. But I dunno, maybe I'm just thinking with my dick." You have to struggle not to whine as his hands guide you back and forth across his lap, and by god the friction was going to kill you. Your hands clutch to hard muscled shoulders, aching to gain back some semblance of self control.

But it was hard to keep sane around Katsuki. Damn near impossible.

"Fuck... you..." you breathe, trying to give him a glare but it comes off a little more wanton than you intended. His teeth graze your bottom lip, biting it gently and tugging outward before letting it back into place. His hips cant upwards, rolling into yours as he keeps you rooted firmly in place, and it tears a moan from your lips.

"Yeah? You wanna?" His voice has dipped down dangerously low in his throat, rumbling through his chest and sleeping into your bones. Between the movement of his hips and his mouthing along your jaw you felt as if you were going to combust.

"You're gonna be the death of me..." You can feel that damn shit eating grin against your jaw, and when your eyes meet deep vermillion you know you're a goner. He had you, hook line and sinker.

"Complain all you want, but you're whipped for me," he mumbles, one hand leaving the plush of your ass to cup the back of your neck, dragging you into a kind of kiss that made your toes curl, your knees shake. Hot and heavy, tongue and teeth.

Yeah, you were pretty whipped for Katsuki Bakugou... but he was just as whipped for you.

[raisingsupergirl]

God Loves Beer

"I know some conservative Christians who think it's a sin to have even a taste of beer," I told my mom last week. Her response? "I know. I used to be one of those Christians." To be fair, she had a good reason. My dad struggled with alcohol throughout their marriage. But her view has changed in recent years, which is a good thing since alcohol is a pretty big part of my life. Really big, actually. Especially since brewing became my #quarantinehobby. Beer, wine, mead. The process of home brewing fascinates me and really scratches my creative itch. I love the nuances of different flavors, and there's seldom a meal that I don't pair with some form of alcohol. So, yeah, it'd be a problem if my mom believed I was "living in sin." But the thing is, there are plenty of people who think I AM. And there are a plethora of other lifestyles that plenty of people believe fall into this "living in sin" category, as well.

Ironically, I believe passing judgment on others is often a sin. I've watched friends condemn individuals and entire populations for things that are central to who they are, and those condemnations lead to some of the worst atrocities on the planet. If "sin" can be defined as "setting something up as more important than God," then I know plenty of Christians (and non-Christians) who live in the sin of judging others. Of course, these situations are rarely that simple. The Bible instructs us to rebuke our brothers and sisters in Christ (church language for setting other Christians straight when we see them going down the wrong road), but I haven't met a Christian yet who fully knows the heart and mind of God. Sure, we have an instruction manual, a book that chronicles the history of rules, instructions, advice, and mistakes of Christianity from before Christ was even born. But it's a big book. And it was written a long time ago, in foreign cultures, and in a lot of different languages. Yes, every one of those words were God inspired, but the problem isn't with the words. It's with the people who read them.

"Studies show that there's no difference between wearing a mask and not wearing one." "Polls show that police brutality is at an all-time high." "There's no proof that banning guns would lower crime rates." "Michael Jordan's stats prove that he was the best basketball player of all time." I took a class in college that taught me how to interpret research articles (yes, just ONE class), and the main thing I took away from it was that bias is the bane of truth. Bias from researchers, those funding the research, and those reading the research—it happens at all levels, and it basically allows us to hear whatever we want to because there are SO MANY nuances to trying to separate objective facts from subjective belief. We try to wrangle them, try to pin them down and separate them out, but the universe is a big place, and NO ONE is capable of processing all of it clearly. No one except God, of course. And since, as I said, none of us has the Big Man's cell phone number (not that we would listen even if we did since), we're left to interpret pretty much everything with at least a little of our own bias. Where we grew up, what our genetic makeup is, what our parents believed, etc., etc. Like my mom's condemnation of alcohol because of the very real pain it caused her marriage, bias influences every thought we have.

I grew up in a Christian household in rural Missouri. So, I'm a Christian. Yes, it was a choice. Yes, I've spent decades reading, listening, contemplating, and trying to "prove" my beliefs, but if I'd grown up as a Muslim in the heart of Pakistan, I'd probably be Muslim. And I'd probably be one of those individuals who believes taking a sip of alcohol is a damnable offense. Thankfully, I didn't. Otherwise, I never would have experienced the joy of my first home brewed Belgian quad beer. I'd never have felt the complexities of its sweet maltiness as it flowed over my tongue. I'd never have enjoyed the thrill of accomplishment at not blowing up my basement as I figured out how to keg that beer. I'd never have delighted in the freedom of "knowing" what I did came from my God-given creativity—a creativity that I believe reflects the Great Creator's heart in a pure and intimate way.

As I said, nothing is ever simple. I'm not suggesting that we should live a hedonistic "everything goes" lifestyle. We DO need to make choices. We DO need to draw lines and strive to keep others from cheapening Gods grace. But we shouldn't do those things the easy way. If you believe I'm sinning by drinking alcohol, you should figure out WHY you believe that. Not because you read a single sentence out of the Bible and used it (perhaps out of context) to justify your own personal beliefs (which came from countless sources OTHER than God). In short, be intentional. Be discerning. Be patient and kind. Live by the GREATEST commandment to love God first. Love others as yourselves. And take the time to filter all of your other beliefs through that lens. Use the Bible as a guide, not a weapon. And maybe chill out and have a frosty home brew once in a while. I know where you can find some.

[himbowelsh]

Oh my lord, I went through your shiftab tag and read the secret admirer oneshot, it was so cute! 😭 I know you aren't taking requests for those particular prompts but if possible, could you write a similar 'secret admirer' storyline for winnix or baberoe? Gosh please I'd die of happiness!

i have...  done the thing.  went with baberoe, because honestly i’m never not craving more content between those two, and there are considerably more ghosts than you probably wanted, but i really hope you enjoy, darling!!!

(read here on ao3)

Every one of his better instincts — and, contrary to popular belief, Babe does have a few — is screaming that this is an awful idea.

Quit your Irish dancing around the problem and fuckin’ do it, Bill would say, if only Bill were here. Babe knows exactly what advice Bill Guarnere would give — he can hear it in Bill’s voice, like the man’s shouting it, an entire ocean away. Still, an imagined echo is no substitute for the real thing. Babe can dream up as many Guarnere platitudes as his brain can handle... but they still won’t solve the problem in front of him now.

Namely, a blank piece of paper.

“God dammit,” he says out loud. “I don’t know how to do this.”

There’s no one around to hear him. More and more nowadays, there isn’t. He never used to talk to himself before — that was always something crazy people did, in Babe’s experience, and he could be called a lot of things, but crazy was never one of ‘em. People like Crazy Joe McKloskey could stand on the street corner talking to a lamppost like it could understand him. That’s fine, because it was crazy Joe. Babe Heffron, who delivered papers and chased his brothers through the backstreets of South Philly, never talked to himself... maybe because he was never alone.

To be fair, he’s at war, and it’s tough to be alone in a company of a hundred other guys. He’s gotten good at it, though. Gene was the one who showed him how to seek out peace when he needed it, taught him all the good places to hide, how to go away somewhere in your head the rest of the world couldn’t reach. He’d never needed those skills before, but now that he’s learned them, they’ve proved invaluable. More and more nowadays, with nothing to do but soak in the Austrian summer, Babe finds himself wanting to be alone.

Yeah, sometimes he talks to himself... only because the people he wants to be around, the people who damn well should be here, aren’t. 

You’re overthinking it, the voice in his head that sounds too much like Julian declares. When Babe looks up, he can almost see him — his old buddy, leaning back on a crate on the other side of the musky garret room. Julian has a way of lounging that was so casual it made him look boneless. He was a spreader, too — how many damn times did Babe have to shove him to the other side of the foxhole because Julian’s knee was digging into one of his damn organs? The kid liked to take up space. His ghost absorbs it now, studying Babe with a sort of mocking smirk. Look. Practically tearing your hair out, and you’ve barely even written a word yet.

“Yeah, well, it’s harder than you’d think.”

Babe’s not a letter writer. He never has been. His wrists cramp up when he holds a pen too long, and he can’t find the words anyways. His kid sister writes long letters, filled with funny anecdotes and memories from home; his Ma’s letters are shorter, succinct, and bluntly affectionate. Even Bill sent a message, after agonizing months of silence, letting the whole company know he’s doing alright, back home in the states. Babe treasures every letter he receives, tucking them away in his trunk between his underwear and his Bible... but the entire war, he’s only written his family three times. So far, he can’t bring himself to write to Bill at all.

Yeah, because you’re a lazy bum. There’s Old Guarnere again. He’s standing next to Julian — on both legs, whole and healthy — arms crossed as he blatantly judges Babe’s writing ability. The ceiling’s so low, on a steady downward slope, that Bill’s head hits it every time he moves. Babe can see the disgruntled faces he makes, clear as day, and it draws a laugh from him in spite of himself.

“I just — it can’t be any old letter, okay? It’s gotta be perfect. I need it to be perfect.”

You need to take a nap and quit pretending you’re a better writer than you are, Bill scoffs. When has anything you’ve ever written been perfect?

Babe presses his palm hard against his forehead, fingers tugging at his uncombed mess of hair. “That’s the problem, dammit. It ain’t gonna be perfect... but it’s what he deserves.”

If this goddamn war has taught him anything, it’s that Eugene Roe deserves nothing less than the best. The war sure hasn’t been shy about giving him the worst, over and over again. Gene’s hands have been stained with so much blood that it’s a wonder he can still look at them — can still go about his life as normal, humoring nervous patients and summoning a smile when the other fellas rib him — when he’s dealt with more shit than any of them. Babe just heard about his best friend getting his leg blown off. Gene was the one on his knees in the snow, scrambling to save Bill’s life. Yet when Babe retreated into himself afterwards, grief-stricken and reeling, Gene was the one who anchored him to earth. His quiet conversation and soft smiles put Babe back together, piece by piece at a time. He’s got a gift for healing, in ways he doesn’t even realize. A guy like that... deserves every good thing in the world, and Babe wants to hand them all to him.

As it is, he can’t even write one lousy letter.

“He’s gonna hate it. He’s gonna... throw it right back in my face, cause he realizes he’s talking to a guy who can’t spell ‘adoration’. He’s gonna... he’s gonna...”

Laugh. Except that’s not like Gene at all. Be goddamn disgusted... except Babe knows Gene well enough by now to know that’s not like him either. It’s hard to tell with other guys, especially in the army, where shared foxholes can so easily blur the lines between friend and lover... but he’s seen a gleam in Gene’s eyes when other fellas talk about Rita Hayworth and Betty Grable, like he’s just humoring the conversation while wishing it’d go somewhere else. Babe knows the feeling. No, Gene could do anything, but he wouldn’t be disgusted that a guy loves him.

Maybe... just that it’s Babe.

Now you’re really being an idiot, Julian moans, tipping his head back towards the sky. Babe’s first instinct is to throw something at him — the hand holding his pencil twitches, but he’s only got one, and there’s no satisfaction in swinging at ghosts.

 “I don’t know what to say,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his jaw again. Dear Gene, the letter reads. I’m writing because I need to tell you...

That’s as far as he’s got. Not even a full goddamn sentence.

Have you considered... you’re overthinking it? You’ve gotta actually write something before deciding you hate what you’ve written.

“Julian, you’re a regular goddamn philosophizer.”

I’m just saying! 

Suddenly, Julian is no longer on the other side of the room. He’s looming right over Babe’s shoulder, his presence like a weight bearing down on Babe’s back. Every twitch of his hand is being observed, every uncertain breath noted. Geez, he didn’t crack during jump school training, but this pressure is enough to split him in two.

“Forget it!” Babe exclaims, throwing the pencil down onto the paper. “This was a stupid idea, I give up!”

No, you fucking are not.

There’s Bill again — Bill Guarnere, and his unbeatable determination to butt his head into everyone else’s business. Babe lifts his head, glaring into the spot he imagines his best friend standing. Bill’s answering glare is an echo of the real thing… and Christ, what Babe wouldn't do to see that familiar scowl right in front of him, for real! Bill always made things simple. There was no overthinking when he was around. When Babe was being an idiot, Bill told him.

I’m telling you right now, jackass — you're being an idiot.

“And you’re winning motivational speaker of the goddamn year.”

I’m not trying to win anything here. You are, and doing a piss-poor job of it. I could cry just lookin’ at you. Look at this — ‘I’m writing because’? What kinda opening line is that? Did they not teach you how to write letters in grade school, or were them nuns too busy beating the ginger outta your hair?

“Trying their best,” Babe mutters, subconsciously rubbing the back of his head, where the phantom rap of a nun’s knuckles still stings. Today’s a day for phantoms, he guesses. While Julian cackles begins him, Bill’s specter crosses to the desk, hovering over Babe’s paper with a critical eye.

No, he finally declares, like he’s handing Babe’s bayonet back with instructions to polish it all over again. That’s it. You can’t do this.

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Babe exclaims, grateful to hear his subconscious finally agreeing.

You ain’t gonna be able to do this… Bill turns, then reels back around, sticking a finger in Babe’s face. So long as you keep thinking ‘bout what he’s gonna do when you hand it to him. What he’s gonna say once he reads it. You gotta write something before he can read it, you realize that, Babe? And you haven’t written a goddamn word worth reading so far. 

Babe assumes there’s a point here somewhere. He curls his fingers around the edge of the letter, waiting for it.

So, if you can’t get outta your own head… then write it as somebody else.

Bill grins, broad and shameless, like he always does when he ain’t making a lick of sense.

“You lost me,” Babe says. “Way back there.”

Keep the letter anonymous, Babe! Bill’s imagined face twists in frustration, his hand coming down to tap the paper. The silent impact rings in Babe’s ears. Don’t sign the thing. Leave it somewhere Doc will find it, and see what he does.

“That defeats the whole purpose of telling him how I feel!” Babe exclaims.

And how much luck are you having with that? demands Julian, coming to stand at Bill’s side. The two of them cross their arms, staring down at Babe with unabashed judgement. Burdened by the weird feeling that he’s being bullied by his own subconscious, he picks up his pencil again. What would Gene’s reaction be to finding a love letter unsigned? Babe imagines him pulling it out from under his pillow, or finding an envelope with his name on it at his makeshift aid station in the basement of Easy’s billets. How his long fingers would unfurl the paper, his lips mouthing the words silently as he read along… how his brows would furrow slowly, disbelief and awe swirling in the dark pools of his eyes… how eventually he’d look up, see Babe standing there waiting on him, and murmur, “Heffron, you’re not gonna believe this…”

And then what? Babe would pull Gene into his arms, and admit he’s loved him all along?

No. No way, not him. Not in this lifetime, at least.

Overthinking, Julian’s voice chimes again, and Babe’s never felt more tempted to swing at a ghost. Will you just write it already?

“Fine, goddammit!” Babe hisses. It’s frustration, really, that gets him to whip out a fresh sheet of paper… and as soon as he starts to write, the words flow from his pen like a dam’s burst open.

See you every day… know your heart… your caring… your sense of humor... impossible not to love you… wouldn’t know how to stop if I tried… love you more than I know what to do with.

I love you.

I’m in love with you, Eugene Roe.

Whatever you want is up to you… but I wrote this letter because I need to let you know.

He doesn’t sign it.

The envelope seals like a promise fulfilled; and when Babe looks up, he’s in the tiny attic alone.

------------------------------------------

It’s just his luck that Gene doesn’t spot the letter until Babe’s standing right next to him, alone in the cozy little infirmary.

Gene doesn’t miss a beat. “Hey,” he says, picking the letter up. “Babe, what’s this?”

There’s nothing on it, is the thing! No way to tell where it came from, and he knows Gene isn’t familiar enough with his handwriting to pick it out of a lineup. Babe stumbles back a step, alarm spiking as Gene holds the letter up. Playing dumb’s his only chance.

“Uhh… looks like a letter, maybe?”

Okay, not that dumb.

“Maybe,” echoes Gene, thoughtful, as he turns the envelope over in his hands. When his gaze is no longer piercing him, Babe can breathe again.

“Where’d you find it?”

“Someone left it on the chair. I sat on it.”

“Wow.” Wow, Babe. Just… wow. “You know, uhh, Vest made his rounds a little while ago, maybe something slipped from his pile. Or maybe he’s playing a joke, huh, you know that Vest —“

Why the hell is he implying Vest wrote his love letter?

“Doubt it was Vest,” Gene mutters, fingernail playing underneath the envelope’s fold as he carefully opens it. He even pries open mail like a doctor, slow and precise. Something in Babe’s heart soars at this tiny detail, and he almost wants to go to his knees in front of Gene right there.

“Well, it had to be someone,” he says instead, taking another few steps back. When he chuckles, it sounds shrill to his ears — like he’s fighting off the urge to scream. God dammit, Heffron, you’ve got all the subtlety of a rock, why’d you think this was a good idea?

It’s not. This is a horrible idea. He can’t look Gene in the face while he’s reading the letter, and if Babe stays here one more minute, he’s gonna give himself away. “Sorry, Gene, but I gotta go now — told Liebgott I’d help him with, uhh, this thing that he — needed help with, and… so yeah, I gotta do that.”

Gene looks up at him, distracted from the letter. Babe manages a grimace, and a tiny wave. “See ya!”

He can’t get out of the basement fast enough. Behind him is only silence, as Gene Roe begins to read.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Gene finds him much later that night, after the sun has already set over Zell-Am-See, painting the town in violet and blue. The late summer sky has always spoken to Babe in a way he can never explain, like a fist locking inside his chest and trying to tug his heart out. It’s nostalgia for a place far away, and a time he can’t return to. As daylight slowly fades out into inky darkness, Babe watches the sky, lost in a time when everything was simpler.

He doesn’t hear Gene coming until he drops onto the window ledge beside him. Babe isn’t jumpy, and Gene’s never startled him yet, so he doesn’t tumble over to the street below in shock… but the look on Gene’s face almost sends him jumping the fifteen feet down.

“Hey, Gene,” he says instead, quickly looking back out at the horizon.

“Hey.” Gene lets the word linger. He fumbles with a cigarette, long fingers moving deftly as he maneuvers his lighter. He gets it lit, and holds it out generously. Babe’s nerves would like nothing more, but his balance can’t take holding onto this will with just one hand. He shakes his head. With a shrug, Gene tucks the cigarette between his own pursed lips.

“You close up shop for the night?”

“Yeah. Unless someone stumbles around drunk and ends up knocking their head… or gets hit with a dart again. Had to pull it outta Perconte’s shoulder the last time.”

“Think I heard that from upstairs. Screaming like a cat the whole time, huh?”

“The man’s been shot before, and he complained less.” Gene exhales through his nose, blowing two long lines of smoke into the air. Babe’s eyes linger on it, transfixed.

“You, uhh —“ Suddenly, he’s frightened of silence, but his mind’s too scattered to keep a conversation in one place. “You get dinner?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

Quiet again. Christ, even when he was a kid, Babe could never stand the quiet; his Ma sometimes pushed him out of the house and locked the door behind him, just to get some peace. Why is it so hard to find words now?

“Look, Heffron —“ Gene starts, and the exact moment Babe blurts out, “Gene —“

They both go silent, staring at each other. Babe inhales, holding the breath in his chest until he feels like he’s gonna burst with it.

A familiar voice in his head — the one that’s a dead-ringer for Bill Guarnere — groans, Will you please spit it the hell out already?

“So,” Babe says, “the letter.”

“Yeah,” says Gene. His gaze doesn’t leave Babe’s, sharp as a needle.

“Look, I wanted to —“

“I know,” says Gene.

“I wanted to say —“

“Babe,” Gene cuts in. “I know.”

Finally, Babe meets his gaze head-on. It’s never possible to read what’s going on in Gene’s head, but his face gives something away, sometimes. The way the corners of his lips twitch when he’s trying not to laugh; the line that appears between his eyebrows when he’s really worried; the way his eyes go soft when he knows someone needs comforting, and turn to hot coals when he’s furious.

Right now, Babe can’t pick a damn thing out of Gene’s expression… but his eyes are very, very soft. It feels like a punch to the stomach.

“You know,” he says slowly, “but…”

The words linger between them for a long, charged moment. Babe’s chest feels like it’s caught in a compactor, being slowly squeezed until his lungs burst and his ribs turn to dust. He huffs out a laugh — a dry, desperate thing. “Jesus, Gene, you look like you’re about to break my heart.” Gene still doesn’t say a word; Babe looks up at him, wide-eyed. “Why’s it you doctors just love to drag things out? Rip off the band-aid quick, and save us both the trouble.”

“Edward,” he says gently, laying a hand over Babe’s own. Babe jerks away like he’s been stung.

“Don’t Edward me right now!”

“Babe,” Gene says, and his voice is softer than ever. Babe’s throat is tight, eyes stinging… but damned if he’ll let himself cry over this, not where Gene can see. Christ, he’s an idiot. He’s so stupid, he should never have done anything, why did he even think —

“I have known... for a while, now. Didn’t need a letter to tell me some things.” Gene pauses, like he’s chewing over the words, before adding, “But it was good to read. Just to know.”

“Now you know,” Babe replies, and inhales a deep breath. “You happy now?”

Gene doesn’t answer. When Babe risks a glance over, Gene isn’t looking at him at all anymore; his eyes are on the sky, watching as the first pinpricks of starlight pierce through the indigo curtain. He looks thoughtful, almost mournful. It gouges something in Babe’s chest.

“Gene,” he says again. “Are you happy?”

“I don’t know.” When Gene inhales, it’s almost like a whisper. When he exhales, it’s like he’s singing to the night air. “Thought about it for a long time. Trying to figure out how I feel.”

“You’ve had a whole afternoon to do it. You get it all sorted out yet?”

“Longer than that,” Gene replies. His gaze flickers over to him. “I told you, Babe. I knew.”

Jesus. So he wasn’t as subtle as he thought. Babe exhales, praying to make the sick-to-his-stomach sensation go with it. Instead, it just churns even harder. If this goes on any longer, he’s gonna need a damn bucket.

Gene’s never been the best with words; expressing himself has never been easy, which is why Babe’s gotten so good at reading between the lines. Gene’s really trying now — for his sake, Babe supposes. “Reading that letter, seeing all those feelings laid out on paper… Babe, you didn’t have to sign it. I’d ‘a known it was you, just from what you said. It was like… listening to your heart. And a part of me already does that every day, so I guess it was easy.”

Can Gene hear his heart screaming now? Babe grips the windowsill until his knuckles turn white, grounding himself. 

“I wasn’t sure how you felt before… and I wasn’t sure how I felt for you. Knew you felt something, but not what, and not how…” Gene swallows, pale throat bobbing. “But now I know.”

“Now you know.” Babe dwells on this statement for a moment before turning, hesitation heavy on his tongue. “So… what now, Gene?”

Gene takes a deep breath, clinging to the night sky for one last moment, before turning his gaze on him. “Do you— “ He pauses, licks his lips. “Do you really mean what you wrote? All of it?”

“Gene,” Babe replies, “I meant every word.”

Something calms in Gene’s eyes, like a storm settling. Babe isn’t expecting the way his gaze clears, or the flash of steely certainty that follows. “Well,” Gene says, “there’s only one thing to do.”

Another thing Babe isn’t expecting — how sweet Gene tastes when his lips are suddenly pressed to his own.

Somewhere far away, beyond the depths of his own consciousness — which is really just a victory parade and firework show, that’s all he’s capable of at the moment — he thinks Bill would be proud of him. Beyond the grave, Julian’s probably cheering for him, glad his buddy’s finally getting some.

For once, though, their voices are drowned out completely. It’s impossible to hear anything over the storm raging in his ears, which only swells to a fever pitch when Gene leans back and smiles at him.

“Well, Babe,” he says, as Babe cups his face like a reverent thing. “Think we can figure things out from here.”

“Jesus, Gene,” Babe declares, and swoops in to kiss him again.

[makiema]

Possibility of an Eren vs the Devil final showdown

Okay so I saw @marley-warriors-of-demon-blood's post and I pondered over it for a few days. I finally had the time to write it all down. What I have to say draws a lot from the original post. I'd just like to mention some more hints that I picked up while doing my research along these lines.

First off, I'll elaborate on the recurring mentions of "devil" we get throughout the anime and the manga (also talk a bit about Paths) and secondly, on Isayama's subtle inclusions of numerous other Judeo-Christian references. All of it directly hints at a dramatic ending that may involve Eren, the protagonist, and the main antagonist- the Devil.

1. The Devil : We have had an eerie account of direct or indirect references to the Devil.

• One of the earliest comes from Bertholdt in Season 2 Ep 36 when we first hear him addressing Eldians as "spawns of the Devil"

• The next time we literally get to see the Devil is in Season 3 Ep 43 when Historia revisits her past and the book she reads show us the picture of the Devil and we also see Ymir Fritz for the very first time.

She's present in the story under the alias of Christa, who Freida points out to be a kind girl, always thinking about others.

However, this unsuspecting nature also makes her dangerously gullible and thus, the Devil tricks her into consuming the fruit which'd vest her with incredible powers that could be used to do some potential good work but also wreak havoc on Earth. The illustration was already a foreshadowing of the immediate future event whereby Rod Reiss would try to beguile Historia and get her to eat Eren but she'd see through the ploy and stand up against him. But, that's a different topic and I don't want to digress from my primary point. However this illustration carried an even darker foreboding as we'd realize in the course of the manga.

• The next implication comes from Floch, quite shockingly, during the Serum bowl, also in Season 3. We find him referring to Erwin as the "devil" out of nowhere, that too twice.

It was horrifying yes, but could it be a darker message for events yet to unfold? Surely Isayama wouldn't drag in the word "devil" out of nowhere. Also, another thing I want to point out here is Levi's decision of finally using the serum on Armin. No, not the usual why (because by now it's clear that he wanted Erwin to rest) but whether or not this action of his, that earned him hard opprobrium from almost half the fandom, had some underlying meaning for us. Maybe more than the shock factor, the serum bowl was allegorical of future events- that the Devil, like Erwin here, is not dead yet and has been playing the strings since eons ago; that the character who is following in Levi's footsteps, i.e., Eren will have to make a difficult choice (which is why Isayama had been stressing on how he'll hurt the fans in the conclusion) and bring an end to the Devil who is still at large. Choosing Armin over Erwin seems to be an absurd decision from a logical pov and Levi's action maybe more than just "letting him rest". Isayama loves foreshadowing. Killing off such an important character could very well be an indication of something more than what's visible on the surface. Perhaps, it was symbolical of how, in the near future, the actual devil, who shares the same caliber as the Commander in plotting, will be forced to rest by Eren, who was trained by Levi to make difficult choices by himself.

• After this , Eren Kruger mentions how "anyone can be the God or the 'Devil' " in Episode 58, while also explaining how everything is connected by PATHS.

• The final and the clearest reference to the Devil is found in Wily Tybur's speech where he informs us of his devilry and we also come across Ymir Fritz, the girl who fell into his trap, and apparently consumed "the source of all organic matter".

There couldn't have been a more prominent Biblical allusion than this one. Now, endowed with such power, Ymir Fritz sets off with beneficial work but, as per the Curse of Ymir, she dies in a few years and we learn that her power is eventually divided into Nine Titans.

• The Devil and PATHS : Only, in chapter 115, do we realize that she hasn't died or at least her spirit hasn't (I'll elaborate on this later). She's STILL very much functional in PATHS - this another universe or another place (whatever term you deem fit for it). When I say functional, I mean how she has to tend to and help her subjects respawn as per the contract with the Devil.

However, notice the rather dark shading on her face? Those are similar to Isayama's signature stress lines that indicate Ymir Fritz is in pain or at least, she doesn't look like she's willingly up for kneading soil to help her subjects reincarnate. Now, if Ymir Fritz from Tybur's tale is still active, how can we rule out the possibility that the devil is active too? PATHS connects the future and the past. Eren Kruger can send words of advice to the future via PATHS, every shifter who's endowed with powers of the past has access to PATHS. In short, PATHS could be the place of any probability. PATHS is the place that warps time, history and even reality. If Ymir Fritz has indeed digested 'the source of all organic matter on Earth', then PATHS, where Ymir Fritz is struck, could be what supports this source or more clearly, it is what nourishes the root of the Titan Power. We know that Ymir Fritz obtained the source from the Devil and now, if PATHS is like nourishment to the source and is sort of a massive energy center (where even the concept of time is lost) it might very well be the Devil's residence or the physical manifestation of the Devil's will. The Devil, as part of a greater ploy, intended to do away with mankind and wreak havoc and that's why duped Ymir Fritz, a naive young girl, into consuming something that'd bind her and her progenitors to his evil will forever by genetic alterations, making it susceptible to his wilful morphing. With this, the main plot that revolves around slavery can finally reach an end. And breaking that tie to the Titan DNA, by destroying the Devil or PATHS (which helps the Devil to enslave Eldians/Subjects of Ymir no matter the era) could resolve the main issue and pave the way to freedom. If Eren does that, it'd be poetic given that Eren Kruger said that the Attack Titan and it's owner has always chased freedom. It's only fair that the Attack Titan (the embodiment of freedom) destroys PATHS (the embodiment that allows slavery). It all sets out beautifully and maybe this is the reason why Isayama even ensured that we get to see PATHS animated as early as in Season 2 Ep 10. Thus, we get a sneak peek of it in Ymir's memory.

It just gives more corroboration to my hunch that PATHS is THAT important and can possibly be the abode of the Devil and hence, be crucial in the endgame. Also, isn't it ironic how Ymir says "I saw freedom spread out before me" in this scene? Or could Isayama be hinting at a possible conclusion that Eren would finally achieve freedom once he is also in PATHS dimension and destroys it? That this scene would be included so early in the anime but not carry some deeper meaning just doesn't settle well.

2. Other Judeo-Christian references : The manga is brimming with those but I'd just point out to a few as some interpretations may seem too far off and I have the habit of snowballing every minute detail.

• Violets : These flowers keep popping up time and again and is even there in the very beginning of the show. Eren wakes up crying from his 'dream-vision' and we find those violets right beside him.

We again see these flowers very briefly under Armin when Eren consciously transforms for the very time in Season 1 Episode 10. This was not in the manga but Isayama wanted this to be animated. He wouldn't have stressed on the importance of including the violets if he didn't have a motif.

Violets have strong religious connotations in Christianity. They blossomed when Gabriel told Mary of her son's impending birth. Now, Gabriel is the Angel who communicates with humankind and thus stems the potential meaning associated with violets - connections. The symbolism is a very important one as it could be a allegory to how PATHS connects the future to the present, connects all the Subjects Of Ymir. Isayama even canonically included the violets in PATHS dimension in Chapter 115, when Zeke meets Ymir Fritz.

Isayama's emphasis to add violets in the anime and also later, to draw them in PATHS couldn't be for naught. The flowers and what they stand for must be crucial in the final resolution. Also, just as violets blossomed when the birth of the Saviour was prophesized, here in the the SnK universe, violets pop up when Eren is in the frame in the very beginning and when he first reveals his power, indicating he'd be the eventual saviour. If Eren is an allusion to Christ it also justifies what Isayama said : that he wants to 'hurt' the readers. We all know about Christ's sacrifice and perhaps Eren is also going to do something similar which will leave the readers hurting.

• Allusions to literary classics : There are a lot of allusions to Dante's Inferno and even to Milton's Paradise Lost, both of which borrow heavily from mythology and the Bible. But, I'd discuss the ones that I found the most suggestive-

1. Nine : The power of the Devil that Ymir Fritz inherited was split into Nine Titans. In Inferno, we get the Nine Circles of Hell that will eventually lead the poet to Satan. And like we have discussed before, the Devil has striking semblances to Satan. Satan lies below the Nine Circles of Hell and the Nine Titan Powers combined is equivalent to the power the Devil possessed. Uncanny similarity, eh?

2. Ymir and Virgil : Like @marley-warriors-of-demon-blood mentioned, Ymir Fritz is currently caught in a Limbo. She was just a naive little girl and hence, what ensued from her making a deal with the devil wasn't technically her fault. In Inferno, Virgil is distraught similarly- fated to remain trapped in Limbo forever. Now, like I said earlier, PATHS is connected to everything. And Limbo, the first circle of Hell, is also connected to the later circles. I hypothesized in a previous post how I think Ymir Fritz and Eren will meet next in the manga. (with Eren being decapitated and everything) Virgil was the one that guided Dante in his journey in Inferno and Ymir Fritz, currently just a lost spirit in another dimension, may become Eren's guide. She can advise the holder of the two most powerful Titans (the Attack and the Founding) on ways to resolve Eldia's problem by killing it's source, i.e., the Devil, considering she's really a girl with good intentions. This would also resolve her character arc properly. She'd get a stance in the story and not just be someone who was used by the Devil for his conspiracy. After all there's no one more suited for the task than Eren. I'm probably taking it too far but I do think Ymir will have a similar role like Dante. Both are caught in the Limbo, both are not at fault, and both are destined to meet the protagonist.

3. The Crystal : Annie enclosing herself in impenetrable crystal, which outwardly looks very much like ice, could be an allusion to Satan again. In Inferno, he's trapped in ice at the centre of the Earth. Annie is being held captive 'underground'. A very similar process is applied for Satan. He's held underground too and he's enclosed in hard, impenetrable ice, akin to Annie's crystal.

4. Paradis : The name itself could be suggestive of Paradise, i.e., the Garden of Eden, which is mentioned in the Bible as well as in Paradise Lost. The place is described as magical. The 'Paradis' in Isayama's story is not far from being extraordinary and is peppered with rare resources as Kiyomi points out in Chapter 107.

It has "the forest of giant trees", a plethora of resources, and is teeming with diversity. It's equivalent to a biodiversity hotspot, a very rare place on Earth. It has an aura of supernaturality and extravagance, much like the Paradise of Milton. Also, the whole Satan luring Eve with the apple thing (and the Devil's likewise conniving) is also mentioned in Paradise Lost.

So, in conclusion, with this many underlying religious motifs it's highly possible that the Devil is the ultimate villain, like Satan is in Christianity, and Eren's final confrontation is going to be with him- the one who is the root cause of all evil. Even the final exhibition gave a lot of importance to the Devil tricking Ymir Fritz scene. It definitely has much more significance than is apparent.

One of the key themes in SnK has been gray morality. All the characters have their own reasons to justify their commiting the most horrible atrocities they inevitably had to, as per orders. Marley is not exactly on the wrong for torturing and ghettoing Eldians. They fear power that can actually trample on the whole world. Eldia is, of course, not at fault. Their genetic make up may spell impending danger but that doesn't make them any less human. They're cursed alright but that doesn't automatically strip them off their humanity. They have as much right to live as Marleyans. In fact, as we have seen Eren reinforcing from time to time, "Nobody has the right to take that away from us".

Here, Eren also expressed his denial of any plan that even remotely suggested using this probability of turning into a Titan as a weapon to fight. Thus, we can trust that what Eren aims will cause the eradication of this possibility altogether. He will make it so that such a cruel way of fighting doesn't exist ; that nobody will have to be forced to turn into a Titan and die no matter the cause. And the only possible way to do away with this is to kill it's source : the source being the Devil or his instrument, the PATHS.

But, even if nobody is at fault, one cannot veil the truth that Titans exist or rather, the Titan DNA and the inadvertent possibility of an Eldian turning into a Titan exists. It still looms in the SnK universe like 'the grim reminder' we have heard over and over again in the anime. The reminder of humanity being caged and the humility of living under constant fear of Titans popping up suddenly called for invariable Fighting since the very beginning and had also inspired the chase for Freedom. So, how will Isayama bring the main plot/theme revolving Fighting for Freedom to a close? Of course, the answer is by ending slavery in all forms, including Eldians being a slave to the Devil via their fundamental genetic constitution. The Devil is the one responsible for making them Titans, for making the world see them as dreadful enemies. He is the one infringing on their right to freedom and right to live. Thus, Eren WILL face off with the Devil, the cause of all slavery in their world, and finally bring Freedom to humankind. After all, hasn't Eren's character always been all for freedom and for detesting and aiming to do away with every possible form of slavery? If the Devil's very existence is the cause of Eldians being a slave to devilish power, it's only fair that the one character, who has reasserted the importance of Freedom more noticeably than any other throughout the story, is the one that brings the curtain down on the Devil and all his ploys of enslavement and wreckage, consequently freeing his men.

[flameontheotherside]

Interview with Autumn Wells

Today I reached out to Autumn for a little interview about her experience with her TF in spirit, Jimi Hendrix. 

Me: Thanks for agreeing to this interview. For my readers, I thought it would be nice for them to get to know you a little bit especially if you are planning to contribute by submitting your input here on this very blog. I think we all appreciate you sharing your story and that it’s exciting to meet yet another “spiritual widow”.  You would be the 4th one I’ve met with a TF inspirit who was a musician! 

This experience can be difficult but of course has its rewards as we learn and grow from this. It’s great and comforting to know you’re not alone. This was something Erik stressed to me all last month while I wasn’t feeling my best. So I really don’t feel you reaching out when you did was in any way a coincidence. There’s no doubt also that Jimi Hendrix is a legend who inspired many and had an amazing talent. 

Autumn: Thank you so much for interviewing me. I really appreciate it. I'm glad you enjoy the blog! It's funny, but when many people describe how it is to hear Jimi Hendrix play for the first time, they're blown away, too! :)

Me: Where are you from? Are you American?

Autumn: I come from the USA, and I'm a young African-American woman in my twenties. I like to create art, stories, and other artistic projects. Jimi is African-American, too. We both come from mixed backgrounds, with Native American and European ancestors in our backgrounds, too, but our African roots are the strongest.

Me: Are you spiritual or religious?

Autumn: I consider myself more spiritual rather than religious. I do learn a lot of wisdom from different religions, but I don't follow any one religion in particular. I believe in God, through Jesus Christ, but I'm open to shamanic wisdom and many other cultures as well.

Me: I think most of us have a level of intuitiveness. Do you have intuitive or psychic gifts?

Autumn: Yes, I have intuitive and psychic gifts. I've always sensed people's emotions ever since I was little, and the psychic gifts grew stronger as I grew older. They became stronger because of my experience with Jimi's spirit, too. I can type down Jimi's thoughts when he wants to talk and share something with the world. I can also communicate with deceased relatives and other loved ones. Sometimes I sense the emotions of people who are alive on the earth, too. I've had moments where I can psychically detect knowledge about people without really knowing them.

Me: What is Jimi like?

Autumn: Jimi is a sweetheart, really. His personality is the same as it was when he was on the earth. Although he was really flashy on the stage, off the stage he was quiet and so shy. That surprised me in the beginning, because I didn't realize how quiet he was as a person, but the way he is to me is the way he was to many people on the earth - gentle, shy, and loving. He is very intelligent, and he still thinks and dreams in visions, as he did on the earth. He can be romantic, but most of all, he's unconditionally loving.

Me: How do you both communicate?

Autumn: I communicate with Jimi through telepathy, and I often see him with my eyes, too. He can affect my physical reality at times, but not always. For instance, he may draw me to him without me doing anything to move closer to him.

Me: How would you describe your relationship? For instance Erik can be in spirit guide mode which is serious and sometimes we can be friends and more.

Autumn: Yes, Jimi is like a spirit guide, and recently, well... he asked me to be his wife. I was so shocked! :) I didn't expect him to do that. In the past, we've spent many different periods where we were sometimes friends, and other times he was more like a guardian angel. There were also times when we developed a romantic relationship, and we would feel like husband and wife, but Jimi also sometimes would withdraw from my life if he felt I needed to have new experiences on the earth. So for us, we've experienced many different kinds of love on our journey, but right now, he asked me to marry him, and I said yes, after nearly fainting, haha.

Me: How does Jimi appear to you?

Autumn: Jimi looks the way he did on the earth, and he usually looks very young. He has beautiful brown eyes and a kind smile, and he's about 5.11. He wears colorful clothes and sometimes brings his guitar with him. He still loves to play in the afterlife. Here's a picture of Jimi, I think there's no copyright on it:

Me: Telling someone about this can be hard. Did you have problems explaining to anyone close to you?

Autumn: I did try to tell my mother about Jimi and the experiences I had with him, but it didn't really turn out well. At first, she seemed to believe me, and she even said I was lucky. But then she started to doubt me because she didn't see Jimi the way I did, so she thought maybe I was making it all up because I was just a teenager. My Dad figured it was just my subconscious mind, although it was harder and harder for me to believe it was my subconscious when I started seeing Jimi while I was awake. My mom and dad's disbelief did make this journey very challenging because I had no one I could really turn to. I was not on the internet at the time, so I couldn't reach out to anyone who had a similar experience. The best I could do was keep it to myself, but I trusted in Jimi, and I read all I could about Native American spirituality, and how the Native Americans believed they had guiding spirits to help them in life. That helped me out a bit.

Ironically, though, during the accident incident where I had the near-death vision, my Dad was actually present when he saw me speaking to Jimi in the state I was in. I saw Jimi, and felt him so strongly, even though I was malnourished and in very bad shape. I had no clue I was about to go, because I didn't realize how sick I was, but I knew Jimi, so when I saw him, I had this blissful smile on my face and felt I was in heaven. I saw another deceased relative, too, who had just passed away. When my Dad asked me, "Are you in heaven?" I turned to him and said with tears of joy, "I love you so much, Jimi!" My Dad was shocked, and he said, "Now I know you're in heaven," because he always believed Jimi went to heaven after he passed away at 27 (in 1970). But I think even witnessing that moment I had with Jimi might have been too much for my Dad to comprehend.

Me: What can you tell us about your past lives? 

Autumn: Anyway, about past lives, that's an interesting question, because recently I asked Jimi if we shared any lifetimes together. He told me he didn't want to overwhelm me with too much information, but he did say that we shared a past life in England in the 19th century. He said we had several other lifetimes together, too, but he wanted to start with one at the time. It's really intriguing because I didn't know much at all about England in the 19th century, and Jimi told me about a very detailed experience about his life as a music teacher back then. It turns out that everything he told me, when I searched for the historical context, matches up with that time. I'll write about it on my blog eventually, but yes, this is the first past life we are working on. I don't exactly know how many past lives we've had, but I'm sure Jimi will share more when the time is right. (Jimi loved England in his last lifetime, too; that's where he felt really at home.)

I was a skeptic about reincarnation for the longest, but the evidence has led me to believe it's a reality. There is so much pointing to the fact that we've come to this earth before, and I've had that feeling myself.

Me: We have a twin flame (or spirit spouse) who isn’t living. Most of us have never gotten to meet or be with our counterparts while they were alive. So, it can be difficult. What is the hardest thing about having this experience?

Autumn: I'd say the hardest thing about having this experience, as beautiful as it is, is that most of the loved ones and people around me don't really understand it. I tried to open up about it in the past, but it didn't go over well, so I just keep it to myself. I hope that one day, I can integrate this experience into my life more fully, but right now, I just keep most of the details to myself in my everyday life, and try to find a balance.

Another hard thing in the beginning was dealing with the fact that Jimi died young, and tragically. That really hurt my heart, especially as a child. I just couldn't believe it. I kept asking my Dad, "Why? Why?" because I just couldn't understand why Jimi had to pass on when he was only 27. It took me a long time to accept that he was in the afterlife, but it really helped me when he came to me and told me he was at peace, and he came to me because he loved me, not because he felt haunted.

Me: What are some important things you’ve learned being Jimi’s TF?

Autumn: There are many important things I've learned from this experience, though, and the main thing is learning to trust in God, myself, and Jimi. I've had trust issues throughout my life, to the point where I didn't know if I could even trust Jimi or not, but he helped me to love myself, and love him, too. He showed me unconditional love which really helped to heal my heart, and he was there to guide me through some really difficult times in my life. He also brought me closer to God, who I love, too.

Me: How often do you communicate with each other?

Autumn: Jimi and I talk quite a bit, depending on the flow of my life. Sometimes I spend a lot of time studying, so we don't talk as much (I really need to set aside more talking time!) but I can always feel him near me. Early on, we spoke nearly all the time, and I'd write down a lot of our conversations. That helped me connect a lot of dots later on.

Me: What are some funny or good moments you’ve had?

Autumn: I think there were a few funny moments between us sometimes, but mostly Jimi's pretty serious. But he's serious in a light way, if you know what I mean. He's often smiling and telling me stories about his life on the earth, and he helps children a lot in the afterlife.

Me: Like physical twins (I have a twin brother btw), twin flames or twin souls aren’t always alike. In what ways are you alike? Different?

Autumn: I agree that twin souls don't have to be exactly alike. With Jimi and me, we do happen to be amazingly similar, although we have some differences. We both look similar, especially in the eyes, although we don't look exactly the same. We share a deep interest in spirituality, God, and the afterlife, and neither of us believe in organized religion. We love music and the creative arts, although I tend to get more addicted to writing, and Jimi's addiction was music.

We both experienced ESP and psychic phenomena during our lives on the earth; Jimi said in the 1960's that he saw the spirit of Handel while he was living in the composer's home (you can look it up on the internet if you like, it's really interesting!) He also believed his mother, who passed on at a young age, was watching over him in spirit.

We both have the tendency to be nervous perfectionists with our creative arts. I used to feel kind of bad about driving the people crazy around me with my "everything must be perfect" tendencies, until I found Jimi was the same way. :)

We have a ton more things in common, but we also have a few differences. I'm deeper into writing, while Jimi is more into music. But a lot of our differences are more like different sides of the same coin. For instance, we both grew up in blended families, but the blended family for Jimi came later in his life, when his father remarried, whereas I grew up in a blended family (although I didn't always spend time with my older half-siblings).

Considering that Jimi and I never met on the earth, and he lived and passed on before I was born, it's amazing how our lives and personalities parallel each other. Many of the parallels I didn't even know about until I got older and could get on the internet to research.

Me: How do you think you’d be together if he were alive or reincarnated now as your significant other?

Autumn: I think my life would be different in some ways if Jimi were incarnated as someone else. I used to wish I'd meet a guy like Jimi one day, but I knew it was hopeless because no one else is Jimi, unless he came to the earth again, of course. I do think it's good that Jimi is in spirit, though, because the way my family life is, we probably wouldn't spend much time together if he were incarnate. I don't get into the outside world that much.

If Jimi were incarnated with me, I do think it might work out, but he would have to be free from many of the things which led to him passing away so young. Drugs, for instance, were a problem Jimi dealt with, as well as ruthless people in the music business who took advantage of him. I do believe that in spirit, he has much less to worry about, and that has really helped both of us. So although it would be wonderful to have Jimi physically here with me, I also know that it's best that we connected in this way, because he's in the peace and love of the afterlife. I also think that having Jimi as a spirit guide and partner is wonderful because he can be with me wherever I go in the world, and we don't have physical distance separating us. Sometimes I do long to be where he is, though, in the afterlife. One day, I'll be with him for all time, God willing.

Well, that's it for now! Thanks for asking the really good questions.

Me: Thank you for answering and thank you especially for reaching out and sharing us your story! 

If you guys who are following me or stumbling on this, want to know more about Autumn Wells and her amazing story about being Jimi Hendrix’s twin soul, you can find her blog at:

https://jimiheaven.gonevis.com/

She will also be guest posting here as well so watch out for her content. You can see all her submissions with the tag: #Autumn Wells <--Click that link for the goods!