#god's not dead: a light in darkness

[poemwav]

[oldnorthcarolina]

Biltmore Estate, Asheville, North Carolina

[ragnarokhound]

For the au ask game!

OKAY I wanted specifically to get to the pokemon au from the ask you sent, it's been cooking a bit so it's time to see what comes out of the oven, so... @azol-otl ty for the ask!

Crossover au's are all about the fused worldbuilding for me and speculating on how characters from universe A would fit into universe B heehee hoohoo - and for Batfam especially it's fun to think about the equivalent of their roles as vigilantes! What kind of people have the same level of celebrity, the same sideways seeking of justice?

Naturally this leads you to the gym leaders because a) it's the most fun and b) they are like. Quasi-law enforcement/educators/professional athletes depending on how you try to translate the innate child's perspective on the pokemon universe into something that makes sense as an adult lol ilu pokemon. [insert 'compels me though' gif here]

SO with this in mind, here's 5 fun facts (that are mostly backstory lmao) from a jaytim pokemon au I would write

I'm deeply ill about pokemon so this one goes under the cut lol:

Jason Todd used to be the Champion. He won the role after Dick Grayson quit a year or two before (Dick had been getting older and chafing under the League rules - meaning he'd been chafing under how Bruce ran the League) and was a fierce competitor who didn't believe in going easy on anyone. His Houndoom was a force to be reckoned with, and despite running a mostly Dark-type team, his Honchkrow cleaned up anyone thinking their Fighting-types could sweep. He looked after the League and Gotham with a cocky, self-assured attitude and the win record to back it up. .

Jason disappeared suddenly at the age of 15. Many assumed him dead, after a Rocket (Or whatever Gotham themed gang name we want to go with lol could be Team Joker) bombing in the area he'd last been seen, but he's officially declared missing. Bruce Wayne took back the duties of interim Champion as he once did for Dick Grayson, but he's not quite the mentor he once was. It's obvious he's grieving, and that he doesn't want to mentor any more twelve year olds. Dick signed up to be a Gym Leader shortly after this, returning from his trip about a year early to help out in the chaos following Jason's disappearance. .

Enter Tim Drake. Tim's gym challenge wasn't all that interesting in the circuit at first; he had a rocky start and had to retake a few gym challenges. He wasn't exactly sweeping on his first try every time like Jason had done. He didn't have the meteoric rise that caught the Champion's attention early, didn't get one-on-one mentorship or face-to-face meetings, cautionary advice and congratulations all rolled into one from Bruce Wayne himself - but Tim had patience and grit, and he paid attention. He was gunning for the Championship, and it wasn't just so he could prove himself. Team Rocket/Joker was still out there, and Bruce needed all the help he could get. He was always better for Gotham when he had a Robin. .

Dick had been nicknamed Robin for his all-Flying-type team and especially his Natu-then-Xatu; Jason followed up with his Murkrow-then-Honchkrow; Tim's Rookidee was one among many (Robin-esque pokemon were popularized by Dick and the trend remains through Tim's day) so he wasn't considered a possible Robin successor until it was a Corvisquire and he was about to face Dick Grayson himself, a badge away from Victory Road. By then, Tim and his team were a well-oiled machine (he runs mostly Steel-types lol but also Normal-types for the unexpected adaptability and the 'underestimate my rattata i dare you it's in the top peRCENTAGE--' of it all. FEAR.), and his loss-record had all but frozen while his win-record ticked higher and higher. .

Shit finally goes down about three years after Tim has become Champion and all but bullied Bruce into mentoring him (he basically said 'if you don't watch me, i'll go find Team Rocket/Joker on my own' and triggers all of Bruce's child endangerment traumas simultaneously) and the mysterious Rocket/Joker leader Red Hood shows up, bringing the gang out of the shadows in pursuit of a hidden agenda. Identity shenanigans and "wait is that a Houndoom? But he's only been using Ghost-types, it CAN'T be..." and heel-face turns abound. .

(BONUS FACT: Something something, Jason went into deep cover with Looker or whoever he is, that Interpol guy from X & Y (WAIT. LOOKER MIGHT ACTUALLY BE TALIA AL GHUL IN THIS AU HOHOHO), infiltrating the Rocket/Joker gang and going public as Red Hood is the first step in the last phase of the sting. Cue a million tense Jaytim interactions in which Tim is legitimately trying to take Red Hood down and Jason desperately tries to shake him so that he doesn't do anything that forces Jason to blow his cover. There is at least one 'tugged into a tight space to hide them both from the actual bad guys, "wait, did you just HELP me...?" "Think whatever you want, babybird"' interaction because I am a slut for the first sprinkles of a redemption arc that is rife with UST fufufu)

[hephaestusshield]

sexual tension between me and the god complex i get whenever i have a word in literature classes

[ethanharmonia]

The Hisui Trio in my AU!! :D

(they dont know how to dress up 😔)

I wanted to make reference sheets for the three, even though i took a ton of inspo from many things but its for investment i promise i promise

Those three are friends in this AU, they are all in the present world and they are like a family to each other tbh, they might get into a few arguments but they talk it out later on.

To be fair i think those three would give each other kisses, not in a romantic way though, its just more of a platonic thing i guess??

The three of them own dragon type pokemon, from gen 4, 6 and 8 (me like even numbers dont mind me), i kinda felt like these pokemon fit them best by personality (im not exactly sure for 100%)

Dropping the lore here :

The only way Adaman and Irida could go back and out of Hisui was by Volo taking them with him by going through portals with Giratina, of course the two of them got frightened at the sight of Giratina showing up right in front of their eyes for the first time but they got used to it later on.

As a gift of gratitude from Volo for still being accepted by Adaman and Irida even after everything he's done in the past, he made and gave a clone of Origin Dialga and Origin Palkia to them so that they could also travel through the portals or around the world without his help (he's getting tired from babysitting them pls let him live).

Adaman and Irida just live with Lucas, Dawn and Barry in Twinleaf Town, sometimes Volo comes by to visit them and hang out with them. Lucas and Dawn dont have memories of Rei and Akari, so they have no idea of what Volo used to be back then, if they would then oh boy they would try to kill him.

{With Dialga} Adaman possesses Steel type powers (or Metal Bending as they say), he uses it a lot for combat but also for reaching high places if he cant go up there or reach it by climbing, he bends the metal into a form of a long rope in order to get up there.

{With Palkia} Irida has Water type powers (or Water Bending), she is not really the type of a person to fight but she rather heals others, it also works on pokemon too, though sometimes she can kick ass once in a while if anyone drives her mad.

{With Giratina and Arceus} Volo has all the elements, including Dark type powers but he never uses those as he only sees the bad in them and never wishes to use them, reminding him a lot of Cyrus {bro hates him more than anything}, with Volo being an Archon, he can summon pretty much every pokemon, including the legendaries and mythical ones, and the ultra beasts, even though the legendaries are gods too and are feared by many, Volo however just sees them as misunderstood creatures/beings, as he has a better bond with them than with his own people.

Volo despises humans, he only sees the bad in them as he has only seen the bad things that humans did, and with Volo being isolated in Arceus's realm and being there for about 280 years (met Arceus at 20), he cant really change his opinion about it, even if he has friends that are different than the rest of the humans, Volo still has doubts that humans are good, unless proven to him. Sure, Volo is the archon and savior of this world and he is trying his best to make the world a better with no wars or catastrophies, he hates humans, but he just wants peace, but he is aware that even if this happens one day then the peace wont last forever, the world cant remain peaceful for eternity, theres always going to be something happening all the time and he will have to deal with it on his own.

This would be Volo and his Dragapult (canon)

Imagine praying to god, and this is who you're praying to

[bookreviewcoffee]

Circe Madeleine Miller

What did I know about Circe when I started reading the book? Almost nothing. I remembered that she was sung by Homer in his Odyssey, Circe, a great but very lonely sorceress who turned passing sailors into pigs, who fell in love with Odysseus and bore him a son. But Madeleine Miller made her the main character.And in Miller's presentation in the myths appears the beat of life - through emotions, warmth and experiences of the heroine, burdened by torments, joys, sorrows and desires, who is not indifferent to people and wishes them well.

In my memory Circea was a villain who stood in the way of the great hero, who was in a hurry to return to his family. But in Miller's case, it's a bit more complicated. Reading the book, I kept coming back to the fact that the main character is very easy to understand. Despite the fact that she is a Greek goddess, daughter of a titan, mistress of the great Odysseus. Circea contrasts well with the powerful and overbearing gods and goddesses, with their base impulses, playfulness and intrigue. Circea is ridiculed, mocked, ignored, but intrigue aside, she lives - her independent life, the life she desired for herself.

Though the beasts and birds listen to her voice, and the herbs in her hands become treacherous weapons. She is a woman who longs for love. A woman who fears loneliness and despises her immortality. How many times did Circe give herself her word not to throw herself into the abyss of feelings, not to submit to love, not to let it break her heart, and each time she failed miserably...Because she could not do otherwise. And let then again loneliness, again pain, again thoughts about the impossibility to love and be loved.But, she solves her dilemmas, makes mistakes, achieves success, independently determines with whom to communicate, what to do and whom to love. Madeleine Miller gave her heroine a chance for happiness. Allowed her dream a dizzying flight. Ended the story on a pleasant note. Although we all realise that Greek stories about the gods are an endless string of lust, pain and betrayal.

When asked what the book is about, the most appropriate answer is probably loneliness. About how different it can be. After all, you can be lonely not only on a desert island, but also in a palace full of relatives.

But the most important problem, the author outlined in the first paragraph: ‘So, the word nymph was actually a measure and a sign of our future. In our language it means not only a goddess, but also a bride’. Except Circea wasn't born beautiful or gifted, so it doesn't even take Helios to find her a majestic groom. Moreover, she is not like the other gods - she cannot live peacefully, knowing that she causes suffering to others.

It is because of this that the main conflict of the story arises. The question ‘Who is she?’ does not disappear until the last page, and perhaps remains afterwards. The open ending makes you think about serious questions, and that is one of the many benefits of the book.

[majorasnightmare]

thinking about isobel and ketheric, and my durge and ketheric, and isobel and my durge

like ketheric whos entire personality is centered around being a failed father, dirge who lives solely and exclusively for a father who does not love him, isobel being horribly violated for the sake of fatherly love in the name of a person shell never be again like excuse me this trio of people makes me go insane

ketheric and dirge like!! zealot recognizes zealot, ketheric knows what its like to be devoted wholeheartedly to a god who will discard you and thats explicitly why he has a businesslike relationship with myrkul, who KNOWSSS ketherics heart isnt in it but doesnt care, ketheric who never fully believed in the absolute plan but carried it out nonetheless, ketheric who nonsensically traded the death of the world for his daughters life, who in reality most likely traded his afterlife for isobels life, knowingly condemning himself to never see melodia again, to an eternity of torture at myrkuls hands, just so isobel can breathe again. dirge knowing with perfect clarity his own father would never do that for him. ketheric knowing that kind of hopeless devotion and willful blind ignorance leads to a kind of iron will that makes dirge genuinely dangerous but pitying the poor fool nonetheless because despite dirges clear intelligence and skill, despite his overwhelmingly obvious power, hes shackled to a self destructive idiot whod bite off his own arm just to spite the world who couldnt give a single fuck about dirges mental state or how that affects achieving bhaals OWN goals and fulfilling his OWN desires, because ketheric understands perfectly well a god will be stupid and selfish first and reasonable and measured second. dirge hating ketheric not just for being a wishywashy traitor who cant settle on something to be devoted to, but because ketheric has the shit figured out. its a zero sum game. theres no winning, only different types of losers, and embracing that truth means acknowledging his entire life has been a pointless self destructive waste that will never give him the satisfaction and actualization dirge craves, so its easier and more stable to just interpret ketheric as a coward. except hes going to kill himself for isobel. going to go through hell for her. theres a level of devotion and love and care there that dirge has only experienced once in his life and the memory of it is enough to drive him to madness, but despite it all ketheric IS competent. is level and measured and powerful and capable of looking past his own self interest to the far horizon of victory, is tactical and clever and willing to wade into the fray. so dirge hates, and admires, and envies, and pities, and reflexively seeks out and avoids ketheric in equal measure. wants to carve him up until he finally breaks, screaming for a god that wont hear him as just rewards for his insolence (because dirges loyalty will SURELY be rewarded, loyalty to his god and to his father, certainly), cant stand the idea of working alongside anyone else, hates being around him but hates doing things without him, falling into old habits of depravity just to get away from the cacophany of emotion and the introspection it tries to trigger.

and then ketheric is doing all of this for someone who doesnt really exist. the isobel he wants to revive isnt real. its a version of her thats stripped hollow of the things that make her, HER. he wants an isobel that doesnt love aylin, he wants an isobel that is content to remain in place and be protected by him, where he was the center of her world. he wants an isobel that hasnt existed for over a century. he wants an isobel like he remembers thinking of the days before melodia died. its why despite everything he gives up for her, if ketheric gets his hands on isobel he tadpoles her. the tadpoles are just a convenient tool for cutting away the unnecessary parts of a person, things they dont need and wont want afterwards. isobel mourns the father she had after her mother died, but ketheric wants the isobel she used to be when melodia was still present in their lives. the isobel after melodia died eventually left him for aylin. grew up and became a person outside of their small family and community. had interests and desires and goals that took her away from him. she doesnt need aylin, doesnt need anything besides family. thats whats important, thats whats worth ruining lives over. everything after isobel was just a failed copy, not even worth reminiscing over. everyone beyond isobel doesnt matter. desecrate the family tomb, abuse your son, drag your aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters out from the grave just to see if it works, if it sticks, because the whole world revolves around a little girl who stopped existing long before she died, because she became someone else someone new and left you floundering alone. youll get them back even if it means you burn in hell forever, those few precious moments are worth it, itll all be worth it, its already worth it. kill yourself kill the world because the only god worth dying for is the one found in between poorly scratched letters on a paper rotting from age that say "love you papa, -I T". live every day with the smoke and the rot knowing that your father loved you so much he cant even look at who you are now. live every day knowing its a gift you cant return to a man who doesnt see you, knowing that all youll ever have are ghosts that seek to hollow you out and play pretend with the shell. hes awful. hes horrible. hes a monster. hes your dad and he loves you so much its killing you. will kill you. has killed you. has killed everything you could ever want in your life. hes your dad. he read you stories when you were small. kept you from falling apart when your mother died. your rock in stormy seas. he wants to read you another story. its dark outside. its scary. this story has a happy ending. its just for you. the girl in the picture book has your name but doesnt look like you at all. its written in silver blood. theres an ache that wont leave, a rot that refuses to mend, a scar that wont close, and its all for love

thinking about dirge being the one to drag isobel from her coffin, to bring her back for the sake of sealing a pact that will end the world, going against his entire religion the whole reason for his existence just for the sake of fulfilling his own fathers dreams. children living at the behest of their parents, denied death for their fathers selfish whims. isobel autopsied and opened, layers peeled back. gortash and ketheric never exhumed a body, never prepared it for the grave, never made such an intimate study of death. gortash unwilling to bloody himself unnecessarily, ketheric unwilling to look past the deathmask to see isobels interior, so its dirge, it has to be him, the only one willing to bite down his own desires for the greater good. an unforgivable violation of autonomy, but the only one who thinks of it as such is the scion of the murder god. she cant consent. she cant choose to be apart of this, to sacrifice herself for a cause greater than herself. he has to inflict this upon her. life is suffering and madness and delusion. death is peace, and he is the holy vessel of transition from one state to the other. this? this is blasphemy. she has already fled this horrid blighted world for a better one, and here he is participating in blasphemous ritual. its for the sake of their plan, its for the sake of enacting his fathers dreams (as all children know, you are naught but a vessel to achieve the goals they could not in their time), but she cannot even take glory in the knowledge of her sacrifice, cannot even know she is a sacrifice until its too late to go back. carves open and peels back the picturesque skin, preserved by gloom and arid darkness and sealed stone to keep away the rot. peeling away the mask of Isobel Thorm to see the visceral rotting insides of a person ketheric cant stand to see.

clearing away the ruin and decay so something new can take its place. corpses are objects fled of souls, no longer a person, no longer anything and thus free to toy and play with as boredom and curiosity desires, but this is not a thing. this will again be a person, a vessel to trap someone inside of, to force them to suffer and persist and delude and live and he cant even ask if shell do it. do it to help him break the world and put an end to this madness forever. cant convince her of the rightousness of it, the necessity of it, cant help but use her for it. to gortash she is a token exchanged for power, to ketheric she is a snapshot of a better world he wants to go back to, but only here on this dirty bloodstained table with a bhaalspawn elbow deep in her organs is she a person, whos autonomy and personhood is being irrevocably violated. his nature is to free them of these shackles, to snip the cords and revel in the ensuing destruction, and here he is binding her again. the humiliation, the horror, of being set loose from this hellscape only to be brought back. to be dragged, kicking and screaming, back into living. to be subject to such awful blasphemy. here in the dark and the quiet where there is no voice to speak back to him, when there is no rushing blood or beating hearts to call forth his purpose, there and then does armageddons prophet desire forgiveness, only in this shadowed purgatory can someone truly see. when all the world lies dead at my feet, i will beg forgiveness from no one but you. lamb on the altar, holy blood, if such desecration was not necessary for the cleansing of suffering, i would never deign to subject you to it. to you alone do i tender my apologies, my blessed father may forgive this sin in light of the retribution it will call forth, but cruel fate has chosen you without your knowledge to bear this disgusting violation, and the only salve i can offer is that, gods willing, you will not suffer long. to live in a world that could give rise to something like me is a torture i would not wish upon anyone, and for the sake of my father i inflict it upon you nonetheless. when you rise, my only thoughts will be of murder, holy and pure. but here in the dark, when you are at peace and i am not, i think of you, and what youd want, and how no one would ever, COULD ever, ask for what i do to you here. here in the quiet i breathlessly whisper a prayer meant only for your ears, a second sin i cannot stop myself from committing, here where you cannot hear me but God surely can, a wish that i will surely pay for dearly, a punishment i endure willingly and without complaint, a smallest fraction of the torment i knowingly inflict upon you. i live, and soon so shall you, and for that, i will never know peace.

im so sorry. i did it for love

[halfeatenmouth]

The first night I refused to sleep with a pillow between my legs, you took me in and washed my hair with the same careful hands you pulled it with. ‘I am not religious’ I said ‘but I think God is watching.’ But I didn’t mean this in any way other than ‘this must be divine intervention and I must be a dog licking its wounds, and God watches me and does nothing. But I refuse to think God would be so cruel, so you, you must be God for you care, for you are tender and forever quiet.’

Memoirs and Perversions of a Half-Eaten Mouth

[dramoor]

"When one passes through those times of pain which wring the heart, one is called not to break down but to break through. Just as there is a sound barrier, so there is a kind of praise barrier, and one breaks through the darkness by offering praise to God. Praise at such times is not offered as the fruit of a contented and happy mood. Such praise is not the result of a feeling. It is offered in the teeth of feelings of pain, and in spite of emotional numbness which such feelings of pain can bring.

Such praise is offered to God as a pure act of obedience, as a naked act of the will. It comes from a place deep down, from the heart which lives beneath the daily swirl of feelings. Such acts of praise are acts of defiance, through which we defy the darkness, and confess our faith in God who lives above this vale of tears and who calls us to Himself.

That is why, perhaps, such praise breaks through. When one is able to praise God in such circumstances, one is acknowledging that one is not the Center of the universe, and that one’s pain and loss, though personally difficult, have not displaced the cosmos, or changed the faithfulness of God. Like Job looking to God who appeared to him out of the whirlwind, we lift our eyes from ourselves to behold the Lord, and find a whole new perspective and peace. We acknowledge that although our life is temporarily in tatters, God remains on the throne, and He will make it all right—either in this age or the next."

~Archpriest Lawrence R. Farley, on the Akathist to Jesus, Light to Those in Darkness

(Photo © dramoor 2024 Continental Divide Trail, Colorado)

[little-miss-sad-eyes]

Current status: a maiden living in her mother's shadow, doesn't have a name besides: girl

Wants from a relationship: eternal devotion, cyclical waiting and returning to simbolize life and love progressing on earth and beyond, eating pomegranates togheter, sharing the crown and kingdom of the underworld with my husband, to be called: "bringer of death" after marriage

Is waiting for: the earth to open up and teleport me to a world were someone else besides my mother cares about me

[curiosidadmisteriosa]

Parable Of The Madman

Have you not heard of that madman who lit a lantern in the bright morning hours,

ran to the market place, and cried incessantly:

"I seek God! I seek God!"

As many of those who did not believe in God

were standing around just then,

he provoked much laughter.

Has he got lost? asked one.

Did he lose his way like a child? asked another.

Or is he hiding?

Is he afraid of us? Has he gone on a voyage? emigrated?

Thus they yelled and laughed.

The madman jumped into their midst and pierced them with his eyes.

"Whither is God?" he cried; "I will tell you.

We have killed him—-you and I.

All of us are his murderers.

But how did we do this?

How could we drink up the sea?

Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon?

What were we doing when we unchained this earth from its sun?

Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving?

Away from all suns?

Are we not plunging continually?

Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions?

Is there still any up or down?

Are we not straying, as through an infinite nothing?

Do we not feel the breath of empty space?

Has it not become colder? Is not night continually closing in on us?

Do we not need to light lanterns in the morning?

Do we hear nothing as yet of the noise of the gravediggers

who are burying God?

Do we smell nothing as yet of the divine decomposition?

Gods, too, decompose.

God is dead.

God remains dead.

And we have killed him.

"How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers?

What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled

to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us?

What water is there for us to clean ourselves?

What festivals of atonement, what sacred gamesshall we have to invent?

Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us?

Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?

There has never been a greater deed; and whoever is born after us -

For the sake of this deed he will belong to a higher history than all

history hitherto."

Here the madman fell silent and looked again at his listeners;

and they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment.

At last he threw his lantern on the ground,

and it broke into pieces and went out.

"I have come too early," he said then; "my time is not yet.

This tremendous event is still on its way, still wandering;

it has not yet reached the ears of men.

Lightning and thunder require time;

the light of the stars requires time;

deeds, though done, still require time to be seen and heard.

This deed is still more distant from them than most distant stars -

and yet they have done it themselves.

It has been related further that on the same day

the madman forced his way into several churches

and there struck up his requiem aeternam deo.

Led out and called to account, he is said always to have replied nothing

but:

"What after all are these churches now

if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of God?"

-Friedrich Nietzsche

[grub-s]

now we are TALKING. i’ll see how big it’ll get with what i have and make a throw for mum (she is collecting lovely quilts & granny square throws)

[academiclolita]

[sigmaelxgr]

I was just here, sketching to help me fixing ideas and concepts of characters I write about... and while I was messing with Xangr's hair of the period he left the mage guild to listen to some obscure designs, I fell on... Darra. @downontheupside

Hi, 2E male Darra.

[lavenderymoons]

Me watching my comfort Movies, Reading all my Winter Novels while listening to Lana specially when Exams deadline is on my head because December is my Mistress.. (who pays me a visit once a year)

- 23, Dec

[confinesofmy]

me and my cousin i'm barely on speaking terms with (but in a relatively casual way) repotted her deceased grandmother's pothos today. this was our first time actually properly repotting it bc last summer it was in such a fragile state and we were so scared to hurt it that we just lifted it out of its pot and placed it in a bigger one but this go round we basically dismantled it entirely. we got eight discrete plants and placed it into four different pots!! in nine months it went from the edge of death to that many plants and like ninety leaves altogether. so if you're bad with plants but still wanna fool with them, i guess you should get a pothos.