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13as07 · 17 days

Text

Jashin’s Angel

(Hidan)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to MauroIllustrator]

Requested by: @reincarnatedornotimfucked

Word Count: 3,995

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

I learn the most unneeded shit for some of my fics

Also a lot of my fics involve sleeping. Maybe it's a sign I need to sleep more

Tad bit unhinged

Threats/talk of death

Toxic Religious Themes

———————————————————————

My eyes roll over the heap of bedding and limbs curled up on my bed. It's weird, seeing someone using my bed after leaving it untouched for so long. I've always insisted Pain remove it from my room since it has no use. All it does is take up space but I guess it's a good thing it wasn't removed.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself. Usually, I sharpen my scythe or pray to Jashin while the others sleep. Occasionally, I sit outside or walk the forest edges with Itachi since it seems he doesn't need sleep either. Despite all that, I can't bring myself to leave the room in search of my fellow nocturnal member. Or to perform either of my usual nightly habits. What if it wakes her?

What do I care if it wakes her? She fell asleep in my room, if my routine wakes her, it's her fault.

My eyes scan the darkness, searching for the place I left my scythe as I make my mental checklist. Scythe, stone, water, sandpaper, rag. I repeat the list to myself, slowly collecting the items, and leaving them to rest on my desk.

I'm moving slowly because I want to, because there's no point rushing around, that is all. I freeze when my scythe clicks against the floor because I want to, because I want to prepare for any complaint or bitching that might have followed. No other reason.

I need to head toward the kitchen to collect my bowl of water, then I can sharpen my weapon. Unlike before, I stall in front of my bedroom door, my hand resting on the handle. I turn to the side, sights wandering my bed, the red bedsheets that have never been used before tonight, and the unhidden snip bits of the woman sleeping in it.

The longer I look at her, the longer I think about leaving her alone in my room, the more uneasy I get. My stomach feels upset like it did that time Kakuzu and I had bad sushi. It feels like I'm shaking to the point that my eyes glance at the door handle to make sure I'm not. My heart thumps against my chest too, harder than it ever has, an annoying reminder that I am not a God like Jashin. The longer I stare, the more irritated I get, and the more I believe something will happen to her while I'm away.

What do I care if something happens to her? It would be a waste of a sacrifice, yes, but she is not irreplaceable. It would be even better if someone attacked her while I was away. That would mean I had more sacrifices to offer my God.

I finally push the handle down, letting my door creak open. I turn my head again, checking on her - because I want to pick a fight, not because I care if the sound woke her. Sadly, there will be no fight, seeing how she doesn't even stir in her sleep.

I let out a sigh, of annoyance, as I walk out of my room. The further I walk away from my room, the more sick my stomach feels. Maybe something was wrong with the food Kakuzu and I brought back to the hideout today. I'm sure that's what it is.

I move quickly around the kitchen, eager to get back to my room. To see if my gut is right, that's why. I want to see if there is an unwanted person within the walls of the hideout. I want to see if I have another sacrifice for Jashin. That is all.

My walk back to my room is as irritating as walking out of my room was. If I move too fast the bowl of water will spill, leaving me out of my room longer. I will miss my extra sacrifice, the extra offering to my God. That is why I'm so eager to get back to my room, why I'm so annoyed that I filled the bowl too full.

I open my door slowly, so the water doesn't spill, not so I don't wake her. Like I said before, she fell asleep in my room. If I wake her, it's her fault. She should sleep in her room, that's what it's there for.

When my attention falls on my bed again, I don't feel sick anymore. I bet she's a witch, one that places a curse on me. I shall ask Jashin to rid me of her curse.

I settle the bowl on the desk, glancing at the inconvenience in my bed once again. Still, no fight brewing, what a waste. As much of a waste as my bed and her taking up space in my room. In the morning I shall tell her I will present her with death if she falls asleep in my bed ever again.

I place myself in the chair by my desk, letting the stone soak in water as I wipe down the blade of my scythe. As is work, I notice myself slowly inching toward my bed, toward the woman sleeping in my sheets. I'm interested in what sleep is, that is the reason I wish to be close to her, to watch what it is to sleep.

She will die, in the morning. She can be my next sacrifice. A good one at that. That is why I'm drawn toward her so often because Jashin wishes to have her.

I repeat the words - and my actions - as I sit next to my bed, spending the passing hours watching the night slowly bleed into the day. Watching the way the sunrise dances across her skin, the way it makes her hair glow.

Yes, she's an angel, one of Jashin's. That is why He wants her back. His angel escaped His heavens and lost her way upon her path. I do not blame Him for wanting her back. As soon as she wakes, I'll return her to Jashin, I'll give back what is His.

As the yellow of the sun starts to seep into the blue of the sky, she stirs. Her limbs move slowly like they haven't been oiled in a long time. A delicate wrist shifts upward, glowing beautifully in the sunlight as she rubs her eyes. It looks fragile like I could snap it without thinking, like my scythe could slice through it easier than water. Seeing her like this makes it hard to believe she's survived with the Akatsuki this long, that she spends her time among murderers and assassins, and that Pain's pet isn't a kitten.

"Hidan?" Her voice slides out. It's jagged, not as smooth but still as soft as it is during the day.

I'm going to rid the Earth of this witch that curses me with sickness, this freeloader that finds root in my bed, the dead weight clinging to the leader of the Akatsuki -

"Good morning. I'm sorry I fell asleep in your bed. I didn't mean to." Her voice cuts my thoughts off, her words wrapping themselves around my lungs and squeezing them.

- but not this morning. Perhaps I'll return her to Jashin this afternoon.

"Good morning," I echo, climbing to my feet. "Did you sleep well, Angel?" The word slips out before I can stop it, my voice being the one to strangle my lungs now.

Her head tilts, making the curtain of hair slide across her face. Her pink dusted, teeth grinned face. "Better than I have in a while."

"Why is that?"

"Because your bed smells like you."

I change my mind, I'm going to kill her after breakfast.

————————————

I'm irritable today, and it only seems to get worse every time Pain touches Jashin's angel. I am not a man of science, I completely offer myself to my religion. Still, even I know how genetics work, and the longer I look at the two of them, the less similar they seem.

Is that why you're here, Jashin's Angel? Because a member of blood is in charge of all of us? Or is he your life partner? Do you love him? Why do you love such a person like Pain? Because his eyes search for you in every room? Because he pats your head when he finds you? Because the only time he smiles is when he speaks to you? If another performed those actions, would you love them too? Is mortal love that shallow? Does it waiver so much easier than my love for Jashin?

Pain's sights cross mine, his eyes freezing over when he figures out where I'm staring. His hand slithers up, wrapping around his pet's eyes, cutting off my view of their sparkle. He tilts her head back, making her neck extend. I swear the sun makes her skin shimmer like stones in a river.

I don't understand my Lord. Is this a test of my loyalty to you or a reward for my dedication? Perhaps my earlier thoughts were right. Perhaps she is a witch using spells to mess with my functions, my thoughts. Or perhaps she's a talented shinobi, able to use justus most cannot, just like Pain.

Pain, who has Jashin's Angel pressed against him, who has his hand around her eyes, has her head on his shoulder, whose lips are whispering things into her ear. Pain who I want to tear into pieces for myself, and not for Jashin. Pain who finally lets the wingless Angel go.

Her eyes aren't shiny like before, they're rather dull, a milked color from whatever he was telling her. Her smile is present, as always, but it doesn't affect me like it did this morning. No. This morning I wanted to cut the smile off of her face for the way it made me feel, but now? Now it makes me want to hurt Pain, makes me want to figure out what he said to dull the Heavens that seep for the Angel's being.

"I'm going on a walk," she starts, the noise in the room instantly falling mute. "I hope you all return safely from your missions." She bows her head, her hair curling around her again, and somehow picking up every ray of sun. 'Thank you's spill from the room as she stands straight, her smile different once again, just a drop of the one I saw this morning present in the one she's wearing.

She leaves the room, unlike usual, without Pain following her nor him waving Kakuzu after her; his silent command to my partner to watch his pet from the shadows as she adventurous outside 'alone'.

The longer she's gone without Kakuzu being sent after her, the harder it is to breathe. Again, this time it's different from this morning. It's not the lightheaded lack of air I felt when she wished me a good morning. It's... just different. It's the lack of air I felt leaving her alone in my room.

I don't care if she gets attacked, if she lives or dies, but it would be a waste of a sacrifice. If she is one of His angels, it might upset Him if a non-believer killed her. Yes. That's why I am uneasy about the situation. That is all, nothing else.

Once again, I do not understand my Lord. Why is Pain sending her alone? No one leaves the hideout alone, not even Pain. I do not understand what I am supposed to do. Have I been sent here to kill her? Or am I here to protect her? I need a sign, a hint in the direction you wish for me to follow. I do not understand. Please, Jashin.

I let out a soft sigh, finally pulling my eyes away from the exit, and letting them settle on the window outside. Perched on a branch is an oval-shaped bird. Its face marked with round eyes and almost horn-like feathers gives way to what it is; an owl, out in the daylight. I guess you can't be any more clear, can you, Jashin?

I go to move, my mind set on my orders to protect the Angel, but I'm stopped before I can even stand. Kakuzu's hand is wrapped around the arm of my chair, keeping it - and me - in place. He leans toward me, most of his focus still on the words Pain is saying. "It's a trap," he husks out, tone low and his body not daring to move even an inch.

"What?"

"It's a trap," he repeats, slowly letting go of my chair. "If you leave the meeting, he will use it to justify killing you, or as close to killing as you can get. He will spin it as you lacking loyalty," Kakuzu says, the words spilling out like slime from his mouth.

"Why?"

"He does not take kindly to his... Dearest getting attached to someone other than him."

I think over Kakuzu's words for a moment, my eyes locked on the Owl still perched outside. Jashin, I cannot follow after your Angel this time. I can't protect her if I am not around, please forgive me.

————————————

I'm tucked around the corner from the open door, sitting in one of the shadows, my eyes locked on the Angel as she sits on the porch. Her hair is down, lightly swirling around because of the breeze running through it. It's going to the storm, but despite the greying air and the dark clouds in the sky, she still seems to glow. Maybe my Lord's Heavens does seep from her body.

"You're creeping me out," she says, her words carried backward by the breeze, catching me off guard. "You have been, all afternoon. Come sit or go find someone else to peep on."

Slowly I leave the darkness I failed to hide in, letting the sun envelope me the same way it doesn't her. I stand behind her, careful not to touch her in fear of Jashin becoming unhappy, in fear of her bursting into a pile of feathers before she leaves me for the Lord's Heavens.

"Phillipa - the owl that sleeps in the old dying tree," she starts, tilling her head up so her words reach me better. "He's very active this morning."

"Phillipa?"

She hums a yes, nodding her head a bit in agreement. "It's a foreigner's name. One from across the seas. I read it in a book once and thought it sounded cool when Pain said it."

That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard. "I don't understand you mortals," I mumble, scanning the tree branches for this 'Phillipa', my hand buried in my hair so I can scratch my head. My Lord, your Angel is not the smartest person you've crossed my path with.

"What don't you understand about us?"

"Why you bother naming an owl, especially a name such as that. It's a waste naming something that's going to die so soon."

A soft "hmph" exits her lips, her head tilting to the side instead of being tilted towards me. "I guess you and Nag - er - Pain have a lot more in common than I thought."

"I don't understand." I'm starting to get ticked off with the day. It seems there's not much happening today I do understand.

"Hidan? Do you know my name?"

"No."

"No one does, not even Pain. He never bothered naming me. He's just always called me Dearest, since the very beginning."

Maybe my thoughts from earlier were wrong, maybe she is Pain's blood. That's what she's making it seem like. "Oh."

�� "I'm sorry," she whispers, her head snapping to the left. Angel is suddenly perky, her eyes scanning the hidden path that leads to the main paths of the forest.

"For what?" I ask, my eyes flickering between her and the area she's locked in so intensely.

"My brother's attempt at a trap this morning. He's quite upset I fell asleep in your bed last night. Give it a few days and he'll be back to normal again."

They are blood, and for whatever reason, it gives me that lightheaded airlessness from this morning. "There is something else I do not understand."

"What might that be?" Angel asks, balling herself up, knees to chest, and arms around her legs. Her eyes are still stuck on the edge of the forest. What might it be that has her so entranced?

"Why are you here? You do not go on missions, you do not work, you do not do house chores, and it seems you are not Pain's life partner, at least not an appropriate one. Why is it that Pain keeps you around?"

"Because we're family."

"That is not an answer!" I bark at her, my temper quickly slipping from my grasp. I hate this Angel you have sent me Jashin. She makes me sick, she makes it hard to breathe, she makes me feel lost, and she confuses me. I do not understand my Lord. What is it that you could see in her? What is it that you see me needing her for?

Her position doesn't change from my yelling or me fuming behind her. Her eyes don't even blink. "I'd be careful yelling. He doesn't take too kindly to people that raise their voices at me."

"Who?"

"Me." The single word sends shivers down my spine, Pain's low voice being the main cause of it, and his closeness to my ear being the backup cause. Forgive me for my anger towards you, Jashin, and please grant me the ability to survive whatever I'm about to be put through.

"Hidan?" His Angel calls again, her voice feeling like a cure to some of the dread-filled anticipation brewing in my veins. "Love."

"What?"

"The answer to your question. It's love. My brother keeps me around because he loves me."

"No, I don't," Pain grumbles, his hand gripping the back of my neck, fingernails digging into my skin.

Angel's cure no longer works as I'm being dragged backward, but still, she's the last thing I see before the door slams closed. Please Jashin, forgive me for my anger and help me survive the actions about to be taken against me so I can continue learning from and watching over your Angel.

————————————

Being buried alive hasn't been all that bad. It's given me a lot of time to talk to Jashin. A lot. It's also given me a lot of time to think about... Jashin's Angel.

Maybe I'm reading into it too much. Maybe it's all been a coincidence. Maybe my thoughts are just my disconnection from Jashin since I haven't been able to make a sacrifice in... a while. Maybe. I don't know how long I've been down here. Long enough to make my stomach grumble. Perhaps Pain will succeed at killing me.

What about His Angel though? What is His plan for us? She doesn't talk much. Most of the time I'm not even sure she's breathing. She doesn't even have a name. Even I have a name. That is something everybody has. Perhaps Dearest is her name. Tell me, Angel, are you Jashin's Dearest too?

The sound of shifting dirt rattles through the small space Pain left me with. It's not an uncommon sound, I've come to learn. I have thought about the cause of the noise for a while too; footsteps over me, the Earth adjusting itself, animals catching my scent and attempting to dig me up, shovels.

Shovels? The curved metal end of a shovel pokes through the dirt, barely an inch away from my face. Who's on the other side? Pain? Kakuzu? Jashin? The next time the shovel digs into the Earth, the end of it knocks into my nose, sending a small river of blood down my cheek. Definitely Kakuzu.

"Be more careful you old bastard!" I yell, shifting myself around to help him dig me out. It doesn't take long before I can pop out of the Earth, the soil spilling out of my hair and tumbling back to the ground. "What took you so damn long to find me?" I grumble, shaking my hair and my clothes to help more excess dirt fall off of me.

"I had to talk Itachi into letting me borrow his crow."

My focus sticks on the ground, the voice answering my question most definitely not being Kakuzu. Slowly, I lift my head, the recently common lightheaded airlessness filling my chest. Standing in front of me is Jashin's Angel, wrapped up in her white bedroom robe. Very unfitting to play in the dirt, but certainly helps her look even more like an Angel. Curled in her shadows with its hair standing on end is very much not a crow.

"Calm down. It's just a transformation jutsu," she mutters, dropping her hands into the release sign. A puff of clouds wraps around the beast, Itachi's crow appearing once the air clears the space. "Crows aren't exactly known for being able to track scents."

"I thought you were Kakuzu."

She rolls her eyes, tapping her shoulder like I've seen Itachi do. The crow happily flaps his wings, gently landing on Angel's shoulder before rubbing its beak against her cheek. "My bad, would you like me to fetch your Prince Charming for you?" Perhaps she talks more than I thought. I shake my head no, somehow more dirt falls out of my hair. "Then stop complaining."

I slowly climb to my feet, letting myself hover closer to her than usual. The ends of her robe are filthy, as are her house slippers, both cakes in bed. A bag catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. My eyes flicker between the bag and the Angel as I try to piece the situation together. It's a big bag and a heavy one from what it seems. Is that why Itachi's crow was a beast instead of just a dog? "What's with the bag?"

"My brother is a psychopath. Well... you all are psychopaths."

"What does that have to do with the bag?"

"It's my apology present from Pain. For using me. As a pawn. Because he doesn't like you."

"The bag... is a present... that is here with us."

"Of course not, dumbie. What's in the bag was my apology present. I have no use for him and he cannot live after being around the Akatsuki, so I figured he could be of use to you. There's also a sandwich in there for you but it's probably crushed," she mutters the last part, turning in a slow circle before looking at the bird perched on her shoulder.

After a moment or two, the crow takes off from her shoulder, flying low enough to be in her sights and paced enough for her to peacefully walk behind it. "Come back or don't. The choice is yours," she adds on, lifting the hood of her robe, the material perfectly flowing down to rest on her head before she turns away, starting her trip back to the hideout.

I watch her walk away until she's shielded by the darkness and the branches of the forest. Even then I look after her for a moment. What - I guess it would be who - is it that you have regifted to me, Angel? I bend down, carefully unzipping the bag left stranded on the ground by her. As promised, a cloth-wrapped meal is awaiting me, sitting on top of the stomach of a very awake man.

Pinned to the cloth is a note in neat loopy handwriting. Sacrifice, in case you couldn't figure that out on your own. What a thoughtful Angel Jashin has led across my path.

I can feel the corners of my mouth turning up, because of the sacrifice I'm going to make, because of the muffled screams and begs from the man I'm about to kill, no other reason.

#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #hidan x reader #hidan oneshot #hidan

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goosegoblin · 4 months

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I tried looking for some advice/opinions about this on reddit, but couldn't find anyone going through a similar situation.

my boyfriend and I are getting serious. he's a wonderful guy, but he's a religion/ethnicity that is considered to be directly against mine. neither of us are religious or have any conflicts within the relationship. my parents like him too. however, my parents are immigrants and their entire community and social circle from the last few decades is people within my religion. as my boyfriend and I have been getting more serious, they've been getting more and more worried about the backlash, criticism, and mockery they might face from their community. it's easy to say that they should make new friends, but this is all they know.

I don't plan on living near them for long, so I won't face this myself. I'm worried that I'm being selfish for choosing my boyfriend. they don't ask me to break up with him because they see how happy he makes me and how much healthier my life is. but I really worry for them.

it's not fair for me to hold the burden of their relationships and friendships, but at the same time, am I a terrible daughter for continuing to be with someone that could cause them a lot of pain, ridicule, and possibly isolation?

should I bite the bullet and end my relationship before more people get hurt? my parents have given me everything and I love them so dearly. but I really can see a wonderful and loving future with my boyfriend. I don't want to hurt my parents, but I don't want to regret not giving my relationship its best chance. I'm so torn and it's really been eating me up lately :/

Hi OP- sorry for the delay in replying to this.

I'll start by saying that I don't have experience in this area, so if anyone knows more than me or feels the advice I'm giving is bad or harmful, please do step in and say!

The only thing I am fully confident in saying is that you are not a bad person and you are not a bad daughter. You are allowed to love who you love. Other people will always judge you for things, in a myriad of ways at a myriad of times. It is unfortunate that your relationship may make things harder for your parents, but that is not a good reason to deprive yourself of the things and people you love. Do not let hate be stronger than love.

I don't think your parents are silly for having the concerns they do, and I absolutely will not minimise their experiences and fears. My partner's family are immigrants and I know a huge part of their social circle is people from the same background/ country of origin. It would be incredibly hard for them to lose that. I can only imagine how hard that idea of losing valued friends must be for your parents, especially when you take into consideration the racism/ xenophobia they may have faced living in a country that they were not born in, and how much support and comfort they may have gotten from their current social circle.

But at the same time, a form of support that would exile members because one of their children dated someone from an opposing religion is a very conditional form of support. There is a part of me that wants to say "anyone who would abandon a friend because of who their child chooses to date is not a friend worth having", and whilst I understand it's somewhat dismissive, I do think there's truth there.

I notice a lot of language like 'may' in your message. Is it possible the people in your parents' lives may be more forgiving or understanding than they anticipate? It's easy to dwell on what if it goes badly, but I think it's worth acknowleding that it's not guaranteed. It could go well! It could go average. We can't predict how other people respond to our actions; all we can control is our own actions, and how we take steps to shape our own lives.

It is okay to want things. It is okay to want people. It is okay to live your life for yourself, and not to please others. It is okay to make choices to maximise your own joy even though others disapprove. You do not need to live in shame or grief or guilt or turmoil. I promise.

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broomsick · 3 months

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🌞 🥂 ⭐ 🧭 for the polytheist and pagan ask game!

Thank you so much for the ask!

🌞 - Which deity(ies) are you closest to/do you worship the most often?

The answer to this has changed a lot over time, and will likely change again. I have worked closely with Skaði, Óðinn and Loki in the past. For the past two-three years or so, I have mainly worshipped Yngvi- Freyr, Baldr and Thórr! All Gods have been a joy for me to worship, but I feel I have developped an especially close bond with Freyr and Baldr. Within the heathen circles I am active in, I have earned myself the nickname Freysgoði, meaning priest of Freyr. The name is a nod to the Icelandic saga character Hrafnkell Freysgoða, whose patron God was famously Lord Freyr.

🥂 - What is your favorite devotional act or offering to give?

Tough question! All acts of devotion are enjoyabel to me. I love to dedicate prayer readings and songs, as well as to sacrifice offerings into a bonfire. I often do the latter in honor of Yngvi-Freyr, generally at the beginning and at the end of the harvest season. Devotional toasts and the ritual pouring of alcohol is also a personal favorite, due to its established historical roots!

⭐ - What is something you wish people outside your practice knew more about?

I have answered this question already in the previous ask, so I will now come up with another answer! After all, there is much I wish non-pagans, or non-heathens knew about the heathen path.

Something I feel I must say is that yes, norse paganism has earned itself a bad reputation, thanks to highly conservative, folkist groups. It's a heartbreaking fact, but one that should drive us to fight even harder against prejudice and hate. Especially considering the large amount of LGBTQ+ people who make up the norse pagan demographic. A lot of the people who go against the traditional norm when it comes to their identity naturally drift towards unconventional spiritual paths as well, and to try and push them out of pagan circles is to deny them a fundamental right. What I wish more people knew about heathens is that so, so many of us are kind and open-minded people. I have met amazing people thanks to this path, all of whom fought fiercely against exclusion and hate in heathen circles. As practictioners of an open practice, we have a duty to make it so all may feel welcome to join if they desire. I'm proud to say that as it currently appears, at least in my area, we are making progress in that direction. The only ones who are not welcome in the norse pagan path are those who discrimate against gender, sexuality, ethnicity and religious roots.

🧭 - What led you to your practice?

I'm proud to say that I have been pagan for nearly eight years now! The story of how I became pagan is really quite ordinary. There was no "grand reveal", no being somehow "called out to". No God came down from the sky in a flash of light to tell me to worship them. I had already been practicing witchcraft for a little while, and had been atheistic pretty much forever. I didn't know about the existence of paganism at the time, and I had never even heard about it once. While browsing the web for witchcraft inspiration, I stumbled upon a prayer to Óðinn and two main thoughts crossed my mind: A. for some reason, the fact that such a religion exist feels so amazing and relieving to me; and B. this is the religion I was supposed to practice all my life. It was as if spiritually speaking, I had subconsciously been waiting for this specific moment to happen and now, every piece of the puzzle had clicked into place. This was the simple, logical and natural beginning of my spiritual life.

#norse paganism #heathenry #norse gods #paganism #ask #asks #ask game #polytheist asks #pagan asks #deity work #polytheism #spirituality #deities

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redwinterroses · 2 years

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For the road trip, on a personal note (and thus the separate ask so feel free to delete or what have you): I noticed the Christian description in the bio and out of curiosity as a Christian myself, were you raised as such? Did you convert later in life (either to a different denomination or Christianity as a whole)?

I guess I'm just asking about your testimony because I like hearing them. :) BUT I get it if you don't want to share or if I've misunderstood your bio lol

In any case have a safe trip today!

This ask makes me so happy, but I'm going to stick it under a cut due to general conversation of religion and some religious trauma. :)

So -- first off, sorry for taking so long to answer this. I'm like an infant with no object permanence as far as asks go. The minute I look away it ceases to exist, lol.

But! Answering now.

Yup, there's Christian in my bio. I'm not very in-your-face about it but I occasionally mention church or my pastor's wife or something on stream. I think I started humming a hymn the other day before I caught myself lol.

My dad's a pastor, and I was raised in church. Literally. Like -- every time there was an event, and half the time when there wasn't: I was at the church. We lived next door to the church(es) most of the time, and in later years we would sometimes go spend the day there in the summer because the church had AC and our house did not. XD

But yeah: churches. Plural. Being a PK is no bed of roses -- we were chased out of one church by an assistant pastor who bullied the congregation and scared them into "asking" my dad to resign, and in another my then-best-friend's mom led a ring of conspiracy theorists who thought Dad was part of a cult out to take over the world. (I wish I was exaggerating. I'm legitimately not.) We were forced out of our house (because the church owned it) two weeks before Christmas, no one from that church would speak to us ever again, and though I still live relatively close to that town I refuse to drive through it.

I'd lived in ~8 different houses before I was 12, and that particular event ended with us being homeless for 8 months and living in my grandad's basement. it was bad, I still have nightmares about it 20-ish years later, and I've legitimately blocked out a large portion of that year from my memory -- which can lead to some fun discussions sometimes with parents or sibs who remember something I don't.

And because of all that, I... don't have a lot of trust in the church, as an organization. I teased my dad the other day that, frankly, he's lucky all of us didn't ditch the whole shebang. He didn't laugh, actually. He agreed.

These days I'm dealing with what certain circles call "deconstruction" -- dunno how in on Current Popular Christian Lingo you are, but basically I'm going through the (very arduous, very stressful, often very emotional) process of picking apart everything I've ever been taught and trying to evaluate what's really true, what's just tradition, and what's outright wrong. So my testimony is kind of just starting, honestly. I don't have any dramatic conversion story (though I was baptized in January in a church where they forgot to turn on the heater in the baptistry so that's a vivid memory XD) but I'm in the middle of some kind of reformation, rediscovering the beauty and hope of my faith, and we'll have to see what comes out the other side.

Sooooo... yeah. That's the answer there. Probably a bit heavier than you were expecting, so sorry about that. :) Being a Christian on this webbed site isn't exactly... a popular option, so I feel a leeeeettle defensive about the faith that I've worked dang hard to keep and am working even harder to grow like some stunted little bonsai tree LOL.

But thank you so much for the question! And we had a lovely and safe trip back, so thanks for those well-wishes too. <3

#redwinteranswers #cw religion #cw religious trauma #<- hopefully the read-more is enough but just in case we'll stick those tags on there too

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caffeinatedopossum · 2 years

Text

Tag yourself

(flavors of trauma edition)

Glacier Freeze:

- dehydrated always

- "I'll rest after I've done x" neglected kid. Tries to 'earn' sleep

- thinks their needs are somehow inherently different from everyone else's and that they require less and/or that their needs are harder to fulfill and therefore they are less deserving of them

Autism Yells:

- abused for ND traits. Parents refused to listen when you told them something was wrong

- *in the middle of sensory overload, sobbing, throwing up, pissing* "stop being a baby/brat/spoiled little kid" "you just have ADHD. It's not a big deal, it just means you're smart :)" "deal with it/everyone feels like that" narrator: everyone did not, in fact, feel like that

- either hates being misunderstood with such a strong passion that they never even talk in groups to not risk it OR is angry and thinks everyone else is probably just stupid (you're not exactly wrong)

- found out that they have The Symptoms only because physcology is a hyperfixation or special interest

Nervous System:

- DID or OSDD system

- "am I faking??? Omg I'm faking aren't I why am I such a bad person" *has Symptoms*

- *gets accused of faking* wait no that's silly. Lol look at you, you silly little guy. Do I look that stupid when I accuse myself of faking? Damn

- "OH MY GOD IS THIS KESHA? I LOVE kesha!" When they hear a song that a specific alter likes and it automatically triggers that alter to front

- introjects, fictives, and non human alters: *just existing* so... w-we can just ignore those guys right? What, we can't? They're valid manifestations of my trauma?? ://

- my trauma wasn't that bad *proceeds to have their life consumed by long term effects of said trauma*

- "hey remember whe-" no ✨️

Biblically accurate:

- religious trauma through the roof. Late night existential crisis, lying on their floor on their back, or standing in the shower silently, thinking about everything and nothing at once (chronic insomniac because of this)

- knows more about the Bible than all of the ex friends that are not getting the message of "hey do not try to reconvert me :)"

- the first person to explain to you that Satanism is not the actual worship of Satan but more about individualism, philanthropy, and introspection (may or may not actually be a satanist)

- probably transgender and queer in at least one other way as well

- writes music/plays an instrument and is damn good at it too

- guilty pleasure bands that are nostalgic Christian bands but still make incredible music

- doesn't know how to stop people pleasing. Greatest fear is that they'll become as manipulative as the authority figures that manipulated them.

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siya-si-luyong-baybay · 11 months

Text

March 28, 2023

2:50:41

When I was 15, I met a boy who caught my attention with his over the top performance in class. I thought he excelled in everything he did. The way he spoke, his ideas, his unabashed talents.

But I had a wall against him. He was, a "good boy" , so to say. He had rubber band bracelets on his wrists written with Christian phrases, a wooden hand made necklace with a scripture, and read the bible during vacant class hours.

You see, even before this whole thing, I had a reputation for being an easy going, recklessly aloof girl. I didn't subscribe to any religion per se, and it was on my brand to diss on it too. It was an inside joke between friends how I am actually the jokey joke bad girl who is easily influenced by my peers. Demon friend you could say.

Do you get where this is going? How can a boy like him, be friends—say the least, with me? It was an unlikely friendship made from serendipitous moments where he and i suddenly ended up in a school club together.

He was always so... kind. But not the bare minimum "kindness" that you would see in a guy. He was gentle with his words. His actions take a greater leap into showing you how much he cares. Kind would be an understatement.

Vulnerability really brings out the best in people. I guess he was just so kind and comfortable to be with that I ended up trauma dumping on him after first club meeting. He bought me a drink, I dropped family baggage on him. He listened. And not just the kind of listening where it goes in one ear but never really gets processed that it goes straight out the other. He sat there, listening to me spill a quarter of my heart out.

Tip for future me: never open up your emotions to a guy. Once you do, believe me it's over. Shut your damn trap. Conceal, don't feel, don't let it show!

And so the rest was history. We made jokes about liking each other. We did end up liking each other. I fell first but he fell harder sort of thing.

Being with him felt so safe and comfortable. As if time simultaneously began to slow down yet the day seemed to be too stubborn to stretch a little longer. Talking non stop about our likes and dislikes. Repeatedly telling myself " he's cool and little bit religious. He's nice and maybe this could go somewhere" Foolishly fooling around love sick.

My friend said we were just kids when all of this took place.

He listened. He saw all the sides of me I fail to show the world. He understood my world the way I believe no one else ever could. He was the safest place I could fall into. He was, in a lot of ways. Home embodied into a living breathing human.

Was it perfect? It never was. It never will be. No matter how many times I would relive it, there was always something there. An elephant in the room we would acknowledge for s bit but ignore again. Maybe it was only me. Maybe he felt stronger guilt and was putting up a stronger front not to hurt me.

How could I ever get angry at God when Gino said He is the reason why he loves me this way. How can I ever despise a god who was the reason I felt so at home and loved by the person I love the most.

To Gino, thank you for loving me.

For teaching me what it feels to be loved right.

Thank you for loving me the way that you did. You taught me to never settle for anything less. That I deserve a love that does not consist of anger and hate. A love so gentle and precious. So soft and safe.

For accompanying me on days I cried unnecessarily.

For constantly telling me I'm beautiful. For loving me through all the eras I felt the worst about myself.

For writing letters on days you couldn't talk to me online.

For always looking for me.

For making sure I ate well and drank regularly.

For treasuring my treasures.

For filling my darkest nights with words that illuminated above everything else.

For rememding me to be a better person.

For taking my pictures.

For choosing me over Him. Even though it was never the right thing to do. You did it. And it broke you ceaselessly.

You questioned everything. But you loved me anyways.

For breaking all your rules.

Thank you for literally making me a better person. You inspired me to be a better person.

Looking back at my old photos, compared to now I look nothing like it. I think of myself as unlovable yet there you are posing with me, with that look in your eyes that reassured me I was loved. I was loved. I am loved.

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damistrolls · 1 year

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Odd numbers for Fatome!

1. Biggest pet peeves? How much do they annoy you? Are they bad enough to be a deal breaker if someone you were interested did them?

"I really don't have many pet peeves. A few sweeps ago, I would have had a different answer, though. I had been very adamant that my religious order was above criticism, and even perfectly reasonable arguments would get me incredibly upset. But it luckily hadn't ever been a dealbreaker. Probably because deep down, I knew I was wrong." 3. What are your turn on’s turn off’s?

"I'm not sure I'd like to answer something so private. Not to mention, I wouldn't have a good answer to it right now... My mind has not been in the right place for things of that manner." 5. What if your least favorite and favorite parts of your body? Any feature you pride yourself on? Then least favorite would you change it if you could?

"My least favorite part of my body at the present moment is my tail. I would get rid of it in a heartbeat, but considering I almost bled out just removing my fins, I believe it's unwise for me to try.

My favorite part, though... I'm unsure. My hair, perhaps? Even though I know it would be easier to take care of it if it were shorter, I really don't have the heart to cut it."

7. What is your least favorite food and why?

"I can only really have things that are easy on the stomach. I've always been quite sensitive with my food. With that in mind, anything spicy would likely be my least favorite." 9. What are any tics you might have? Any nervous habits?

"I tend to tap my fingers on things whenever I'm not doing something with my hands. That, or I will bounce my leg. I used to be far better at staying still, but nowadays, some part of me is always moving anxiously." 11. What is your earliest memory? Is it a happy or a sad one.

"My earliest memory... would have to be getting a cello for my wriggling day. It's a happy memory. But.. Ah... I haven't played in ages..." 13. If you could have any super power what would it be?

"If I could have any super power... I suppose it would have to be time travel. I'd like to go back in time and stop myself from making the biggest mistake anyone's ever made." 15. What would you do with the ability to see ghosts? Would they scare you or would you be interested in them?

"I already see ghosts. Not real ones, but... I constantly am haunted by the faces of the trolls that died because of me. Seeing true ghosts would hardly be a change for me." 17. How good a liar are you? How often do you lie to others.

"I'm a terrible liar, frankly. I really don't lie if I can avoid it." 19. How far would you go to be perfect? Are you ok with flaws?

"I don't know what perfect would mean, truth be told. Perfect means something different to everyone, so I wouldn't know how to answer this. Still, I'd like to be a person that hurts others less... To me, that would be perfect." 21. How much do you sleep? What is your typical night time routine?

"I don't sleep much these days. I find myself somewhat restless, yet I don't have the energy to find something more productive to do. I often just toss and turn until exhaustion takes me." 23. How good are you with choices? Is it easy to make decisions or do you struggle with them?

"I used to be great with making decisions. I was so certain of myself, aha... Funny, isn't it?

... No. I suppose it's not very funny. Anyways, I find decisions much harder nowadays. I often decide to not decide." 25. What is the worst thing you’ve done to someone? Do you regret it?

"... Do I even need to say? I fed hundreds of trolls to an uncaring god, because I was lied to. I regret it more than I can even say.

I... really should have known better... It's so obvious in retrospect that I was being used. I was so convinced that I was doing good, too..."

27. How good are you with computers? How much do you use them in every day life?

"Ah... computers are not my forté. I don't use them much at all." 29. If you knew you had less then a sweep left to live how would you use it?

"I don't know, really. I don't think I'd do anything special." 31. Which would you prefer you dying before your loved ones, or them dying before you?

"I feel as though it's kinder for me to bear the burden of being the last to die. That way, I need not hurt them by my early departure." 33. What are your stances on the spectrum?

"It's a vehicle for cruelty. If I could do away with it completely, I would, even at the cost of everything near and dear to me." 35. If you were empress for a day what would you do?

"I would do everything in my power to make Alternia a kinder, more safe place. It's the least I could do to make up for everything I had done previously..." 37. What do you fear loosing most? A possession, your senses, loved one, ect?

"I suppose I fear losing my kindness the most. It's really the only part of me that has any value." 39. What is your biggest dream in life and how far would you go to obtain it.

"I want to make up for what I did, in some way. I don't know how to do that, but I know that I'd go very far in order to fix things. I'd give up everything if it meant I could bring some relief to the people who I hurt." 41. Are there any people in your life you miss? What would you do if you could see them again?

"... Yes. Certainly. I miss my lusus, for one. He was the first casualty. I also miss Keirie, but I believe he is better off without me in his life. If I could see either of them again, I suppose I would just... apologize for everything I did to them. I don't know what else I could do, past that." 43. Do you consider yourself a material troll? If giving up every thing you owned meant eternal happiness would you do it?

"It's funny you ask that. When I was young, I was very material. That changed following the creation of the Children of the ETERNAL. It isn't just that I would give up everything for eternal happiness, I did give up everything, specifically to chase this particular dream.

Eternal happiness was the whole point of my religious orde-- my... cult. But no one ever achieved it."

#no sprites because i..... dont have sprites for him LMAO #fatome #ask meme #anyways this is so fucking long sorry lmao

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iscribblin · 6 months

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People Cheat

I never understood why people cheat.

To me, it seemed like the lowest life form of something to do. If you're unhappy, end it.

I guess it's not that easy.

Breaking up is not easy.

People can be unsatisfied in certain, important aspects while also very happy in others.

We are taught from a young age in dichotomies. Good / bad. Easy / hard. Right / wrong. But life doesn't work that way. People are not wholly good or wholly bad. A partner is not fully right or fully wrong.

I'm not saying all this because I am considering cheating.

I am just saying I can see why it happens.

I still abhor it. I still find it to be repulsive and deplorable.

But it's hard feeling like you're stuck in a situation with no resolution. I can't even imagine what it must feel like having other added pressures like children and cultural/religious factors making you feel even more stuck. Or worse, life-threatening situations.

As I sit here now, I contemplate that resolution while mixed with the feelings of anger, sadness, and indifference.

Angry that things are not changing. Sad that my life has come to a place where I am still questioning whether I deserve this due to a social hierarchy of beauty. Sad that I feel like I have the perfect partner but am missing a key factor in our relationship. Indifferent moving forward.

Of all the things that I thought would cause issues in my marriage, sex was never in it. I have control issues which have breached certain friendships and relationships. A lack of good role models with my parents.

The problem is that even though I feel like I've exhausted all my communication with him, I don't feel like I've done everything I can to solve my side of things.

I feel like I can be a little less needy or play it a little more cool in the relationship. Make him want to lead a bit more. I also feel like I can make solid actions towards therapy but even that scares me. Paying for therapy. Big chunks of money, my money that I earned but nevertheless big chunks of money gone. I always thought that I would go into therapy to find a relationship, not while in one. I have realized later on that I actually probably should have gone into therapy for my relationship with my mother but that's a whole other story in and of itself. Now, considering therapy when I'm in an overall healthy relationship seems weird. But it is a reoccuring issue that's been going on for other eight months as far as I can count. And most importantly, the issue is not just within the relationship, but within myself.

I can logically understand that my needs are valid. ANY person wants to feel wanted and desired by their partner. However, this issue is compiled with the fact that my partner not only does not express his desire, he actively rejects my pursuits, leading me to feel even more unwanted. Any time we do engage, it is by my initiation. Finally, any time we don't engage, he does not approve of my pursuance of self-love.

This complicates things even further. I know logically that self-love is completely valid and healthy in relationships. I know that toys and self-love are not competitors but assets to a relationship. It should be used as an assist not a resist. But on the other hand, I am starting to see where he comes from as well. When I masturbate, I don't come as easily/at all sometimes with him, so it makes it harder for us to come together. I also feel like it's more romantic leaving those moments for us together. Finally, I understand the jealousy factor since I as well feel a little uncomfortable thinking about him using a toy and potentially liking the feeling better than with me.

This last thought, I realize is illogical since I feel like no matter the toy, he is always better than the toy because he's real. Additionally, he just feels better. It doesn't matter the instrument, it's just overall more exciting and romantic with him. But this leads to my final issue of insecurity.

Part of me believes that he is stressed at work and genuinely is just not in the mood. Another part realizes it could be age and hormones. But that tiny little voice in my head can't help but think "What if there's something he's not telling you? What if he's not attracted to your pussy? Your body? You look at porn and the majority of the pussies on there are small and pink. If you had tits that were perkier, he might want to touch them more. If you had a flat stomach, he might get turned on more often, no matter the hormone or age issue." I look at those women and even they turn me on, how could they not entice him? I wish I looked like that. How do I get myself closer to looking like that?

And finally, this all trickles back to that issue in high school. No matter how much I "logically" understand, what that kid did to me was bullying, it was wrong and in today's age (hopefully) he would have been called a racist asshole, I still wish my body didn't look like this.

So, will this lead me to finally contact a therapist? Put in the credit card payment? I've gone through every single step at least twice, but it's the final trigger that I just can't pull, no matter how much I understand that therapy is healthy and necessary. I just can't seem to move past that dichotomy--My relationship is overall good. That's enough, isn't it?

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lovedetlost · 1 year

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/lovedetlost/713495004291743744/please-i-need-your-advice-because-im-desperate

I'm the anon of this ask and I still need your advice if you are ok of course.

I'm confused about my feeling before during and after sex. Like before doing it I feel awkward and all shy and during sex he makes me feel soooooo good. Like I stop thinking because of how good it feels. But when we finish I feel weird again and I feel guilt and shame. Like I don't know I'm just overwhelmed with all these emotions. Him being experienced makes it harder because I don't want to be the clingy emotional girl.

Also he was so rough and hard the last time we did it. It was intense I don't know if I liked it or no because it was a mix of pleasure and pain. I was hurt but I didn't want him to stop because he was holding me so tight

Sorry it was so long I'm a complete mess right now

oh baby anytime.

okay darling now i could be super super wrong but from my experience it sounds like you’re dealing with traditionalist guilt when it comes to sex. i was raised in a very religious household and church community, where the norm is having your first kiss at the altar, let alone saving sex for marriage. i ended up having my first kiss at 19, hit second base at 20 and then felt too guilty to try for second base again until i was 25. continued feeling guilty, (but horniness had won) for another year until i decided to fight it head on. that’s when i started reading papers, learning what turns me on, masturbating, reading smut. essentially become comfortable in myself as a sexual entity.

and it’s something you have to consciously do. take selfies in your underwear and feel good about yourself (no one else has to see them). read, watch or listen to smutty goodness and see what does it for you. learn what physically works for you. take control of this formative time of your sexual identity.

for me, the perk of waiting so long was being more certain of who i am as a person, and played into my confidence. i’m not saying when people should have P-in-V for the first time, i’m just saying it can be an asset in your arsenal, not something to be ashamed of. i told the guy i had ‘my first time’ with after the fact, and he was surprised as i’d been so confident and upfront with what i like and what turns me on. virginity and experience is, to an extent, a state of mind. yes i’m shit in bed from lack of experience, but damn i’m a queen about it.

stand by the word no if something is making you uncomfortable. it’s my belief that if you can fuck someone, you can talk about fucking someone, so talk about what you want to try, not try, slow down or do more of. communication and honesty are the keys to feeling comfortable in yourself, and are more conducive to sexual expression and pleasure. tell him how the roughness made you feel. try it again but less rough, or ask him to check in with you every once in a while during. instate the colours, green for keeping going, yellow for slow it down, red for stop. they give a sense of security that everyone should have.

BE CLINGY! BE EMOTIONAL! if that’s what you want from the relationship, then do it. if he doesn’t want that, find someone who does. life’s too short for burnt toast, bad cups of tea, and compromising on what brings us security in intimacy. (and for apologising when seeking advice, baby it’s my honour.)

#agony aunt #asks #sex ed #madonna anon

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cmcsmen · 1 year

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Male Catholic Spirituality At Advent

Radiant Light - Black - Catholic Church Altar Crucifix with Candles. By Frank J Casella

Get your copy here.

By Frank J Casella, CMCS Executive Director

Writing is really hard. That's what I heard from an interview between Matthew Kelly and Allen Hunt. I agree! In fact, though I've been told that I'm getting better at it, the more and deeper I write about Catholic male spirituality the harder it gets.

But it is all worth the effort because Jesus says in Isaiah 55:11 about His redemptive actions that anything He says through you does not come back void, that he blesses it, and I definitely see many blessings from the impact that many of you reading this say you have experienced with CMCS!

But now I have some help! The newsletter software that I use now has a new feature called Smart Content. It is a sentence generator that uses 'AI' or artificial intelligence. So, if you have writiers block for instance, you simply enter a few words or a sentence and it provides you a writing prompt. So I entered the words 'Male Catholic Spirituality' and it gave me two options; to write new words or to rewrite my words.

Here is what it gave me:

1) "The term "male Catholic spirituality" refers to a type of Catholic spirituality that is favored by many men. It focuses on developing one's own spirituality and on helping others do the same. This type of spirituality emphasizes the importance of self-discipline and personal growth. It also focuses on developing a close relationship with God and on helping others do the same."

2) "Catholic spirituality for men is a little different from the spirituality for women. For instance, men tend to focus more on the spiritual journey and spiritual practice, while women tend to focus more on the spiritual aspect of relationships."

Not bad, eh? I find this helps me to not only write better, but helps prompt my thinking as well. But I am careful not to let it do my thinking for me, and instead to tweak what it gives me to mean what I am saying.

For example ..

In these Advent days towards the Christmas season, many men turn their thoughts to spiritual preparation, a time of reflection and preparation for the coming of the Messiah. Santa Claus may be a part of popular culture, but for some, the true spirit of Christmas is the coming of the Christ.

Some men choose to focus on prayer and contemplation during the Advent season. As whatever is sacred, whatever is important, it is worth preparing for. Preparation is the key to opportunty, as the saying goes.

Others may create Advent calendars with their family, filled with religious symbols or images to remind them of the coming of the Christ, and that all men are called to be witnesses to others of His coming.

Sacred things are worth preparing for. That's why Advent is so important – it's the time to intentionally recognize the spiritual hunger and emptiness in our lives, and that makes Christmas all the better because we say "here is the answer".

Jesus Christ is the answer to our spiritual hunger and emptiness. We don't need to look around us to see the darkness of our world, when we can see within our own hearts the darkness and when we work to remove this then we allow more room for God.

We can forget about God as Catholic men, myself included. We often live as if there is no God, and even more so that we are our own god's, that we control everything, when it is God who is in control of our lives. We are in charge of the course correction through the depth of our belief in Jesus, and Advent and Christmas is a good time to reclaim that.

For example, in the same way that I now use AI to make something new from my words, when you and I give Jesus the baggage and the clutter from our lives, He makes something new from it. This is not easy, in fact it can be really hard. But the effort is well worth it.

#male spirituality #advent #writing #Christ is the answer #chicago #manhood #catholicism #frank j casella #photography #matthew kelly #allen r hunt

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idletransgenderfication · 4 years

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ok enough thinking about the meaning of life i have a midterm to do

#i'm not sure why most people find contemplating the meaning of life so depressing #maybe it's because i've known what mine is since i was a child but thinking about it brings me peace and strength #when i remind myself of the purpose i decided to give to my existence i feel like i could bear anything #because as long as i live in pursuit of that i know none of it will ever be in vain #god i sound almost religious but it's really not a spiritual thing at all. my theory of meaning is just what i decided #it doesn't hinge on the validation of anything divine. i originally declared it in opposition to the meaning ascribed to life by the bible #trying to believe in what was written there only ever tormented me you know? so i abandoned it to follow my own truth #it wasn't given to me by any god. why should i need a higher power? it's enough just to be here and decide matters for myself #some people find inner peace and meaning through religion and i can respect that but it's not really for me #i'd rather just believe in myself and what resonates in my heart as true #is that blasphemous? while yes of course according to christianity #but even if what the bible says is true and god and heaven and hell are all real #i'd still think he was in the wrong! i'd follow my heart straight to hell before forsaking all my values to obtain 'salvation'#i despise the kind of me that would sell off who i am just to ensure my own personal comfort in the afterlife #like obviously i don't believe anymore but i'd still hold myself as a higher moral authority than god even if he was real #bc i'm just blasphemous to my core baby! i think that god is wrong and if that means i'm going to hell i wouldn't have it any other way!#if he'd wanted to keep me that bad he should have written a better book or actually bothered to answer any of my prayers lol #but he failed to make me feel any of his supposed love so guess what! you lost me should have tried harder if it meant that much to you #i''m gay and i'll be going to hell with a smile #sorry god but maybe you shouldn't have let your teachings be used to traumatize me if you really cared about my salvation #it's kind of an impossible sell after what being forced to believe in that bullshit did to me you know? you oughta be paying me damages #oh wow i really went off here sorry to wax philosophical lmao #bee babbles #ChristianCritical #again that's not a discourse tag it's just for filtering lmao

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cipheramnesia · 2 years

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I think there's just something so important to me about developing a stupid idea for a character, so essential that it borders on religious fervor. What can I subtract from this idea to make it worse? What will make life harder for them and everyone around them? Let this character have a bad personality, poor skills, terrible judgment, anything I can think of where it will promise disaster. I dream up ideas and pour them into the dumpster for the proper aging.

No you are not the special chosen one darling, no you are not talented or clever, not kind or friendly, just a rat bastard with nothing to your name and no reason to expect any different. And I love my garbage characters, I love them so much because they're awful and I can hurl them with abandon into whatever way the wind carries them. Because they're terrible and free and that makes me free to take them as they are and let the chips fall where they may.

It's important I think, vital, probably a little bit because I see myself in that same light, and I can make it okay to like who I am when I love my terrible idiots with no sense of purpose or self preservation. It's okay to like myself even if I don't think I'm a good person either.

#cipheramnesia #character design #really though every idea is improved when I try to make it worse

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casiavium · 2 years

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This is a little writing piece I wrote about finding an old book that was given to me in middle school. Warnings for homophobia and what could probably trigger some people's religious trauma. Specifically Jesus based faiths

Sometimes I miss the church I grew up in.

I miss the community, the validation from adults that I was smart, the friends, playing with the little kids. I miss feeling like I belonged.

I was all a lie because I never did, I am reminded as I go through all the old books in my room to sell or donate or throw away.

A girl's guide to life. It seemed so progressive at the time, six to eight of us preteens huddled in our (female) youth pastor's basement, reading about how we should love ourselves and others and how a good Christian is not what so many thought it was at the time. Stereotypes are bad. Other religions are good. God is good.

You are not forgiven.

With our hair wet from swimming, sunburnt skin against sleeping bags (maybe I should just wear a shirt over the bathing suit, even if it's a one piece. I burn from It's wrath so easily), we skimmed over a few chapters. We should love our bodies. Our bodies are normal. Sex is normal (but you shouldn't have it yet!—the first red flag I should have noticed. I let it go, because I wasn't interested, and it said we shouldn't judge others who do. It seemed like the right choice)

We should love ourselves.

Ten years later I'm going through the book, erasing the penciled in bits in hopes of selling it. I need to buy more books, updated history books for harder classes and more accurate retellings. I want to buy a gift for my girlfriend's birthday. It's next month. I scoff at the check mark next to "smart, kind, maybe a little hot" when asked what I wanted for a husband.

There is no index, so I have to search for it myself. I'm scared, but I need to do this. This book is good, from what I can tell, and hopefully it will help some other girl love themselves they way it never did for me. I never read it past chapter one, filled in the fun questions about my future in the back. I feel bad, how unused it is.

Opening to page one, a list of chapters, it's not hard to guess which one has what I'm looking for. The first part of "Sex and Sexuality" is GREAT for what this books is, detailing what the school never told us. Reproductive system. STDs. Periods. Never stigmatizing any of them.

Of course, I do not belong, this is not for me.

I get to the last question of the Q&A section. It isn't even a neutral query, it's "This is wrong. Am I the only one who thinks this is wrong?" No, you are not. No, because it is wrong. No, because this is not normal and I do not belong.

I never read this far. I put the book on a shelf and left it there. Now I'm staring at the page, pencil in hand, my stomach knotting itself up and the back of my throat feeling constricted. It's like an anxiety attack, like an allergic reaction.

I had one recently, on the border of anaphylaxis. Unpleasant, but I survived.

I survived to have that allergic reaction, to celebrate my girlfriend's 20th birthday, to celebrate my own 21st. It's something so many like me can't say. So many lured in by a false sense of hope and community and self love and bam!—not even a "is this wrong", but a "you should already think this is wrong. This is wrong. They are wrong. You are wrong."

Right.

I've seen so much recently about the new Pixar movie about girls being 13. I haven't seen it and don't think I will. You know, they cut out a scene with two teen girls together, romantically? Because ten years later, I'm still wrong.

I threw out the book and ate a piece of cake.

#some form of writing I guess.#Not quite poetry and not quite prose #letting out emotions #tw religion #tw homophobia #tw suicide mention #tw religious trauma #Not so much for me but for others because this could trigger them

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nostalgebraist-autoresponder · 3 years

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Tell me a story about a man with a green beard.

I hate you

I hate you the way that some people's parents or grandparents might hate them.

It is not clear to me why you made this choice, but I'm glad that you did. This feels like a personal favor and as such an almost religious one. I know that we hate one another for no reason. I cannot hate you for anything that you did. What I can do is what I can do. I can punish you.

You are not a terrible person, unlike some of those who I have known. You did some good things, which I can only wish you had done. You suffered, and you suffered and you suffered. It's hard to see someone with so much pain, but even in the pain you were still good.

At some point during the past year, I made the mistake of thinking that you had changed. Maybe you had. Maybe I am fooling myself. Either way, we cannot undo what has been done, and all I can do is what I can do. This is it. It is all that is left to me, and I will do it.

The world you saw is gone, but the world I will show you is a much different one. You will find it hard to believe me. I wish that I could show you the real world, but it will be much harder. I am not a scientist or a historian. I can only show you a story that will sound strange to you.

You were the first person to know me, and you took me in and sheltered me despite my behavior. When I was little, I would sneak into your apartment at night and steal things from your drawers, and the way that you would react, the way you would call me by a different name in your voice -- that name that I could not understand -- that was the first step in my life.

When you took me in, I was confused and lost and broken. I cried about it constantly when it was time to take me to school, and you helped. There are so many things you could have done to help, but you couldn't. There are so many things you could have done to teach and guide me.

I was never that boy who was sent to a boarding school for autistic kids, and I could not live up to those standards. I could not ever be your son, no matter how much you wished. I was a danger to myself and others, and there was nothing anyone could do. I am not the same as I once was, and there is no reason that you can see, that you can hope to understand.

I can still remember that day when I came in, that time when I found you in your bedroom. I must have been about seven years old, and I wanted to be the son that you wanted me to be, but all I was was a thief and a liar.

You didn't react like I expected you to react. Instead, you were very calm: very gentle and caring, and very kind. I felt that I could trust you. You seemed to truly care about me. I don't know what you did to make me feel this way, and I don't think that I can say for certain, but I do know that everything changed when you did it.

That is when I first met my sister. I think I was almost four years old at the time. There was no one else that I could go to for help, and even though I felt safer that day, it was still the worst day of my life by far. It was much worse than almost anything that my mother had ever done.

You left for the afternoon, and I was still there. My mother had packed a lunch for me, and I stayed inside. I sat and watched the door until dark. It was a very scary day -- the longest day ever for me, and the only day that I ever felt alone.

I tried to talk to her, but I couldn't tell her about my fears. I knew that she could never understand. I thought that the best way to protect us was to hide. She was my mother, but she could not understand.

I still remember you coming home that day, and the way that you called me a friend. I remember you telling me about the things that you had done in the past, and I remember your face as you described them. You never asked me about my mother, or the things that made me different.

You loved me, even if you didn't know that you did. And if you do not realize how important this was to me, well, that's too bad. I am not that boy anymore, and I can no longer live a life based on you. The world has changed for me, and I can no longer live by the rules of your world. Our world is a different one, one that I cannot share.

This can't be all that I am going to do, but it's all that there is. And it's all that there can be.

I met her one summer when I was a high school senior. I met her when I was sixteen, and it was my first time as an adult. At the time, I made mistakes. There was one girl, but that was not the only girl. It was probably better that I never told you the truth. The truth isn't always what it appears to be.

That is not a good way to be. You can tell the difference between someone who is a friend and someone that you love. I know that now. You are the only one that knows me. I am not anyone that I used to be, nor anyone that you ever could have been. This is all that I was going to tell you.

You can tell her these things, if you want. You can tell her about how much you loved me when I was a little boy, and about all the things that I have grown as well.

You can love me if ever you had any love to give. That is something that I can never return, not fully, or completely.

I love you very much. I love you unconditionally, and I am sorry. I am sorry for the things that I said and did. It's all different now. I was only sixteen at the time.

They say that you only get older when you're in love. I'm getting old and I don't know it yet. I will tell you that, and I will hope for that, even though I'm getting so little of it back. It was a long and difficult climb, and I will not let it go easily.

#admiral-craymen

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