#religions steal things from each other all the time

[oifaaa]

Girl you’re dumb as shit and that person was too. In case you didn’t know Apollo is an Anatolian god who is already poc. Your little white American author removing everything but Greek from him (which still doesn’t make him white 💀💀💀) only means you need to take more history classes and riordan needs his degree taken away. Please go fucking lords sake learn the difference between representation and black washing.

Friend you need to calm down a bit before you break a blood vessel over something that doesn't matter - I'm no expert your right they didn't teach old religions or mythology in my history class - that being said I do know that a lot of different religions (and even people in those religions) can have different versions of the same god it's how apollo is both a Greek and roman god but that being said the apollo that shows up in rick Riordans book is his version of the god its his character not the god himself it allows Rick to take some libraries with the character and that includes their designs - he's not the only one to do this either a lot of people who use the Greek gods in their books, games, shows will usually give them their own unique design on the characters- rick picturing apollo as white or me picturing him as black isn't a big deal

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, Part 8

Jason and Danny leaving Catholic Mass.

Danny: That was sooo long.

Jason: Yeah, Father Henry spoke at length today.

Danny: I know the exodus is important and all, but there was no need for that to last 3 hours. Besides the man is ancient, how does he have that much energy?

Jason: I've been asking myself that for years. Our lead pipe issue here was so bad, the man should be long dead.

Danny: Had? Let me guess, Bruce paid to have them replaced?

Jason: Yup. Speaking of Bruce, want to go to the manor?

Danny: Sure why not?

Jason picked up his phone and called Alfred to pick them up.

Jason: Alfred should be here in five minutes or so.

Danny: Why don't we just fly there? I can carry you with me.

Jason: Kid, last thing I need is for you to be declared the anti-Christ by Father Henry.

Danny: I'm not even a baptized Catholic so...

Jason: What even are you?

Danny: Well I was raised Protestant, but after the whole ghost king thing, I more or less converted to the main religion of the Infinite Realms, called Infini. It's basically the worship of the multiverse itself.

Jason: I was half expecting you to say you were a figure of worship yourself.

Danny: No, the old king made himself a figure of worship. Once I took his place I put a stop to that.

Jason: Damn, I wouldn't have.

Danny: Luckily you're not king.

Jason: I think it's for the best.

Danny: Hmm, what about everyone else? I know Bruce is Reformed Jewish, he's taken all of us to his synagogue.

Jason: Oh, we are very religiously diverse, let me think. Alfred is Anglican/Church of England, Dick and Duke are non-denominational protestants, Tim and Barbara are Agnostic, Steph is an Eclectic Pagan, Cass is Buddhist, and Damian is Muslim. He laughed. Poor Bruce has to keep up with so many holidays.

Danny: Is that why we never do any vigilante stuff on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays?

Jason: Yes, Bruce made that clear to the rouges years ago. Besides they like the days off to make their plans.

Danny: How nice of them?

Jason: One time the Penguin tried to rob a bank on a Saturday and Bruce landed him in the ICU for a month. No one dared brake Batman's "days of rest rule" after that.

Danny: Is that why his nose looks weird?

Jason: No, he was born like that.

Danny: Hmm, follow up question why don't the others join us for mass?

Jason: Father Henry has banned from attending, after they almost burnt the church down.

Danny: They almost burn the church down!?

Jason: Long story, Father Henry has never forgiven them.

Danny: I think Big J might disagree with that.

Jason: Did you just call Jesus "Big J?"

Danny: Yes, and he cheats in Monopoly.

Jason: You've played Monopoly... with Jesus...?

Danny: Yes, it was the Annual Abrahamic Figures Assembly. That game of Monopoly was between Jesus, Abraham, Moses, Ramses, Muhammad, and myself. And Jesus was cheating! He had half the railroads, houses, hotels, and was stealing everyone's money!

Jason: Hold up, Ramses was there?

Danny: Yeah, Moses and Ramses reconciled when they reunited in the afterlife.

Jason: And you attended a gathering of Abrahamic figures?

Danny: Yes.

Jason: ...I sometimes forget you're basically a god.

Danny: Yeah... I sometimes forget that myself. They looked at each other. Oh! Also Mary makes one hell of a challah.

Jason (ruffling Danny's hair): You never stop surprising me kid.

Danny: And I have no plans on stopping.

Jason: Nor would I want you to.

Alfred rolled up in front of them.

Jason: Well Alfred's here, let's go kid.

(Master Post)

[solecize]

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light now, i just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes. ten years of lies and love and crawling back to one another. once shy, budding first love that blossomed before the weight of fame, the cracks begin to surface amidst your respective rises to stardom and navigation of your twenties. either finding euphoria or the end of the world, there's never any in between in existence for you and jungkook. as you build each other up and break each other down in front of millions of eyes, there is a crossroads ahead with words of "marriage" and "military" looming in the air - all while ignoring the price of fame breathing down your necks. this is the story of love and the lessons learned from the man you made your religion. and i wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people-pleaser who only wanted you to see her

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, (brief) fake dating and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. PLEASE DON'T EXPECT HAPPINESS, portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, addiction, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs), underage drinking, mentions of the covid-19 pandemic, sexually suggestive content 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. the series is told in non-chronological order. note that the main character is a member of a fictional idol group. more warnings may be added as the story is written. join the taglist here!

extra. playlist.  one - "the confrontation"    ㅤㅤㅤㅤyou welcome your boyfriend back to the country with a surprise party, just as the clock is ticking to say goodbye again. the big day is almost here and enlistment brings couples either one of two things: a ring or a breakup.  two - "first love in a convenience store"    ㅤㅤㅤㅤback when you were fifteen year old idol trainees, jeon jungkook shares ricecakes with you and steals your heart. as sixteen year old rookies with everything to lose, he steals your first kiss. in present day, these memories fade away until they are no longer recognizable. three - "teenage dreams"    ㅤㅤㅤㅤyoung love blossoms even in the harshest of light, as you and jungkook navigate career milestones together. also known as: the first concert tours, the first time you're put on a variety show together and everyone figures out your relationship, and jungkook's first daesang. four - "hotel azure"    ㅤㅤㅤㅤa party at the notorious hotel azure, the hot-spot for the top names of south korea's entertainment industry, goes awry. in front of everyone, your relationship reaches it's breaking point - except, it doesn't. five - "2017"    ㅤㅤㅤㅤa year of a death of a thousand cuts because, no matter what comes your way, saying goodbye is never an option. 

six- "on your own"    ㅤㅤㅤㅤjungkook picks up the pieces of the mess he made, as he looks back on his choices and the people he surrounded himself with.   

[tricksh0t]

★ the aspect of the warrior

☾ ellaria sand & oberyn martell x top m reader (+ olyvar)

𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘩0𝘵 ⛥ first threesome 😜 (technically orgy); connected to broken merchandise (petyr baelish) but can be read as a standalone. unfortunately ended up having a lot more olyvar than i intended, so take that in mind.

𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 ⛥ 3.25 words

cw: switch reader, top male reader, bottom oberyn, switch oberyn, blowjobs, non-descriptive cunnilingus, prostitution, use of the name whore, missionary, doggy, mentions of the Faith religion, lighthearted and humorous s*x, unfortunately rather fast paced

You've served a long variety of clientele before. Men and women, cock and cunt. You've tugged brown, black, blonde and red hair; stared lustfully into brown, onyx, green and blue eyes; kissed both rough and soft lips as well as given and taken.

You've had real warriors who played into your character or were simply too clueless.

Bastards, too. Waters, Rivers, Flowers, Hills and Stones. Maybe a Pyke and Snow or two, but never a Sand.

Nobles, as well, of many different statures. Wealthy and unfortunate, Lords and Ladies, heirs, but never a Prince.

Prince Oberyn Martell and his paramour, Ellaria Sand, were simply not an offer you could refuse; but they had come without an appointment or any notice, and so you were already caught up with another client.

You'd never miss this for the world, though.

"There he is. The Aspect of the Warrior." At the sound of Oberyn's voice, Olyvar pulls off the prince's cock with an obscene, wet pop.

Prince Oberyn looks you up and down, taking every inch of your well-oiled, famed muscles, from your neck to your calves. Eventually his eyes land on your already sweaty small clothes, and the forming bulge of your arousal. "You are very late, Ser Strong. We would have died if you had been a second too late. You come without your armor, even."

"Cut him some slack." Ellaria chimes. She pets the girl's hair who's currently eating her out absentmindedly, like it's nothing. "He was obviously previously preoccupied. Though, if you ask me, he should've cut whatever he was doing to come straight here."

Olyvar watches, both amused at your humiliation and also annoyed because you've taken his attention.

Oberyn grabs a handful of your new salesman's hair, just calling for his attention as he tugs. "How much is he, then?"

"Expensive."

"More than you?"

Olyvar scoffs, but does give in and nod.

The prince doesn't let the gesture slip by. "What is it, do you two not like each other?" He is growing more amused by the second.

Olyvar looks at you. There, beneath his glare, you catch a glint. He's just playing. While both the prince and his paramour may know your warrior reputation is only a facade, they do not know many other things about how you play. "He is distasteful. Just look at him, all that muscle and he does nothing but fuck all day."

Both Ellaria and Oberyn laugh, falling into the web of how captivating Littlefinger's whores can be.

"Let them have a go at each other, see if that settles their differences." Ellaria suggests.

Oberyn agrees by silently letting go of Olyvar's hair, but his face gives off all his excitement. He's looking for a show.

Olyvar approaches you in quick strides, then he's quickly wrapping his arms around your neck and giving you a kiss that'd steal the breath of anyone that isn't used to him. You reciprocate, roughly grabbing hold of his naked hips, shifting more towards the small of his back. You grasp, getting the bones of his hips and the meat of the top of his cheeks within your knuckles.

"Let's give them a show." Olyvar whispers as he pulls away. You can barely reply before he's pushing you, knocking you down on the bed right between Ellaria and Oberyn. The perfect spot.

He climbs onto your lap and you're back to kissing again. It's a clash of teeth this time, a methodologically feigned hunger for you and what you can bring him. Your hands quickly find his hips, and you're playing just as hungry, guiding him into a harsh, unsubtle grind over your thinly veiled cock.

You can faintly hear the other girl shifting, pulling away from Ellaria as the woman has stopped paying attention to her.

Olyvar moves and so do you, back on your elbows and lifting your hips so he can take your small clothes off. Your cock springs out and he's already grinding against it, ready to take it in in one swift go.

Before that even happens, though, Ellaria gasps a "ooh" and Oberyn wolf-whistles.

The prince's voice stops the two of you. "Now that is a cock that cannot go to waste."

You and Olyvar exchange looks. It's a quick thing, before the blonde is slipping off your lap, his job accomplished.

Oberyn gestures for you to come to him, but Ellaria grabs hold of your bicep before you do. Her hand cannot even wrap around it. "Ladies first." She says, addressing her lover with a smirk.

The prince obliges with a smile of his own, but you've long years of reading people and can see below that a slight bit of disappointment.

Ellaria lays further back onto the bed, her short hair falling behind her, splayed out like a halo. She spreads your legs as if to show herself off as your prize, that charming smirk on her face daring you to take it.

You kiss a path up her ankle. A Sand, tanned skin and dark hair yet both are smooth and shiny, unlike what Lords tell you about Dorne. They portray it as a land where the people broil miserably under the heat, causing wrinkles in the youthful. Perhaps it is that they are wrong, or perhaps it is that Ellaria Sand is a woman well taken care of, lucky to have caught the eye of a Dornish prince.

That same eye follows you as you trail up her leg and to her cunt, getting a taste of it; protective, perhaps, or otherwise jealous.

"I've had enough of tongues," Ellaria says, calling your attention. She tilts up your chin with just two finger, "'sides, that cock of yours is what we're interested in, Aspect of the Warrior."

"Nothing about my muscles?" You respond, fixing yourself up into position, kneeling between her legs.

Ellaria can admit that her eyes trail down, beginning at your shoulders and your biceps all the way down until she can't. "They are very appealing, but you must understand I often get my fill." She glances towards her lover.

Oberyn winks when you glance over.

You concede with a small laugh and the shake of your head. "Then what appeal is there to The Aspect of the Warrior?"

"Fame and reputation." Oberyn answers for the both of them. Ellaria is much too impatient on the other hand, and beckons you in by kicking your ass slightly with her foot. "You're rough, but also pliable. Headstrong, but also willing."

You'd reply, but Ellaria is staring you down with such a look of "just do it already".

You obey her, slowly pushing into her warmth. Her hand lands on your shoulder, well-kept nails digging into the flesh.

"I'm not fragile." She says confidently.

And again you obey, though you'd been cautious initially for a reason. Ellaria gasps, legs wrapping around your waist with a start. Her nails rake down your back.

"A stretch?" Oberyn asks, head propped up with his elbow, much more interested in this than the whore licking at his asshole and prepping him.

"Very." She says, almost having to choke it out. She sounds eager anyway when she continues, "Go on."

The first you give her seems to Ellaria much too boring. If you have a big cock, she expects you to know how to use it. "Is that the hardest you can go, aspect?"

You'd expected her to learn her lesson after the shock of having to take all of you in swiftly.

"The Aspect of the Warrior is also part of the Faith." You almost scold as you grab her by the lower back and hold her up, giving you a better angle to thrust into her cunt. "So, as much as strength is a part of him, the Faith cares for his subjects."

"Very charming, the way he talks in third person." Oberyn jokes, but his paramour is much too preoccupied with the cock splitting her open, the way she seems to like it.

She clenches around you, head already falling back. Her mouth splays open with mutterings of curses and moans.

She can hardly let go of you, even, the clench keeps you there, as if her legs don't do a well enough job already, and her arms are wrapped around your back.

"You must have a name, beyond Faith and Warrior. You don't expect her to scream those, do you?" Oberyn steals one of Ellaria's hands from your back to lazily intertwine his fingers with hers.

"They have been heard, around the halls." Olyvar responds for you, still servicing the prince with his tongue.

He looks amused at that, exclaiming sarcastically, "Oh, warrior! Save me, warrior."

"Yes," Ellaria moans, caught up in her own world, "yes, ser."

"Hmm." Oberyn hums, impressed. "That works."

You wonder if you're doing a better job than the prince usually does. For a couple so active, you'd imagine there's some sort of desensitization by now. There's some pride in knowing that you're making her feel this good, to lose her mind, when Oberyn might not even do the same anymore.

Speaking of, he watches in interest as you lick your thumb to press it down against his paramours clit. She keens loudly as you rub the nub in circles, prompting a quick and shuddering orgasm.

"That was fast." Oberyn teases, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Oh shut up, you." Ellaria wheezes out, regaining her breath. She squeezes back.

She gives your cock one final squeeze, like a parting gift, as you pull out. As soon as you do so, Oberyn is beckoning you over, much better at hiding his impatience and so displaying it now.

He's slower with it, though. It is merely having you that excites him already.

He parts only one leg, encasing your side with it, while he keeps the other under you so your hard lengths are not far apart. When he grabs the back of your neck to pull you down for a kiss, it is an intentional move, as you lean down towards him and your cocks press against each other.

His tongue was hot against yours, his swollen lips addictive, and so you chase him as he parts from the kiss. He grinds his cock up against yours, and so you chase that as well with your hips.

Oberyn's already got you wrapped around his finger.

You hardly notice the way Oberyn is sizing you up until Ellaria speaks up, propped up against the pillows in a heavenly kind of way in her post-orgasmic glow. "He's bigger. No use in denying that."

"I usually don't like brutes." Oberyn says, and somewhere, vaguely, you know he's playing it off by monologuing. His hand reaches down to guide your cock to his hole. "The bigger men get, the more disproportionate and ugly they become. Take the Mountain, for example. That kind of man can only be loved by his mother."

"I bet even that isn't true." Ellaria laughs.

Between the two of them, you're more preoccupied with getting your cock into the prince. For one, you've yet to orgasm, for two, he's a prince.

Maybe it's being a Prince that makes you pretty, or maybe it's being a Lord that makes you ugly, because in the hierarchy of nobility, Oberyn Martell is probably the best noble you'll ever get to fuck, and it isn't for his money or his status.

Oberyn stares you down as you push in. His stare keeps you in place, washing away any aspects of having the bigger body and muscles, of being The Aspect of the Warrior.

He's stoic, like this isn't his first time.

Olyvar speaks up, calling your attention. He's splayed out comfortably on the bed besides Oberyn, instigating, playing that game again. "Have you taken any bigger, Prince Oberyn?"

You and Oberyn turn back towards each other at the same time. The prince reaches up to cup your cheek, some form of endearment that once more keeps you submissive to him. He's inclined to say yes, to poke fun, but, "No, I have not."

"You're playing him a fool." Olyvar says. His hand is warm on the small of your back. Its thumb flicks over your spine, making you shudder.

Oberyn whistles. He felt that. "It is rather fun, you know. A brute at your heels."

Not The Aspect of the Warrior, pointedly. Oberyn sees past your act, doesn't care for it. To him, you're just a big man with a big cock and muscles you don't know how to use.

He takes the sex casually, not giving much reaction to the thrusting of your hips, however slow you're taking it right now. You can't help but take it as an offense. You've always been revered as The Aspect of the Warrior with your clients, for your strength and your build, even by Ellaria herself.

You yearn for a reaction from this tough prince.

You play into the submission, leaning down to capture Oberyn's lips in a kiss, because you want him to think you're needy for it.

He smiles into the kiss, heaving a small laugh through his nose. He finds you amusing.

Little does he know, it's only a distraction. You lift him up, causing him to gasp, then place him on his stomach. Oberyn immediately turns his head to look back at you with indignance, but his eyes shut quickly when he you thrust up to the hilt, because he gets to feel all of you.

"Does that feel good?" You lean down to whisper into his ear as you start up again, going slow just to tease him, because you know he can take more. "To feel all of me?"

He tries to keep stoic, but it's clear in the way his breaths grow ragged that the answer is a resounding yes.

"Did you prep him properly, Olyvar?" You ask just to tease the prince, feigning care.

The blonde chuckles. "Spit and tongue then oil and fingers, my love."

"My love? They've been playing us a fool, Oberyn." Ellaria jokes, but her paramour is much too preoccupied with the cock splitting him open on the more literal sense to notice.

Oberyn sucks in a gasp when you thrust up particularly harshly for the first time, then follow up with that same strength over and over, resulting in a sharp whistle-y sound. It seems to embarrass him.

Much of you embarrasses him, though it seems to please him at the same time. You're bigger than him in body and muscle, engulfing his figure as you fuck into him; you've got a bigger cock, and you pleased his paramour well with it.

There's jealousy somewhere in there, but he doesn't act on it, not when he gets to have you.

"He's good, isn't he?" Ellaria hums.

"Yes he is." Oberyn replies. His face isn't even pointed towards his paramour. It's rather amusing for you this time.

You pick up the pace, and he still doesn't break; because it's not admitting that you're good that you want, it's making him moan unabashedly.

You move his knees, propping him up on them to better fuck into him. Oberyn's breath hitches. Then you press a kiss upon his spine, and, "Oh, warrior!" How ironic.

A steady stream of groans leave Oberyn's mouth as you fuck him. You keep a hand beside his head to lean over him, and another warm hand over his cock. It wraps around the girth of it easily, and then some.

Ellaria laughs, because she of all people should know that Oberyn does not often get like this. "You're no Warrior."

"You're the Stranger." Oberyn chimes up for his part. The need for humor and the lift of his lips in an open-mouthed smile afterwards shows you just how much he likes it.

You chuckle, "Shall I be the death of you today, then, Prince Oberyn?"

"You know, at some point," He laughs too, shakily, "it gets rather fatuous."

He is right. You let your movements take over, pleasuring him. As is your job, pleasuring him, and even past the "honor" of fucking a prince, there is the pleasure of fucking Oberyn.

He's tight, but not like a virgin, you're not his first experience and you like that, because you can go as rough and fast as you like and Oberyn will take it. The pleasure is in knowing that you're the one creating the obscene slapping of skin in the room, and the eyes that watch you, the beautiful Ellaria Sand and Olyvar, your occasional lover. The pleasure is in knowing that you're making a real warrior such as Oberyn shiver and moan.

The hand you have wrapped around him begins to work him in tandem with your thrusts, and it has him spilling over.

Oberyn slumps forward with a sluggish smile, closed teeth now that he has a break. "Will it put a dent in the fortunes I have brought if I ask for another round?"

Olyvar smirks, "If you make it quick, it won't."

"And the warrior still hasn't finished." Ellaria remarks as you pull out of her lover, cock still proud and strong.

"Endurance," You reply, "a selling point."

"And here I thought we were simply not good enough for you." Oberyn turns around to lay on his back. His breaths slow as he relaxes. He nods his head between you and Olyvar, "So, you and him, history?"

"Just coworkers." Olyvar says, all business. "I'm sure you know there are certain folks that simply aren't good at this sort of thing."

"So we weren't good enough." Ellaria laughs. "I'd like to see you get the aspect off, then. If we simply aren't experienced enough."

Olyvar is more than welcome to. In fact, he seems eager to, as you fix yourself upright on the bed and he crawls towards you. Once more, you are playing a show, except this time, there is no goal except to pleasure you.

"Prince Oberyn, Lady Ellaria," Olyvar says as he nears your cock, "take pride in knowing you are simply not whores."

You feel like a King, getting to have all this: a Sand's cunt, a Prince's hole, your part-time lover's mouth. "I'm pampered." You voice.

He stares up at you as he takes you down to the base, something that causes clear surprise in the two Dornish. Olyvar's words make sense to them now, it's the experience that comes with working as a whore that allows him to do this. Or perhaps it isn't, perhaps it is your history together.

You won't voice it, but it's comforting coming back to Olyvar. The way you watch him isn't sultry, it's endearing. The way you grab a handful of his blonde hair isn't sultry, it's appreciative.

Olyvar has boundaries with his clients. He won't swallow, and he won't let them finish inside him, but you're not a client.

When you cum, you do so down his throat, and he swallows gladly.

Oberyn applauds, pulling you away from the sight of Olyvar. "And the show comes to an end."

"So it does." Ellaria sits up and leans towards you, capturing you with a much-needed kiss. She is just a good a kisser as her lover. "Whenever we find ourselves in King's Landing again, I'm sure we'll cross paths."

"I might have him brought back to Dorne, actually." Prince Oberyn jokes.

"You'd like the competition?" Ellaria teases.

Oberyn's eyebrows furrow at that, his anger at the idea almost real. "Perhaps it is a bad idea, then."

A Sand and a Prince, added to your list.

[ismaeldrawsthings]

Thinking about the contrast between Thetis and Mary mother of Jesus ok I am NOT crazy just hear me out

I'm thinking about how Mary just got married with a man she loved so deeply and was chosen by her God to give birth to his child, still a virgin. She felt honored. Her womb, a blank canvas that would paint an amazing story. Her son the embodiment of God, characterized by his gentleness and compassion, how he spent the years of his life spreading the word of God, messages about loving one's neighbor and peace. His child, whom she saw die humiliatingly and cruelly in the hands of a people who feared his message of love and peace. Who she saw coming back to her even after death.

And then we have Thetis. Thetis, daughter of Nereus, maybe the fairest one of them all. Zeus and Poseidon wanted her, and did she feel honored by this? Did she boast of being the envy of her sisters and cousins? Being desired by Olympians is no small thing. Let's say she did. Let's say she was excited to be chosen by the King Among The Gods and The King Of The Seas to dispute among each other for her hand. But then the prophecy, "greater than his father", came, and she was no longer desired. She was feared. Her womb was feared. They all knew what happens to those Gods who are greater than their fathers; Zeus still reeks of Cronos remains. So she was arranged a marriage to this man she knew nothing of nor cared about. In fact, in the standard myth, Peleus rapes her. He was told how exactly to do it. This mortal, who she hated—she couldn't stand mortal blood—, forced his child into her. They get married and her pregnancy begins. In some versions, Thetis has 6 children before Achilles who she kills because she couldn't stand the idea of having a mortal child. It's not fair. What did she do? Why was she being punished for something that was not up to her to decide? She has her son, and calls him ἄ��ος, suffering, because isn't that all that thing has caused her? Isn't all her suffering because of this dammed thing that grew inside of her? It should be easy to hate him. In fact, she should hate him.

Yet she doesn't. She loves him. She loves her little suffering. And she loves him so much she finds it all unfair. Unfair he will die and she will live carrying all this sorrow inside of her. She wished there was a way to grant him with godhood, but there is none. He is no God. And that is cruelty, that isn't fair.

Even if she tries to protect him, her suffering is sent to war afar from her. And he's full of hate. And isn't all that hers? He was born out her hatred, out of her rage. That's what he was born to feel, that's what he was made of. No matter how much her or the people around him try to do, his destiny if full of hatred, and violence, and blood, and all things bad. He's named the Best Of The Greeks because of how many Trojans have died by his sword. He steals, and kills, and kidnaps. He's not just her suffering alone, now, he's the people's suffering, Αχιλλεύς. He dies and he doesn't come back, because he's mortal, she can't make him a God. And she will live forever with her sorrow.

Jesus was Mary's blessing. Achilles was Thetis' punishment. And yet they both loved their children like only a mother can.

Also to add to that contrast, Mary is dressed really modestly ofc because she's a virgin and God's mother and she has to have a lot of cloth to cover her. Thetis is illustrated showing a lot of skin most of the time. The cultural differences play game into that fact of course but this comparison is not even like implying that they're equivalent to either religion so wooooo woooooooo

Anyway it's 2 AM why am I yapping this much

[flightyquinn]

So, I was reading about the Streets Oracle mystery for Pathfinder (shoutout to @dailycharacteroption), and I had this idea.

What happens when playground rumor and organized religion converge?

In a certain city, there was a group of children. Orphans and outcasts, they lived on the streets, with no one to watch over them. No one but each other. The older kids did what they could to take care of the younger, and when they found new children that had been abandoned they took them in. They were a family, not a cult. It all changed with an innocent question, "Where did you get that?" Of course, the older children did what they must. Whether it was food, medicine, or clothing, if their family needed it, they would steal if they had to...but they didn't want the little ones to know that. So when a girl told her little siblings that "Mother Magpie" had given her coin and food, the others were quick to play along. Going out to steal became "asking Mother Magpie for gifts." When the time came to teach some of the young ones to steal, they were told that they must always give all the credit to Mother Magpie, and no one else, or She would stop providing them with things to take. One boy even had the idea to teach the young children to pray aloud to Mother Magpie for what they wanted, so that the older members of the group would know things to be looking for. Another in the group started making charm necklaces for everyone when one of the little ones pointed out that real gods had holy symbols. Of course, it was just a way to keep the little ones quiet. A fun game, but not much more. At least...until one of the children started having visions. At first it was just a flash here and there. An idea of where to find some desperately needed item. Insight into when shop storerooms and mansions' kitchens might be unwatched. Then it was bigger things, like warning the group the night before their hiding place was to be raided by the guards. However, it was the first time their gifted friend cast a cure spell that the whisper spread like wildfire among the older children...Mother Magpie was real.

Mother Magpie is a Chaotic Good deity whose true identity is unknown.

She is a goddess of thieving and trickery, but also of providence, compassion, and protecting children.

Her associated domains are Chaos, Community, Good, Luck, Protection, and Trickery.

Her subdomains are Whimsy, Family, Friendship, Imagination, and Thievery.

Although her most sacred animal is the magpie, she also favors any animals which scavenge from the leavings of society, such as crows, pigeons, racoons, and opossums.

Her holy symbol is a crude rendition of a black and white bird, which is sometimes depicted clutching a rolling pin, or other symbol of maternal status.

[mambodork]

A question perfect for the holidays!

On the several aus of boatem or just hermitcraft in genera. What would they do during Christmas?

For example, Isekai! Au, villain boatem! Au, and hotguy and the watcher/cuteguy

Hurray !! Merry late christmas :3

For the isekai au, the world building in the novel works differently from the real world. They have a different calendar system, religion, days of celebration, etc. So there's not really "christmas" in it.

I'd imagine Grian would see that the calendar is nearing its end and would mutter "Oh... it should be around christmas by now." Someone else would overhear him say it and ask what christmas is, in which Grian would continue to make up a lame excuse about something his family celebrates as an inside joke, yadda yadda. When Grian mentions that you're supposed to exchange presents, the rest of boatem immediately panics and scrambles to different directions to try and get presents for each other. Grian decides that this is a really good bonding activity that will HOPEFULLY make them not want to kill each other in the future.

The gifts they get ended up being extremely strange and/or explosive. I'd like to think Scar would accidentally trip on one of the presents, activating one of the explosive items and launching all the gifts under the "christmas tree" into the sky, making it look like some kind of firework. Grian just stares at the now lit up sky with his jaw on the floor. The rest of Boatem shoots laser eyes at Scar as he anxiously tries to apologise, only for Grian to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness. Gosh, I love him and the pathetic cats he picked up from the streets so much, guys.

For the Boatem Supervillains, I could imagine a christmas special scheme where they would do some ridiculous thing like stealing all the christmas presents and replacing every single one of them with coal, pelting random people in the face with a snowball machine gun, Maybe even going to the extreme and actually kidnapping Santa 😭 whether or not it's actually Santa the real deal or just some guy in a mall, I'll let you guys decide. Just know that they're probably doing something really really silly.

For the h0tGuY and the watcher au ... I think it's a bit more on the angsty route with the both of them still having to work even in the holidays. Hotguy would continue to fight villains and monsters. He'd look at the occasional family, couple, or group of friends happily celebrating christmas and is just feeling so bittersweet about it. He takes a little rest after battle and Grian approaches him with those deer antlers headband. He's currently having a cold from the weather so his nose is like really red, and it makes him look like rudolph, which is so funny. Grian presents him with a lunchbox that looks like a traditional red present and Scar raises his eyebrows, questioning him since it wasn't time for lunch yet. Grian sneezes and tells him that it was a christmas special and he should just take it. Scar opens the box and cringes when he saw ... pickles ... cut in the shape of the usual christmas cookies ... snowflakes, gingerbread, christmas trees, the whole bunch. Grian sits down on the ground, not leaving until Scar finishes all his pickles like he usually does. And they spend the entire time just chatting until the next monster attack comes.

[sfehvn]

new religion part 2

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Description: AU- Things have gone too far between you and Astarion and he's not sure he'd ever be able to give you what you truly want. Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 1,804 Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x fem!au!Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  Luxurious fur blessed your fingertips, stroking absently at the feline across your lap. You hummed a sweet tune as you continued your project. Astarion had the finest oil paints in Faerûn imported to nourish your new hobby. Looking at the canvas, well, it was very much a mess of colors. So much so that he would not have been able to make out what the picture was intended to be if he had not known. He would praise you all the same regardless. As a token of thanks, you had requested he sit for you in the garden while you paint him. 

  “You will be the first to have an original Tav piece. You can show it off when I’m a famous painter.” You joked as he assisted with setting up the easel.

  The kitten that purred against your touch was also a gift. One comment was made about how you had always wanted a cat but never had the room for one; it was just another opportunity to shower you with all of the gifts you had so deserved. The joy on your face when he presented you with the tiny feline made his heart swoon. Astarion would admit he had yet to think that offering through, though. When you were not present, which was most of the time, he had to care for the wretched little thing. His feigned attitude towards the kitten, which you had so ominously named Georgie, was a facade. He had grown to find comfort in the furball curling up to him in bed in your absence. He even caught himself cooing to the blasted little creature on occasion.

  Astarion sat in the wrought iron chair across from you, a forgotten book propped open on his forearm as he admired the tenacity on your face, tongue jutting ever-so-slightly from between succulent lips as you struggled to work with the paints. How could you be so blissfully oblivious to the beauty you are? He wondered, his head resting in the palm of his unoccupied hand. He had a burning fire in his chest, demanding he show you not only your beauty but that you deserved much more than the small cottage you shared with seven other occupants. Your rightful position was right next to him in his palace. You deserved to have everybody else waiting at your beck and call, not the other way around. You insisted you could not leave your family, nevertheless.

-

  “Stay here with me. I promise I’ll make it worth your while, my pet.” The two of you lay bare, entangled in silk sheets and each other’s arms. Astarion stroked the delicate pink skin of your cheek with the careful tips of his fingers, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. His words caused you to let out an amused giggle at his bequest. His eyebrows knitted together, and a slight frown played at the edges of his lips. He was serious.

  Your smile dropped, and an apologetic look graced your features. “Oh, Astarion.” You sighed wistfully. “I just can’t. Not right now. Papa’s not doing well; I can’t just abandon him. Lillian needs a lot of guidance at this time, and with Alan having just moved into his own home now that he’s married, there’s no one to take care of our younger sisters.” You sputtered out. Astarion noted the stress that marred your face and decided to drop the matter for now.

  “Sh, my treasure.” He coaxed, pulling your head into his chest. “We can address it later.”

-

  Astarion pondered on when he had gone so soft, for lack of better words. Before you, there was no hesitation to steal what he wanted. Much easier it would have been to just bite you, keeping you to himself for all of eternity. He had thought about it when the disdain of being apart grew too great. This was after you, though. You had brought a bright light into his world of darkness, and he knew you would never be the same if he made such a decision on your behalf. 

  Guilt regularly gnawed at a conscious he wasn’t even aware he’d had. He still hadn’t found the courage to tell you of his true nature. You often called the raised tissue on his neck his vampire bite, and he’d always panic at the joke, wondering if he’d been found out. Inwardly, of course, he ensured he remained calm and collected on appearance. Soon, he told himself. He’d let you enjoy the normalcy of your current relationship for just a while longer.

  Your groan fractured him from his thoughts. “Okay, it’s actually terrible. Please don’t laugh at me.” You pouted. 

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.” Astarion assured, setting his book down on the table before him, pushing back his chair, and standing up. He bent down to get a better look at the canvas. “My, that’s a beautifully eclectic rendition of yours truly.” He hums, resting his hands on your shoulders, squeezing in encouragement. He meant it. It was something you had created; of course he would love it.

  “Okay, you are officially the biggest liar I know.” You grinned, patting his hand softly as he shifted away. Georgie stretched in your lap. You placed him down, smiling as he hurried away into the open door of the manor.

  “Your words wound me.” He holds his hands to his chest dramatically. “I’ll display it in the foyer.” His finger reaches to tap the tip of your nose playfully.

  “I guess it must truly be Astarion approved then.” You hummed, recalling how tumultuous he had acted when replacing the art in his foyer. It must be perfect, he had said; first impressions are everything, my dear. “I don’t think your guests would be in agreeance with you.” At this point, you had stood on your tip-toes, planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

  He dismissed your presumption with a wave of his hand. “Nonsense, my love. You question my tastes? When I’ve got you on my arm? I’ve already won.” His index finger taps the underside of your chin, encouraging your mouth to his. You oblige, and Astarion lets out a delighted laugh against your lips. He would never grow tired of how easily you unraveled for him and him only. Without breaking contact, he reaches down to grip the backs of your thighs, lifting you from the ground and setting you on the garden table.

  Your breathing hitched as his hands wrought at the bottom of your dress, pushing the hem up until it pooled around your waist. His fingers brushed your mound over already-soaked underwear. He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “So ready for me already, pet? I’ve barely touched you.” Spoken like a purr, causing goosebumps to bloom over your skin. He buried his nose into your neck and breathed your scent in deeply. Chamomile and lavender had become distinctively you. His eyes close as your fingers tread over his scalp, hooking into his hair. “Keep touching me like that, treasure. I’ll fuck you right here.” 

  “Please. It’s been too long.” You murmur. It had indeed, he thought. This was your first day together after being apart for ten long, agonizing days. His fingers push your underwear to the side, the tips hardly swiping over your drenched core. The contact motivated your body further against him. Your breasts pressed to his firm chest, and he brought his unoccupied hand to sit atop them, thumb stroking delicious skin.

  Greedy hands moved to the front of his trousers and at the feeling of his bulge, you ached to feel him inside of you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and tenderly pushed your hands away. Your expression was one of rejection that panged Astarion’s undead heart, but his demeanor was one of significance. He took your hands in his as he stared deeply into your eyes. “Stay with me, Tav. The manor has never been this airy without you. I mean- I understand you have responsibilities you believe are your own, but I could give you everything.”

  With a furrowed brow, you sluggishly pull away from him. “These responsibilities are my own. This is my family, Astarion.” You pursed your lips, looking everywhere but at the man before you.

  “Pet, don’t be silly. They are holding you back. I recognize you love them, but you cannot put your needs on hold to protect them forever.” He reaches out to brush the hair from your face, but you quickly dodge the touch, pressing him aside so you can stand from your position on the table. His jaw clenches in annoyance, but he allows you your space.

  “So, what? My father will be buried beside my mother soon, and you are so selfish that you can’t even give me the grace to spend his last days with him.” He had never seen the fire on your face; your usual demeanor dissolved.

  Astarion’s jaw slackens, and he shakes his head in response. “I’m just thinking big picture. Where will your sisters go when the time comes, Tav? Are you to give your entire life to them? How is it fair to you?”

  “If that is what must be done, then so be it.” Astarion noted how heavy your chest heaved, your body shaking from anger. You were angry with him.

  “And what of me?” He was mindful of how needy and, as you said, selfish he sounded but couldn’t hold back. “What do you want with me if not forever?” Indeed, you couldn’t expect him to house the entire cavalry that was your family.

  You froze and gulped in a large breath to calm your nerves. Maybe you have been negligent of his feelings as things grew more serious between you two. “I want you, Astarion. I want everything with you. I want to take your last name. I want to bear your children. I want to care for you until we’re both old and gray.” There’s a crack in your voice as you stifle back tears. Astarion’s stare softens, his stomach plunging at the knowledge of only ever being able to gift you one of those things. “I’ve always dreamt of creating a family of my own. Of being a mother to children created with the man I love.” You pause to swipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “But I can’t leave my sisters to fend for themselves. I won’t.” 

  Astarion observes you as you collect your shawl, exiting the garden without another word. He’d let things go too far. He’d led you to believe this future you dreamed of could be achieved with him and even encouraged the delusions in his own way. Perhaps you would be better off if this relationship came to a close.

[cornyonmains]

So, I really need everyone to understand what's going to happen in the coming weeks and months.

Right now, in this singular moment of time, we are unified. Regardless of our race, gender, religion, and political affiliations, we have all set sights on a common enemy. A common enemy that's killing us regardless of who we are, stealing our grandparent's retirements, and years from all our lives.

This enemy is smart enough not to be divided by the petty things we've allowed to separate us. They're not arguing about Starbucks cups while dancing on our graves. They're planning. They're in ivory towers talking right now about the best way to drive a wedge between us.

The legacy media will likely try to manufacture consent for Neoliberal reforms, like a price negotiation bill. At this point, it's a band-aid on an open wound, and just like Obamacare it will likely be filled to the brim with provisions to protect private health insurers. It'll also likely only be for select medications. Don't fall for it.

They'll do things like what Martha Raddatz did in her interview with Ro Khanna, just flippantly mention how impossible it is.

In between all this, they're going to be digging up every cringelord post Luigi Mangione ever made try to stoke a culture war again. Don't let him. What Luigi believes is secondary to what he did and how fucking free it made us all feel.

Businesses might get spooked, they might do something like what Blue Cross did, which is to roll back their decision on limiting anesthesia. You might see a few of them lower their prices. You might even see some talk about a new and more ethical form of capitalism. A few of the richer companies might even start paying a few bucks an hour extra.

Don't fall for any of it. It's all done in pursuit of keeping us dying too soon in hospital beds, because these businesses don't want to pay the taxes. They want us to be happy with a few extra bucks.

Stay unified, stay focused, and stay mad.

We can do this. Don't let these fucking scandaloids on the news get us scratching each other's eyes out over nothing. Let's empty their pockets for once.

[sclerites]

one of my main gripes with the DC cinematic adaptations is that they don’t capture how absolutely FUCKING INSANE the world is. In the background of superman and lex beating each other up and/ or kissing or whatever, Constantine rolled a blunt made from swamp thing plant stuff to spite the swamp thing who had grown in his flat out of Constantine’s ash tray, only to get possessed by the swamp thing so that he could fuck his wife so they could have a kid or something, while etrigan, a centuries old man possessed by a demon (I think) and the phantom stranger, who is apparently the reincarnation (I think) of fucking Judas from The Bible, watch them. Meanwhile in the 25th century a man who named himself Booster steals some superhero shit from a museum, travels back in time and becomes famous by saving fucking president Ronald Reagan from dying. It is at least heavily implied that magaret thatcher (or at least conservatives, generally) are Actual demons from Actual hell. Actually, scratch that. Fucking Margaret thatcher canonically exists in the same universe as the flash, period. Also, on that topic: the flash, a man who possesses the superhuman ability of speed, as gifted to him by the speed force, one of the seven cosmic forces of the universe which also includes: the emotional electromagnetic spectrum, life force, the sphere of gods, dimensional superstructure, collective unconscious, and faithfulness. And that’s not even starting on the seven hidden forces. Also I might have skipped past it but also fucking god and satan exist, and so does probably every other god from every pantheon and religion but that’s all kinda brushed over except when it isn’t. And that isn’t even scratching the fucking surface, good god.

Big shoutout to DC for being just absolutely goddamn bizarre please never change 💛

[more-sonorous]

Idk if someone has already asked you, but favorite Jack and davey headcanons????

mmmm i love this :D i have so so so so so many headcanons for them so i'm gonna try my best to narrow it down lmfaooo

overall

jack never stops drawing davey. he's obsessed. he'll fill sketchbooks with the most mundane things about this boy because he finds him so impossibly pretty

davey is taller, and jack pulls him down into kisses. be it by the tie, the collar of his shirt or his hair-- jack doesn't do tiptoes. davey also loves dropping kisses onto jack's forehead.

davey loves jack's hands. could stare at them all day. he's always wanting to hold them or run his own fingers over the callouses, or rub the constant streaks of paint off-- jack's hands are constantly on his mind

jack could listen to davey read for hours on end and never get tired. there's something about davey's voice, how soft and soothing it is, maybe, that's unfairly addicting. he'll listen to davey read anything, sometimes not even registering the plot in favor of listening to the rise and fall of davey's voice

davey wasn't touchy until he met jack. then he was like 'oh maybe physical touch does make sense as a love language' and there was no going back. they're sort of always touching, whether it's just their pinkies brushing or they're sitting on top of each other. jack's favorite is keeping his hand in the back pocket of davey's jeans, and davey likes to walk with two fingers hooked in jack's belt loop.

davey kisses all of jack's scars whenever he gets the chance.

jack kisses davey's freckles in the same way, if he's not using them to draw constellations.

canon era

jack's always tugging davey around by the tie. there's no stopping him.

jack blows all of his meager spare change on green paints and pastels because he wants to get the color of davey's eyes just right

even though jack's technically catholic, he finds himself obsessively trying to learn everything about judaism to be closer with davey. he wants to understand everything about davey's traditions, and there's something about the way davey lights up with love and passion as he explains his religion that makes jack fall a little bit more in love every time.

modern era

jack steals all of davey's clothes and davey is powerless when it comes to stopping him (he even steals the sweaters that he complains are nerdy, and davey pretends to be annoyed, but the sight of jack in his clothes is just... yeah)

jack learns how to brew tea just for davey and davey teaches himself all of the recipes jack's mamá used to make, even if they're too spicy for him and he gets a runny nose every time he makes one for dinner

davey, a polyglot, did not know spanish when he met jack. jack, fluent in spanish and english and nothing else, wonders how the hell his boyfriend (who fluently speaks languages as difficult as yiddish and polish) doesn't know spanish and takes it upon himself to teach davey. davey is so enamored by the gentle way in which jack teaches that he doesn't tell jack that he picked up spanish fluently about three months after dating him. when jack finds out years later, hell is raised-- but then the happiness he gets from being able to speak his native language with the man he loves the most outweighs any overdramatic feelings of betrayal

can you believe that isn't even it? these are just my favorite ones i could come up with off the top of my head.

thank you so much for the ask oml <3

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hi! Could you answer a question regarding your SAGAU world? How do Teyvatians, the Souverigns, and Celestia view the Creator? What are their stances when the real Creator hasn't left? Why do the Tsaritsa and Souverigns hate Celestia? I appreciate your work and effort in writing them, take your time.

Take care!

Hi!

Thanks for your kind words. And, of course, I can answer questions about SAGAU world.

Things to note! I have no intention to offend any real world religions. I didn't try to slander anyone or paint someone in a bad light.

One more thing. That "lore" are only relevant to Self-Aware BSD AU x SAGAU Crossover. Creator lore from Tired Creator AU is different. If the question was about Tired Creator AU, please, send that question in that blog.

__________

To the question.

__________

All groups worship Creator. However, all groups worship different aspects of a Creator.

Teyvatians and Sovereigns worship Creator themselves. They pray and make offerings to make Creator happy. And they will burn Teyvat, if they think, it will make Creator happy.

Celestia worship Creator's laws and rules. They want everyone to follow that rules. No exceptions, to breaking the rules. Creator gave them to Teyvat. People must respect them.

In a nutshell, Teyvatians and Sovereigns will shave a person’s head in order to present a wig from their hair to the Creator.

Celestia will put both a Treasure Hoarder (for stealing) and their victim (for hurting them), into a jail. Because Original Creator were kind, didn't like thieves and when people hit each other.

________

"You have begun to matter more

Then the things you say"

_________

That's why Tsaritsa and Sovereigns hate Celestia, and, in return, Celestia despise them.

To be fair, both sides have a point.

Celestia likes to get their noses into other's business and can be quite brutal, if they think someone is breaking Creator's laws. And their punishment will end in disproportion retribution (in Teyvatians' eyes).

Tsaritsa and Sovereigns are going overboard with their worshiping of Creator. Crucabena will offer House of Hearth children to be sacrificed to Creator. Sovereigns will enslave humans to train them into obedient servants of Creator.

When Fake Creator destroyed Celestia, Tsaritsa saw it as a sign of Creator's approval of their way of worship.

________

And, if Original Creator stayed in Teyvat... It won't end well.

Original Creator aren't a human. And I mean in a bad way. While non-human races from Teyvat (youkais, aranaras, melusines), vishaps, dragons, Sovereigns, abyssal monsters and even common monsters can understand human emotions and reasons. Original Creator can't do that.

They can't understand, why people wanted to do something, or why they will try to reach some goals.

But they still love their creations.

They are like a parent, who love their kid, who want them to have dreams, for them to follow that dreams. And who would hide all toy musical instruments, will edit music from any media and will make sure their child will never want to be a musician, because the parent can't see a purpose in being a musician, and are afraid for their child to end up as an addict and alcoholic.

Original Creator didn't want to rule over Teyvat. They wanted people to be free.

However, they would still look after them. They won't let Akasha be created, because they don't see a point in them.

Creator would change humans, taking away their ability to grief, because they won't understand, why people wanted to be sad.

One by one, Original Creator would take something important from humans. They would stall progress, emotionally cripple people.

All because they love their creations. In a very twisted, for a human, sort of way.

_______

Tag list: @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu @izzieg3987

[nynyhaha]

Thinking about the way Chrollo represents apathy and passion.

When I first saw him,he gave the impression of someone who is both very serious about his occupation and on some kind of mission,and someone who just lets things happen.

The reason he seemed so enigmatic compared to other troupe members is because we couldn’t grasp what he actually values, besides obviously the spider.This whole line of his about not caring for money,glory or fame.The fact that he sells the loot soon after stealing it.

It doesn’t make sense for a thief to be this indifferent towards the treasures he steals.And while the troupe risked their lives trying to steal from the auction,when things went wrong the loot was the last thing they considered.I always wondered what happened to all the boxes at their hideout.I hope they didn’t just leave it there??But it was never the main focus,

I think he occasionally finds something that fascinates him,just to discard it afterwards.It’s almost like he tries very hard to,excuse me, “fill the emptiness inside him”,with material possessions but is painfully aware that it’s not possible.The troupe are primarily known as thieves but it seems obtaining stuff can’t be that satisfying,at least not to Chrollo. Even if he tells everyone to “just steal” in his character song.

The scarlet eyes might’ve caught his attention at some point but again,he’s very dismissive of the whole kurta theme even when Kurapika demands some response.

So I don’t believe it’s greed that drives him.In fact,he doesn’t know what drives him.

And the reason he’s able to commit all those horrible deeds is because of his disconnection with PEOPLE. Being the leader,he’s somewhat set apart from the rest of the spiders.And there are rules that put the good of the organisation before the well-being of the members.That’s supposed to prevent members from caring as much for one another.Which is tragic.

It all only started because they all cared.

How are characters humanised in hunter x hunter? Trough forming bonds with other characters.

Killua and meruem are excellent examples.Both of them grew to care more about humans in general trough meeting a particular person.

Chrollo lost someone important and that very personal grief lead him to stop caring about human lives.Not just his own,but the ones of his fellow troupe members.

Obviously it didn’t work and they still feel very strongly for each other.The whole yorknew arc focuses on those repressed feelings of camaraderie that aren’t allowed to be experienced fully as that would interfere with the Spider.Pakunoda has to break the rules if she wants to save the life of her friend.

Chrollo can’t do that because the Spider with its rules is all he has.He’s very good at “severing ties” with things like living a save life,the authorities,possibly religion,connections with other people,seeing dead bodies as something to be respected and not as objects.He’s willing to give up everything that made him who he was,but what does he have in turn? Nothing.

The Spider needs to have a purpose but it seems that purpose is lost.Chrollo is lost,all his sacrifices lead to nothing.

He doesn’t even feel hate or anger at the world.He rarely takes things personally.

I think there was some revenge based reason for murdering the kurta clan.The troupe seem like they’d have some reason,even tho it could never be good enough.

But my thesis is that Chrollo’s biggest sin isn’t greed,pride,anger or whatever.It’s apathy.

Nothing prevents him from hurting people who have nothing to do with him,therefore he does.

He’s afraid that things will start mattering again,but at the same time we see him constantly searching for that something.He is scared of it,but he really strives to strive for something so that he can break out of this indifference he feels for everything.

So maybe Hisoka will awake some of this rage buried inside and with it make Chrollo once again seem like a very distressed human.

[wifelinkmtg]

There's "spaghetti western" and then there's whatever the hell this Chef Boyardee shit is

Hello! and welcome back to Wifelink. We're talking about Outlaws of Thunder Junction today, Magic's second product in a row set in a version of Nevada, and let me tell you something: I am not impressed. The mechanics are uninspired, the setting is undercooked, the story is overstuffed, and to top it all off the whole thing smacks of settler-colonialism. AND they yassified Vraska, the monsters!

WE WILL GET TO THE HOT WOMEN, BELIEVE YOU ME, BUT FIRST I AM GOING TO COMPLAIN SOMEWHAT, AS IS MY RIGHT AS AN AMERICAN, AS A HUMAN BEING, AND AS A GAMER

The mechanics we've discussed elsewhere, and I will skim over the main storyline except to say that very few of this Big Villain Heist Team-Up gets enough spotlight to justify their inclusion here beyond getting recognizable names on cards, and that Rakdos' presence on the plane alone ought to be an apocalyptic calamity. I appreciate Jace & Vraska going full blackpilled accelerationist, stealing a baby, and aiming to destroy the multiverse & start over (a novel hybrid of Raising Arizona and Doctor Strangelove,) but I also know, sure as the sun rises, that whatever happens with their villain arc will be a underwhelming let-down.

What I actually want to complain about, though, is the setting. Thunder Junction ain't real, and I don't mean it's fictional, I mean it's plywood facades on a backlot. It's the set for a cowboy film. You feel me? This ain't a plane, it's a god damned sound stage.

Lemme go over the facts: we know Thunder Junction has been settled for a bit over a year. A year! - and yet there's multiple towns, multiple railways, and an honest-to-god metropolis. Less than two years and we already have ghost towns! This is not the product of a bunch of people on various planes all individually deciding to seek a new life in the off-world colonies. All of this represents a staggering quantity of people, material, wealth, and labor, being moved between planes, directed and organized - but by whom? For what reason? How, even? The story is totally uninterested in these questions.

One of the few silver linings to the way the Phyrexian invasion storyline ended was that the Omenpaths had a lot of interesting potential! Different planes would come into direct contact with each other for the first time ever! Different technologies, different philosophies and religions, different kinds of magic colliding, coming into conflict, adapting and adjusting to each other. And after a couple of sets where the interplanar contact was limited to one or two particularly adventurous individuals, we finally get to see what interplanar contact at scale looks like here in Thunder Junction... and it just looks like a John Wayne flick. Did people not bring their culture with them? Is there a big rack of hats and boots and dusters right where people step off the Omenpath? Shuck off those old Ravnican rags, kid, get changed. You'll spoil the aesthetic. I mean, it's baffling.

Luxurious Locomotive (art by Leon Tukker). This is one of the few man-made parts of this plane that I can look at and know where it came from: this is a Kaladeshi design. More of this sort of thing would have made Thunder Junction feel more like a real place and less like a Sergio Leone joint.

There's a side story, No Tells, by Isaac Fellman, which I quite like actually: it's about guilt and betrayal and the inevitable regrets of having moved into a queer housing co-op, and one of the things that makes it great is that we know where Yuma came from (New Capenna), we know why he left (the limitations of "be gay do crimes" as praxis under capitalism), and we know what he brought to Thunder Junction with him (cocktails, pool tables, and his co-op's emergency funds). Fellman has written nothing else for Wizards and doesn't play Magic, and even so he's done more to make Thunder Junction feel like a real place situated in a real history than the rest of the story team combined - which goes to show, one, that we should only let trans people write magic story for the next decade or so, and two, that what I'm asking for in terms of worldbuilding is not unattainable, or even that difficult.

And all of this ties into the colonialism, right? Thunder Junction is being colonized, and asking questions about who benefits, who's sponsoring this breakneck settlement of the plane, what they're after and so forth would require the story to take a good hard look at the process of colonization itself, and Wizards is flatly unwilling to engage with anything that thorny in their products. So, just as Ixalan involved a limp-wristed slant reenactment of the Spanish conquest of the Americas - but it's fine because they're the bad guys and they're technically not even trying to colonize Ixalan and they don't win anyway so no one gets hurt! - Thunder Junction is attempting to present a Disneyland version of Western colonialism. Untamed wilderness! Bringing civilization to uninhabited deserts! How cool and heroic these hard frontiersmen and -women are! I'm told they brought in Navajo cultural consultants for the Atiin, a fantasy equivalent, and I hope those folks were well compensated! The Atiin seem cool, and the one Atiin character we spend any time with is well-written, but the Atiin are not indigenous to Thunder Junction. They're not being colonized. And if there weren't anybody being colonized, I'd probably still dislike the colonial vision of a wild land inhabited only by animals, just waiting for us to shape it to our will with railways and violence, but there is in fact a native race of sapients on Thunder Junction, and these cactus folk get no voice in the story, so if they have some kind of opinion on the rapid colonization of their home and the clear-cutting of their cactus forests, we don't get to hear about it.

Prickly Pair (art by Brian Valeza) Too much of the extremely-limited presence Thunder Junction's only indigenous sapients have on the cards is devoted to cactus-based puns like this one, which is pretty distasteful given, you know, the colonialism.

I'm talking about colonialism not because I think that replicating colonial myths in fantasy fiction is an unethical thing to do - although it is - but because you can see, right, that Thunder Junction's lack of verisimilitude is intertwined with the colonial vision of the world at play here, yeah? The story wants to have cool cowboy shootouts and train robberies and it does not want its cowboy fantasy to be complicated by uncomfortable realities, so it has to avoid all of the basic worldbuilding questions that would tell us who the colonization benefits and how they're profiting off the plane, and in the end we're left with nothing but an empty aesthetic, like a duster hanging off a scarecrow, blowing in the wind.

ANYWAY SO WOMEN

To be honest, under the circumstances I'm not really feeling like giving the fine women of Thunder Junction my usual more elaborate treatment, so we're going to lightning-round this shit, which is at least thematic.

Blood Hustler (art by Anna Pavleeva)

Vampire MILF.

Rattleback Apothecary (art by Loïc Canavaggia)

Snake MILF.

Wrangler of the Damned (art by Michal Ivan)

Cis lesbian haircut, good with a rope.

Obeka, Splitter of Seconds (art by Ryan Pancoast)

BIG

[traegorn]

Hey-o! Tis the season for people to talk about how the holidays were "actually pagan" and I'm on the hunt for sources about how that's really not the case, if you have any you'd recommend!

Okay, so the problem is there are so many weird "Christmas is stolen!" bullshit memes going around, it's so hard to just give you a comprehensive list of sources. Christmas celebrations have evolved as the religion has spread, and different things come from different times...

The key here is to go for academic sources. This is a question of history, and a well supported historical research is going to tell you whether they're operating from primary, secondary or tertiary sources.

So while I can't give you a simple list, let me give you a couple of examples off the top of my head and give you tips on how to investigate any the dumb claims that get passed around.

Christmas being in December: So a lot of people go for the "Christmas is in December so it can steal from [INSERT SOLSTICE CELBRATION]" is ahistorical... because we know exactly why Christmas is in December. Because the guys who made the decision argued with each other and left behind written documentation. The two big names you need to look up are  Clement of Alexandria (who pitched January 6th) and Hippolytus of Rome (who proposed December 25th). This is around the turn of the third century, and you can find both of their writings. Some folks have questioned the authenticity of some of Hippolytus of Rome's writings, but Clement of Alexandria's seem well supported. These were internal arguments about when the birth of Christ took place within the early church, and when they settled on late December. There are reasons for this, and you can read their arguments (it largely has to do with the importance of when Jesus was conceived -- they wanted that to be an important date and then added nine months to it). Importantly though, because linear time is a thing, this means Christmas was set in December before the Christianization of the Germanic and Norse tribes... so anyone who says Christmas was set to December to correspond with Yule doesn't understand the concept of "coincidences."

The Christmas Tree: The Christmas tree was invented in 16th century Germany. That's... that's just written down all over the place. Now, there are legends about Martin Luther being the first who did it -- but I'm pretty certain that's just an embellishment that got added on. There are preceding traditions where part of an evergreen was brought into the home as a part of solstice traditions (though some will claim the Egyptians did this? Which is wild -- likely misinterpreting their use of palm fronds as the same thing), but the act of taking a whole ass tree, cutting it down, putting it in your house, and decorating it? That's 16th century Germany all the way. You can rabbit hole so many sources on that one, but honestly just pick apart the citations on the Wikipedia page. Putting a branch in your house and dragging a whole tree in are very different acts.

Jesus's story is copied from [INSERT RANDOM GOD]: There are so many of these, and some are just downright disrespectful to major world religions (the Krishna version of the meme especially). The answer is... just see if what the meme is saying about the god is supported by the mythology. Like I've seen ones that says Dionysus was "born of a virgin." If you know anything about the Greek gods, you're probably already laughing on the floor. Horus gets dragged into this too, because Gerald Massey was trying to pull a "White Goddess but with Dudes." But any serious research on Horus will tell you the supposed parallels aren't supported by the mythology.

So sorry, this wasn't so much sources you can use as it is how to look for them to begin with. Because there's just so, so much. This isn't even covering cases of syncretism, where pre-existing cultural traditions got continued post-Christianization. Because it's almost always the case that if a pre-Christian practice endured post Christianization, it's because people decided to keep doing it -- not because the church was trying to "steal" it. The latter means there was some mustache twirling plan behind it, when the former means (usually) the church went "Well, they're paying their tithes and saying it's for Jesus, so who gives a shit?"

I'm just going to finish this off with linking to my podcast episode on this, along with Ocean Keltoi's great Yule video on the topic. Hopefully that helps.

[sailorspica]

blorboscope: sir crocodile

disclaimer: this is my methodology, so i'm just sharing the depth of delusion i indulge in to write about characters with thinly-developed canon backstories. some of this will come up in the stars have all gone, my selfshippy x reader story.

the most visible planet in crocodile's chart is mars ♂, which is detrimented as a part of three-planet libra stellium. (mars ♂ hates being in venus' ♀ signs and vice versa.) this tells the story of his chart concisely: the odds are often against him, three planets are undignified, but mitigated by the aspects they form to benefics or other points. in the case of mars ♂, it conjoins venus ♀ in domicile. the first thing people see with him is smoke from his cigar, fire, hot and dry, utterly marsian.

his sun ☉ and moon ☽ are in his ninth and second houses. the ninth house is about seeking. it's a pirate house i would want significant in any one piece chart, associated with long-distance travel, religion, and academia, going to great lengths and spending a lot of time in search of truth. he dreamt of being pirate king, once; he witnessed gol d. roger's execution firsthand. but when he sheds that idealism, he doesn't stop seeking something elusive, the weapon pluton, and he respects or at least reaps the expertise that robin brings, because what virgo wouldn't? his sun ☉ rules his eighth house, and since i adhere closer to medieval astrology, i don't fuck around: this house means death, and wealth acquired through death. he accomplishes his seeking through violence, stealing the throne of alabasta, inciting war between two forces to "cleanse" the nation for his vision.

his second house aquarius moon ☽ finds comfort in materiality, nice clothes and fine cigars, but trade "comfort" for security and we see how he guarded his identity in baroque works, and the secret poison of his hook. it's a paranoia that luffy proves isn't unfounded, because despite having a logia type devil fruit, crocodile knows he isn't invincible, despite his pride. his moon ☽ also opposes saturn ♄, so this need to feel protected is a type of stubborn self-sufficiency he must have learned young, not by choice. saturn ♄ is about drawing boundaries and creating structure, and considering saturn ♄'s detriment in leo, all it can do is erect walls around its one contact, the moon ☽. not out of fear, necessarily, but he doesn't trust easily and knows it, articulating as much to robin and mihawk.

speaking of robin and mihawk, the moon ☽ rules his seventh house (cancer), which is the house of partnerships. classically speaking, a spouse, but applied to close friends and business partners nowadays. crocodile's partner should understand his second house needs are not shallow, not greed, not wealth for wealth's sake, but rooted in self-protection.

the moon ☽ also trines venus within his libra stellium, creating a grand trine through the air signs (grand trine, grand line) with jupiter ♃ in aquarius. i relate to this hard. he prides himself on his intellect, but there's a detachment from feeling and really connecting to other people here. it's not that he doesn't feel—look at how he shouts at whitebeard—but his assessment in alabasta that "love for the country will destroy the country" is both stone-cold and correct. of course he doesn't particularly care for vivi's feelings, but this is so such an airy smugness that deserves a sock in the mouth.

his chart ruler saturn ♄ is in his eighth house, the death house, and detrimented in leo. i touched on saturn ♄ when discussing the moon ☽ since they oppose each other, but consider leo. his pride is his armor against expressing his real wants. he wants to lead a military nation or criminal organization because he's so great and so strong and deserves to, not because of those gooey, lunar, second house reasons of he is afraid of something. it stands to reason he lost his hand either before he got his devil fruit, or losing his hand is how he learned about his vulnerability to water. i forget which marine said this, probably akainu, but logia types think they're untouchable, but not crocodile. how better to protect yourself than building a military around you?

susan tompkins says moon ☽-saturn ♄ aspects belie growing up too fast, either having no mother or a distant mother, becoming self-sufficient at an early age. 48 is quite young. we don't hear about him as a rookie pirate under some captain. he's never trusted anyone, and despite baroque works and cross guild, only has himself at the end of the day. paired with a tenth-house libra stellium, saturn ♄ in leo in such a public-facing house kind of shows he doesn't let himself have an interior life, and if he does, he doesn't let anyone see. interior matters, personal feelings find their fulfillment in his public renown. this is why he's so truly humiliated by the cross guild situation. he doesn't have anything but his pride.

the stellium: mercury ☿ rules his sixth and ninth house; he measures everything by strength like any shounen villain. venus ♀ is the only dignified planet in his chart and rules his tenth and fifth houses; it's the charisma to him that let him hold onto his warlord status and trick alabasta. he's actually a creator of beautiful lies and quite an aesthete who hates garishness, hates excess like doflamingo's or buggy's tastes. and lastly, this detrimented mars ♂ rules his fourth and eleventh houses. he doesn't really have a home an doesn't really have friends he sees as equals... until mihawk.

jupiter ♃ is also detrimented in gemini, his 6th house; jupiter ♃ doesn't like mercury ☿'s signs and vice versa (essential dignity is easy to remember if you know your sailor moon ☽ yuri!). i think this is typified in the friction between him and dreamers like luffy and buggy. in cross guild, buggy calls him (and mihawk) out on a lack of ambition, or scaling ambition down to more pragmatic business ventures. his jupiter ♃ once had big dreams of being pirate king, but gemini has stifled it to the more doable uh... coup d'etat? but that's not what jupiter ♃ is for! the part of him that i swear, i swear is moved by buggy's speech about going after the one piece is jupiter ♃'s trine to venus ♀. jupiter ♃ rules two cadent houses for him, the 12th and 3rd; he's really lost touch with this planet. if only a sunrise pisces came into his life...

interestingly, operation utopia's goal of building a military nation to challenge the world government is not all that different from the revolutionary army's. if anything it's much more organized, material, and mercurial ☿—both his virgo sun ☉ and gemini jupiter ♃ at work. but where does this vision come from, and is it actually any less fantastic than finding the one piece? as for its biggest contact, susan tompkins describes moon ☽-jupiter ♃ aspects as the impulse to "play god." i think nationbuilding, dreaming of utopia is an act of playing god, a sense of "i know best" that doesn't see or care how much of an asshole he's being manipulating other people's lives toward his own ends.

mentioned and not mentioned sources:

aspects in astrology by susan tompkins

astrology and the authentic self by demetra george

on the heavenly spheres by helena avelar and luis ribeiro