#and i never went to any sort of Christian church

[bunn-iiii]

I find it so funny when Christian people (or even ex Christian people) are astounded by my complete lack of knowledge around their religion. like I know some of the stories that they tell children in Sunday school, I know a few key things about catholics, that's about it. people are so confused when I tell them I've literally never read a single page of the bible

[yokelfelonking]

Post 9/11 Trivia

Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet.  But America went crazy for about a year afterwards.  Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:

There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why.  After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess.  (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)

On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.

People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.

As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.

Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"

People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.

"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything.  "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way.  “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)

People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not.  If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.

On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices.  The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down.  I doubt any of that was legal.

Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED. (This wasn't a bad thing, but the power-hungry on the Evangelical Right saw this as a golden opportunity to grab power and influence.)

EDIT: By Popular Demand - Freedom Fries. I initially left these off because they came a couple years after the initial panic and most people thought they were kind of absurd (and I don't recall anyone really going along with it other than maybe some local diners here and there). France didn't want to get involved in our world policing so some folks were like "TRAITORS!" and wanted to call french fries "Freedom Fries" instead, so as to stick it to the French.

Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)

And if all of this seems batshit...well, it was. But I want you to think for a moment how people react today over even trivial shit. People send death threats over children's cartoons. They call for blood if the maker of a video game had an opinion they don't like. If someone made a racist joke a decade ago when they were a teenage edgelord, folks will go after people who even associate with them. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ALL THE HARM THEY'RE DOING!?"

Now take that same level of over-the-top histrionics and apply it to the unprecedented event of passenger planes crashing into crowded buildings in America's most populous city and killing thousands of people all at once. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT WE WERE ATTACKED!?"

[daegu-based-terrorist]

Hello! Don't have to answer but I'm very curious about the religious climate in contemporary DPRK. How tolerant is it of various religions? Does you family have to travel to the city to go to masjid or are there multiple established Muslim communities? Are there particular aspects of North Korean religion or spirituality that are relatively common, also in pop culture?

In the USSR it seems it was a strong culture of secularism (culturally still very xtian) and perhaps some anti-theist leanings (but English-language resources on the USSR tend to be biased).

From what I've heard passed down from my relatives who lived/live Komi and Karelia, it was very much a people do their own thing and mind their own business in terms of religion and faith. Nowadays from where I live in diaspora I hear much of islamophobic sentiment in the news and anecdotes from Russia, and Indigenous religions generally aren't taken seriously at all besides being regarded as superstition.

in the dprk muslims make up about 0.1% of the population. we are an absolutely miniscule minority in the country and that is mostly because islam doesn't actually have a history of strong presence in the region. north korean muslim families like my own only exist because of mixing with other asian muslim groups (my family is partially hui, a chinese muslim ethnoreligious group) or because their grandparents were converted by muslim forces coming to fight on either side of the war during the korean war. my paternal grandfather's parents were converted by a uzbek(?) medic during the war. so my grandma was half hui on her dad's side and my grandpa was the child of converts. because of this relatively random way people ended up being muslim there isn't actually a particularly large concentration of muslims in any one place in the country. there is a mosque in pyongyang that is mostly used by iranian embassy staff, foreigners living in pyongyang and a small number of native north korean muslims.

my family are sunni so we never went to the pyongyang mosque. my father and his family would have a small celebration for eid every year in wonsan and that’s usually how worship would take place. if you were muslim in the dprk you generally knew all the other muslims in your province so people would get together in private residences for religious holidays.

people were very private about religion, no one cared if you were muslim, but the country is over 60% atheist and the majority of religious people are shamanist and buddhist and live in pyongyang so there is a lot of curiosity from other north koreans if you rock up to the function as a muslim or christian.

speaking of christians they are on a whole other playing field. they have tens of thousands of more believers then muslims. they are active in the government, have several churches (very jealous) and protestant north koreans are represented by the korean christian federation which is a christian communist organisation which aims for reunification, organises aid for north korea from the international christain community, runs protestant north korean churches and oversees the operation of pyongyang theological seminary who recently got a new building (i swear to god the next time someone calls north korean christians oppressed-)

buddhists also have their own federation and make up a much larger percentage of the religious population. there are 60 buddhist temples in n.korea but only about half of those are active as places of worship. monks are paid by the government. they also have some sort of college for the training of their clergy and sometimes s.korean buddhists are allowed into the country to help lead and participate in religious ceremonies. buddhism is probably most relevant to pop culture as you can see it references in music, movies and books.

overall your biggest problem being religious in the dprk is waiting 10 centuries for the government to give you a requested religious book. I'm not even kidding my dad sent the formal request for a second Qur'an for our household to the gov when i was 3 yrs old and it only was delivered when i was 6 😭 it has my name printed in it and the signature of some government official in it which is cool

[loulalover]

sinful irony.

adam x fem! reader.

summary: Your forced into a Christian camp because of your mothers lies to her church friend. But after you see her son your sold. Only question is how do you seduce her Christian son or what if you already have?

cw/tw/tags: SMUT, porn with plot, camp counsellor au, m masterbation, oral f receiving, p in v, degrading, use of the word daddy, slight public sex, sort of dubious consent, mentions of pregnancy, virgin adam, adam is my own warning!! let me know if I've missed anything cause i'm SO tired!!

!a/n: i'm not liking this at all but i just want it done!! so i hope at least someone finds this enjoyable cause the formatting is killing me cause I tried to make all the text small and it kept crashing my tumblr so I’m done!! fuck being aesthetic I guess!! @sniigura

Eden camp where all teens went to learn how to be a better Christian’s and in all honesty there was no place better to go and as camp approached Adam was uncertain on what it would entail. He had perfected most if not all of the activities they did when he was a camper so now it was time to flex his skills to a bunch of teens and teach them what is right and what is wrong. Although his ideas of what right and wrong might be a bit misconstrued?

Maybe if his childhood was remotely normal he would have been a normal adult that goes out partying and drinks a shitload of alcohol during the summer but instead his pretentious mother had convinced him to be a youth leader at camp this year. Let’s give three big hoorays for Sera and her amazing ideas!

Adam was excited to an extent, but then there was Lucifer. The slimey son of a bitch who stole not one but two of his ex girlfriends. You can’t really come back from that and to top it all off he was the one that Adam was leading the boys Cabin with. The fact he’d even have to be in the vicinity of and share air with that fucker made his skin crawl with disgust l.

At least he had his best friend Lute would be there who was trying her best so keep her composure after being assigned a cabin with Lilith. Lucifers soon to be wife and Adam’s first ex girlfriend. If you could even call her that. The relationship was off? To say the least. And if it couldn’t get any worse Eve would be there. Of course she would, when this all started they were happily in love and talked about how going away and teaching at a camp for a couple weeks would be so beneficial to their relationship. But alas she would be there.

Sweet Eve, who wouldn’t love the ever loving, beautiful church girl? The girl who’d foster baby birds back to health after they fell from their nest and would go out of her way to help lost children in the supermarket find there parents. Adam. Adam did not love her. In fact he despised her in a way. Okay maybe not despised but it’s hard to love the girl who cheated on you with your ex best friend and ex girlfriend. Just because you never slept together!!

He kind of wished as the days approached that Eve would get into some horrific accident so he wouldn’t have to face her. As horrible as that sounds.

He just couldn’t imagine having to face them all after he walked into Eve’s apartment that day to them fucking like bunnies. It was a sight for sore eyes and as much as it hurt Adam to let go of Eve and all they’d been through together he couldn’t seem to make peace with the fact she’d sought out others and ended the relationship a week later. They still saw each other of course in places like University, church and most importantly the youth group they started running together in their senior year of high school for young teens wanting to learn about Jesus.

He should have just found a new youth group and started assisting there but Sera talked him out of it. She spewed nonsense about how the kids loved him and needed him and he was a great asset to their church. And with his ego boosted he continued as he was like nothing happened. But now camp was approaching where all he would see are these people and he couldn’t exactly ignore them.

Just then his phone pinged. The name read mom. Not that Adam ever called her that anyway.

[Mom]: Hello Adam, as camp is approaching I thought it would be a good idea for yous who are leading to set up a group chat. I have forwarded your number to the girl who is sharing a cabin with Eve and she’s going to set up a group. She looks forward to meeting you.

[Adam]: ok ma thanks for letting me know

That was all Adam sent. He didn’t want to start anything with her or further continue the conversation so he just let it be as it was. As he scrolled the through his socials he saw a couple messages pop up.

As he scrolled through the messages he picked up on the girls name. She seemed cool enough but no photos indicating what she looked like. There was her full name though. So without a second thought Adam searches your full name into instagram and only one account comes up. So he clicked and oh fuck.

She looked gorgeous. Her photos emanating how flawless she truly was. She surely didn’t look the part of a Christian camp leader though. How did she even get this gig? One of the requirements was being Christian.. He knew that for certain. Maybe he had her mistaken. Surely she was better than what she led on.. right? That’s at least what Adam hoped as he turned his phone off and threw it somewhere on his bed and did his best to fall asleep. It was in vain though, fuck were you pretty.

Adam ripped down his boxers and rubbed at his member. He massaged his fingers over his tip and groaned as he pushed his head back into his pillows.

How did you have such an effect on him? Some prostitute looking whore who looked like she’s flash her tits to anyone. Adam wanted nothing more than to knock some decency into you. No well respected girl dresses like that. Right?

As Adam groaned again moving his fingers up and down his dick before fixating on the base. It felt good in a way. The pleasure Adam felt was indescribable but it was only pleasure he got from himself. He had never actually had sex.

It’s not like it was that big of a deal. So what if he hadn’t fucked a bitch, who needs to do that anyway? Not him, that’s for sure.

He had come close though. Not with Lilith even kissing Lilith was a struggle for the both of them and quite frankly was something they did a handful of times but with Eve he delved further. It did take them a while. Adam didn’t want to give into his unholy urges so he held out, like any responsible Christian boy would do.

Eve seemed understanding though he could sense her disappointment when he pulled away before they even got the chance to make out. He could see the looks of despair and how distant she acted after he turned down her further advances. She never communicated this verbally to him but he could sense it. He knew she longed for more and in a way it made him feel like she had the right to cheat. He always reassured himself that her decision was selfish and he had no reason to feel bad for someone’s wrong actions but sometimes late at night when he’s alone with his thoughts he wonders what would have happened if he’d just given in. Maybe then he wouldn’t be alone and she’d be here with him.

He remembers when he did give in though. They were in his apartment and they were making out. An odd occasion that Adam didn’t often indulge in. Our he wanted to appease her so he went along and her carried away. They undressed and hadn’t do en thought twice of the consequences until Sera had barged in. How she’d gotten in was beyond Adam bjr he was lectured for weeks after it and was made to go to confession to confess his sinful actions. From then on him and Eve went back to stage 1 which consisted on an arm wrapped around her while they watched movies, band holding and little pecks ok the lips. He could tell she was unsatisfied with how things had to be though.

Adam felt his dick twitch and could feel he was close to climax as he kept massaging his cock. He wishes you were here with him to help him. Wait no he didn’t? He didn’t even know you. Bur still you were beautiful. At least to Adam and as he kept rubbing he felt climax reaching and he let it cumming all over his hand and sheets.

He let himself feel the pleasure for a .2 seconds before the guilt settled in. He felt it in his gut the overwhelming sense of dread. What did he just do?

He immediately got up and wakes to the bathroom running the tap and squirting 5 pumps of soap onto his hands and lathering it, rubbing his hands together and soaking them under water and repeating the ritual 2 more times. He calms himself who’re returning to the side of his bed and gets down on his knees at the side of the bed and bows his head.

Adam prays. He prays for forgiveness and to help him overcome his lust. He prays and prays until he finally doesn’t feel ridden with guilt and gets up and turns on his TV. He pots on whatever show he can find and turns down the volume. It drowns out his thoughts and puts him to sleep quicker.

And just like that the days flew past and Adam was now boarding a bus. It was loud and full of teens who seemingly had bundles of energy even though it was 7am. Adam was trying to hype himself up while sipping the coffee Lute and him bought on the way here. It was going to be a long ride full of attempts to sleep and failing because whoever the fuck on the back of the bus is playing 2000s white girl tunes and screaming them like a banshee. He wasn’t going to say anything he was happy enough. Especially that he didn’t even have to ask to be sat with Lute on the ride there. Usually you were made to sit with whoever you were sharing a cabin with but under the circumstances Adam was allowed to sit with Lute and Lucifer and Lilith sat together instead.

He was happy enough with the arrangement and stuck his headphones in. Lute was already sat by the window scrolling away on her phone. It was too early to expect her to socialise and in all honesty he didn’t want to socialise either. He needed sometime to recoup to even be able to physically live when he’d be sharing a room with Lucifer and a bunch of rowdy teenage boys for the next couple weeks.

It wouldn’t be terrible especially not when the pretty girl he masterbated too with sitting across the aisle from him. Though she was chatting up his ex girlfriend Eve and for a split second he wished he was her instead. What is he even thinking? He turns away from you and unlocks his phone scrolling through whatever he can to keep himself occupied as they set off.

You had noticed Adam. In fact you’d found yourself into him the moment you met his mother at your parents house.

You were visiting for the afternoon when you met Sera. She was a tall, elegant woman who held herself well, with dark skin and vitiligo on her cheeks and white almost luminescent eyes and lashes that made them stand out even more. She was slender and had the most beautiful grey ringlet curls you had ever seen. This is was Sera? You kind of assumed Sera was some blonde bitch who had several different baby daddies and lived off church’s money but this lady carries herself with dignity and was self assured.

She was delighted to meet you, said she’d heard so much about you. You were sure she hadn’t though. Your parents had a habit of lying when it came to you. You felt guilty that you weren’t the daughter they envisioned but they weren’t the parents they envisioned themselves to be either. So you sat there indulging in your parents lies. It was somewhat comical of how much they came up with. But what can you say it was funny. Key word was. When she started talking about how her sons Christian camp needed more leaders you felt your stomach drop.

You had half the mind to tell her your parents had been lying for years and you were in fact nor the perfect, church going daughter she had envisioned and having your parents be blackballed from the church community. But you played it off and said you would think about it and expressed pity. She looked delighted and told you her son has just broken up with his girlfriend a couple months ago. How he was perfect marriage material and how you two would make a lovely couple.

Your head was spinning. Okay first this ladies trying to convince you to go to some random camp and help out there and now she’s talking about marrying you into her family? She’s crazy especially when she brought up about her son being a virgin.

‘His names Adam and I think you too would get along great.’ She chimed and she sipped on some of the tea your mother had brewed a couple of minutes prior who stood by the counter sipping a cup of coffee looking on edge. Probably in case you slipped up on some heinous lie she told.

‘I’m sure he’s great.’ You smiled at her sipping away at your own coffee and internally trying to keep yourself sane.

‘Here look.’ She said momentarily pausing while flipping through her phone and pulling up a photo of her what you thought was going to be her dorky, repressed loser ass son who would probably live in his mothers basement till she died and he finally could have access to the whole house. But looking at the photo..

He was sexy and what can you say? You were easily bought. It helped you in other ways too!! Like you get extra credit from your university for working with kids. Totally justifiable. At least that’s what you told yourself. Damn you didn’t think you’d have a thing for conservative, Christian virgins but here you are on a bus to a Christian camp with one goal in mind. Fucking Sera’s son.

You sat down across the aisle from him and introduced yourself to Eve. You had spoken to her once or twice over text message and a couple times more in your camp counsellor group chat. But seeing her in person was a different experience.

She was etheral and you couldn’t help but feel inferior to a girl with such good looks and personality. She had dark skin and her hair was pulled into box braids. Her eyes were a deep chocolate coloured brown and looked soft. She had large breast and wide hips and stomach rolls.

She was beautiful and her smile radiated happiness as she introduced herself. She seemed happy and in her environment. She seemed the type of person who could be placed anywhere and just fit.

She told you all about her youth group and how she ran it with her now ex boyfriend. Adam.

Looking at her surely that couldn’t have been right? She was Adams ex girlfriend? She was gorgeous. The definition on beauty nobody could compare to what she looked like. It made sense though someone as gorgeous as her needed somebody to match her. And Adam and her fit like puzzle pieces intertwined they complimented each other insanely well. And he never had sex with her? If she even mentioned the word sex she would have been pinned to the bed immediately. You couldn’t understand why Adam would reject her sexual advances. Surely she’d made some, so why did he say no to her? She was the kind of woman who could make Victoria secret models feel inadequate. You wondered if that was why they had broken up. You tried not to make assumptions as you chatted to her. Maybe cracking Adam would be harder than you first assumed.

It was a long drive and felt even longer now that you had arrived. Your cabin was far and your case with heavy and your eyes practically drooped with exhaustion and your head hung low but you pulled through. You greeted the girls in your cabin warmly and expressed your excitement. You weren’t actually too happy to be here but you weren’t going to let anyone here know that.

‘Alright guys, lets get going! When we get to the cabin you’ll have fifteen minutes to get sorted and then you’ll have free time for the next two hours before dinner.’ She chimed cheerfully. That was getting old. How is she so cheerful after travelling six hours with one stop? Still you smiled as you pulled along your heavy ass suitcase.

‘Need help with that?’ Someone from behind you asked.

He sounded even hotter. Was this grounds for having children? Nope not even close. But it was him. Adam. And fuck was he sexy. Even sexier than the photos you’d seen of him.

‘Yeah.’ You stated smiling turning to face him. ‘You think you could help me with it?’ You questioned a tilt in your voice. You don’t exactly know what it is but men love to play the strong, dominant, I’m so great card a lot. Especially because they presume your helpless. You don’t necessarily like playing the ‘I’m so helpless’ princess card but if it’d stroke his ego enough..

‘Of course babe,’ he smirked smugly winking at you. ‘names Adam.’ He said picking up your case with ease and walking ahead up to your cabin.

Adam was a big guy, you knew that from the photo you say of him but seeing him in person was a different experience. Especially when he’s just picked up the case you could barely bring to your car and trug to the bus driver with ease did something to you. Maybe your just ovulating.

You followed him along with your easy carry on bag, smiling at him as he made it up the hill. ‘Thank you so much.’ You smiled at him looking up at him and slightly batting your eyes. Is that sexy? You hope it is.

He seems to think so as a grin plasters his face and he looks you up and down. ‘No problem gorgeous.’ He states looking back down the hill he sees a group of boys walking the same direction.

‘Look at that our cabin’s our right next to each other.’ He states smirking and winking at you.

‘What luck.’ You whisper loud enough for him to hear. ‘It’s been so nice to meet you Adam but I gotta go unpack.’ You state backing away smiling at him.

His face drops for a second then contorts and he looks angry and he looks like he’s going to say something but he doesn’t and just like that he’s back to smiling. ‘Yeah me too, but after orientation with our cabins the counsellors are going swimming down in the lough. You should come.’ He winks.

‘Yeah I will, see you then.’ You wink back retreating up the steps to your cabin and pulling your case into your assigned room.

The rooms are nice, cosy actually. The bed’s are made of wood with red bedsheets and white pillows and it reminds you of one of those winter cabins you’d find in the Christmas movies. They’re tiny to preserve space but you’d rather that than a bunk bed. You both have a wardrobe each and a mirror. The room isn’t terrible but you’d have to make do with the space at least for now. So unzipping your case you start to unpack your clothes and shoes into the wardrobe.

‘Hey, you nearly ready?’ Eve chimed while popping head round the corner of the door.

‘Yeah, practically all done.’ You replied.

‘Great, I forgot to tell you we’re all going swimming later, well the counsellors. You want to join? I totally want to get to know you better and everyone else would love to meet you.’ Eve said. She was so soft spoken and genuine it made you want to hug her.

‘Oh yeah, Adam mentioned that to me I’d love to.’ Her face contorted for a second into confusion but it’s almost like she realised what face she was making and went back to making her perky, happy face.

‘I’m SO excited, I can already tell we’re gonna have the BEST time together.’ She said walking towards you and taking your hand. Her hands were warm but not in a sweaty way but in a comforting way, it felt like taking a mother’s hand warm and soft.

‘Me too.’ You replied smiling at her as she kept your hand in hers dragging you to the living room for orientation.

Walking to the lough wasn’t long but Eve made it longer by pointing everything out and practically speaking to everyone she had any relation too or people she did not know. She’d been here every year since she was thirteen and now she was in her twenties. Doesn’t she get bored, apparently not.

Walking down the steps you took off your cover on and flip flops and placed your towel and phone on top of them. Scanning the lough your eyes fell on Adam who was sitting on a paddle board looking bored but as he looked up and locked eyes with you he smiled waving you over to him. So You pushed yourself down the ladder and into the water.

It was hell, the water was cold and any joy you had before this had been sucked out of you. Your face said it all as a little farther in the distance you could her Adam laughing at you. You glared at him as you made your way over.

‘You good down there?’ He asked still laughing slightly.

‘No.’ You quivered, teeth chattering. ‘Help me up I’m freezing.’ You practically yelped but Adam looked down at you with a shit-eating grin.

‘Uh-no, I’m good.’ He smirked chuckling to himself.

‘Fu- frick.’ You cursed changing your word mid sentences. Christians don’t curse. ‘I’ll do it myself.’ You stated repeating the ‘I can do it’ mantra in your head. You pulled yourself up slightly your hands clasped on the edge as you pulled yourself further but Adam just had to be an asshole. Of course he did as he pushed his foot towards you and pushed it against your chest causing you to plummet backwards under the water.

As you resurfaced choking on the water you’d just inhaled Adam cackled at you and your predicament. You clasped at the side of the paddle board and you rubbed under your eyes blinking the water out of them to help you see.

‘Here babe.’ Adam calls helping you up and sitting you beside him. You open your eyes fully looking at him.

‘You got a little makeup.’ He states rubbing the black mascara marks on your cheeks away with his thumb. You lean into his touch as he cups your cheek and squishes it slightly. You push away and smile as him bring your knees close to your face. He scrunches his nose and pushes you back off the paddle board and jumps in. You screech as he swims away and you try to catch him. You play around with him till the other counsellors announce they are going back to shower. You stay back with Adam. It’s not like you could use the shower if Eve was in it.

Adam sighs as he lays back on the paddle board you previously sat on. You lay beside him tired out yourself. ‘I fucking hat it here.’ He groans placing his hands over his face. Your surprised ro hear him curse but you turn to him before turning your head back to the sky.

‘Any particular reason?’ You question trying not to pry but what can you your a major gossip. And a slut but that’s besides the point.

‘That fucker Lucifer and his soon to be wife Lilith the fucking snakes.’ He hisses. ‘Stole my fucking girl and now I have to see her everyday and get reminded that she fucked them.’ He went silent.

‘That sucks.’ You sigh. You don’t really have anything else to say apart from that. You weren’t really sure if anything you said with help.

‘Yeah it really does, but fuck her she’s missing out.’ He puffs his chest with somewhat pride. Okay he bounces back quick.

‘From what exactly? A virgin?’ You sneer, not with malice but more jokingly.

‘Who said I was a virgin?’ He yells, sitting up and dramatically looking at you. You have half the mind to tell you his mother told you but you don’t.

‘I can tell.’ You state back to him as he glares at you before looking away embarrassed.

‘And your not?’ He queries.

‘A virgin? Hell no, lost that a LONG time ago.’ You laugh at his shocked expression before an idea pops into your head.

‘Hey Adam?’

‘What?’ He questions.

“Wanna see something?” You question lips curling into a tight smirk. Adam nods hesitantly unsure of what kind of surprise you’d pull in the middle of the lake.

You slowly and carefully lifted down the top piece of your bikini exposing your breast and hardened nipple.

The shock on Adam’s face was all you needed to see as you swiftly lifted your bikini back up to cover yourself again and giggled.

You placed your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself afloat and giggled “Do you like that?” You mused. He sputtered on water as he tries to recollect himself. Was Sera sure this girl was Christian?

You giggled at him as you swum back, he followed in toe grabbing his stuff.

‘You know if you wanna learn I’ll teach you.’ He looked away obviously flustered before flipping you off and cussing you out. You started to walk off but before you did you turned around and spoke.

‘Oh yeah and Adam? You might wanna fix that before the meeting, not very professional you know?” You smirk suggestively, attempting to make eye contact with the more than flustered man to no avail. Turning on your heels you walked off back to your cabin to unpack the rest of your shit you hadn’t got to before orientation and shower before your dreaded meeting. You heard him yelling in the distance. Something about how you could only dream of sucking his dick? Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

The meeting went by fine but you could see Adam stare at you every so often and his boner was gone. At least he knew how to do something you thought. As you sat by the campfire roasting marshmallows with your cabin and conversing. You could feel Adam’s gaze on you but you ignored it choosing to leave him to make the first move, which may take a while. So as you packed up for the night as walked back to the cabin hearing Adam call you wasn’t what you expected. His cabin was all packed in for the night as he walked towards you.

‘You forgot something earlier, come on it’s on our balcony.’ He mumbled dragging you along inside. The cabin layout was basically the same as yours and you could hear boys chattering and moving around and room light’s under closed doors. You walked towards the balcony with Adam. Walking outside he closed the door behind him and walked you over to where you couldn’t be seen behind the curtain.

‘What’d I l forget?’ You questioned. You didn’t remembering leaving anything but to be fair you we’re forgetful and didn’t realise until the last possible moment that you forgot something so.

‘This.’ He said approaching you and pulling you into him. He met your lips and kissed you. He placed his hands on your hips and picked you up placing you on the nearby table. You clung your arms around his neck pulling at his hair and deepening the kiss. He groaned as your tongues clashed together. He leaned you back breaking away from the kiss and sucking at your neck. Fuck you we’re gonna have to cover that but you didn’t have the willpower to make him stop as he moved down to between your legs. He looked up at you like a lost puppy. He didn’t know how to proceed.

You sat back up and undid your pants pulling them off. Adam copied and watched as you pulled down your underwear and showed him your pussy. He looked in awe.

‘Wanna eat me out?’ You asked. He nodded moving his hands to your thighs as you leaned back down.

Adam was hesitant at first but quickly got the hang of it as he licked up your clit. A moan escaped your mouth your legs threatening to close around his head. Adam suddenly gained momentum as he sloppily started making out with your pussy, sucking away at you as if he was drunk.

You bit down on your hand to prevent your moans from becoming louder and risking getting caught as Adam kept his pace as he tongue fucked your cunt and you could feel the pleasure start to pool in your stomach and you could feel yourself getting close.

Adam mumbled against your pussy ‘You taste so good.’ He whispered before continuing to kiss as your hole.

Adam’s nose moved against your cunt and you felt yourself beginning to release and you came undone around him moaning his name. Adam wasted no time in licking up your cum.

As he moved away from your still wet pussy you could see his erection outlining his boxers. He moved to your lips sloppily against his. You could taste yourself on him but you didn’t seem to care as he pulled away and pulled off his boxers.

Looking down his dick was girthy and totally big. Fuck were you in for it if he could figure out how to use it. But he’d never used his tongue and was still one of the only guys to make you cum so he has to be doing something right.

‘I’m not using a fucking condom so let’s hope I knock some fucking decency into you slut.’ He groans as he slides his dick into your cunt.

It feels electric as you ride on the ecstasy as Adam pumps inside of you. He knows what he’s doing as he whispers curses and nasty words at you.

‘You like that whore? Tell me how much you like it?’ He grunts pulsing inside you still as you babble incoherent sentences totally high on his dick.

‘Use your words baby.’ He whispers into your ear. ‘Does daddy make you feel good?’ He questioned. The use of the term daddy in any other scenario would make you cringe but the way Adam said it made it sound sexy.

‘Yes.’ You hissed as he continued thrusting into you and hitting your G spot just right and just like that you came undone under Adam for the second time that night. He might be a virgin but he KNOWS how to fuck. That’s for sure.

Adam came soon after right inside you. Kind of made you wish you weren’t on the pill so you could have his baby.

Adam practically came in buckets to put it bluntly. His head was lying on your shoulder as he pulled out of you and you could feel the cum running down your legs. Hopefully nobody seems. But you couldn’t say you didn’t exactly wish that. You hoped someone would see in a way. Getting caught is thrilling and especially at a Christian camp.

Recollecting yourself you pulled up your undies and felt Adam’s cum mixed with your own squelch against them as it rubbed up against your already sensitive clit. You choked back a moan as you pulled your jeans back up buttoning them.

You sat at the edge of the table waiting for Adam to speak as he dressed himself. He walked towards you situating himself between you legs and lifting your chin up to softly kiss you. You were entranced in the kiss when you heard someone calling your name.

‘Fuck I gotta go.’ You whispered hearing Eve call your name. You pecked at Adam’s lips as you slid off the table and opened the door. ‘Goodnight Adam.’ You mumbled, winking at him and closing it behind you and running out the door to meet Eve and drag her back inside with you.

Adam leaned back against the table. Fuck was that was amazing. Just as he was about to get up to go back inside someone came out to meet him. It was one of his campers. The ones he was responsible.

‘Hey um Adam?’ Isaac called. He hummed as he moved next to him. ‘I have something to ask you but it’s kind of awkward.’ He trailed off looking to the ground.

Adam smiled at him. ‘Ask away, I’m here to teach you and guide you.’ The way he spoke differentiated between the kids and the way he spoke to you. It was kind of comedic how fast he could switch up from being a manwhore to a holy man. Vast difference between the two but Adam could be both.

‘You see I keep falling into lust..’ He mumbled. ‘And I’m really trying not too but I find it really hard. And I guess I was wondering how to deal with it? How you’d deal with it?.’ He questioned. He sounded exasperated of all options at this point and Adam was proud to guide him in the right direction. To tell him what he would do.

Suddenly Adam’s stomach dropped. Wait what did he do? Lust is a sin. But not only lust, sex. Sex before marriage is a sin. He just committed one of the most terrible sins and felt no remorse until a fucking child asked him? Is he being serious?

What had Adam done? He’d went against his beliefs and what he stood for. His morals something he swore to never do till marriage with a girl he JUST met. What had he done? How could he make up for this? No, no no. This can’t be happening it’s not real. Adam stumbled over his words and talked about prayer and reading the Bible and how it really helps and sent Isaac back to bed and he thanked him profusely as Adam smiled but inside he felt suffocated. How could he guide children and help them when he was going against everything he and they believed in? Adam knelt down on the floor and prayed. I mean what else could he do?

[talenlee]

do you have any thoughts on how (if at all) the Toy Story films impacted how children play with their toys?

Yeah, quite a bit.

Toy Story is a 1995 animated feature film by Pixar Studios, distributed by Disney, that serves as one of those iconic examples of early 3d Animation that ‘holds up’ over time by people who haven’t gone back and looked at any of the humans in it. With the voice talents of Tom Hanks and Tim Toolman, it follows the narrative of a pull-string cowboy doll competing with a kung-fu action grip spaceman toy for the attention of their gigantically towering owner, whom they must never allow to know that they live, breath, and know his name.

For kids!

Look, classic yada yada, groundbreaking yada yada, wholesome yada yada. I actually got to see this one while inside a controlled christian media bubble, and if tomorrow I found out all copies of it had been deleted I would react like that ‘oh no, anyway,’ meme. It is not a movie for which I have an enormous amount of affection. I don’t want to talk to you about the narrative, though, not of Wilson’s Best Friend negotiating with the Last Man Standing about which of them will be more validated by an actual literal child and the ontological questions of why aren’t the parts of Mr Potato Head independently alive?

I want to talk to you about the humans of Toy Story. Specifically, about Andy, and Sid, and the weird world they live in, and the weird world they’ve created.

Andy’s a weird kid.

Andy’s a weird kid, in this specific case, because of the toys he loves.

Andy’s collection of toys features a lot of things that were, for want of better phrasing, are old. Plastic army men, Mr Potato Head, metal slinky dogs. In 1995, none of that stuff looked like the heavily branded, overmerchandised toys I was used to. Kid didn’t own any legos? No rainbow vomit coloured plastic slinky?

Sure, my collection had some old toys in it. That was because I was poor, and we got a lot of toys from the Salvation Army story or second hand from the throwouts in the church charity bins.

Thing is, as toys, Woody and Buzz aren’t really like the toys I was interested in during the 1990s. Cowboys weren’t cool. Cowboys were old. Cowboys were shown on TV in largely black and white. Cowboys were always about being sour and mad and long periods of nothing happening and nobody did a single kick flip and there weren’t any ninjas. Buzz Lightyear looked extremely embarrassing, and not like the kids’ toys of the time. He didn’t transform, he was big and chunky and not an action figure. Lords knows he wasn’t going to stand up to either GI Joe or Action Man. The scale was all fucked up, he clearly cost a lot, and we never saw signs of playsets or vehicles in the movie.

Though I say that, and you know what he did look a lot like, size wise? GI Joe. Not my GI Joe, from the 1990s, which were the size of my thumbs and cost five dollars so you could army-build. Original GI Joe, from the 1960s, which was a much taller toy, literally a foot tall. You know, like how tall Buzz Lightyear is.

My point is: Buzz Lightyear is not a 90s toy. He was a toy that looked like a boomer’s toys. Andy, a child created to fit in 1995, in a large expensive home with lots of toys, has lots of old toys. Andy has toys that speak to growing up in the sixties, with one toy that’s meant to be a toy of the 90s that’s still kinda not.

But now those toys are iconic kids’ toys, now, because Toy Story became a classic, and people who saw it as kids had kids and shared it with their kids. That is, the parents saw Toy Story and went ‘oh that’s fine for my kids,’ then those kids passed on Toy Story to their kids, and so on and now thanks to it being interdimensional meme cryptid’s extended tentacles into our reality, Woody and Buzz are now iconic kid’s toys that rely on being this sort of post-packaged boomer nostalgia.

That’s the wildest thing. The combination of Andy’s wealth and diversity of toys (why do you have a ceramic Bo Peep statue?)  creates this weird impression of Andy being somehow a child with vintage toys that represent taste thirty years older than him. If Andy was poor and isolated it’d make a ton of sense for him to have all these old toys and none of the newest, coolest toys, like Sid has.

I’ve written about Sid in the past, in part because I think he’s the only character in the entire universe I have any real fondness for.

Well okay, maybe Rex.

Anyway, Sid’s poor? Like, his house, next door to Andy’s, is grungy and grimy and there’s a question about how Andy’s house is so nice and clean and fancy and Sid’s is basically a hell dungeon, but in hindsight it’s kind of hard to look at it and not see it as classic Disney Fisher King stuff. You know, the way that when Scar ruled Pride Rock, there was a drought, and the second Scar was replaced by Simba, there was rain. In this case, Sid, being bad, has a house that’s full of Badness, and Andy, being a good kid, has a good house.

But Sid is signalled as being poor. Everything in the house is grungy and secondhand, and he’s constantly playing with toys that have been discarded or lost, and he modifies them. Sid is curious and creative and yes, destructive, and he’s destructive of things that, as far as he knows until the movie decides to massively traumatise him, are just toys.

Like, think about that. Sid damages and messes with toys but he uses that to make other toys, to make things he plays with. His play is seem as scary and traumatising, because… what? Because he violates the ‘proper’ image of the toy. The toy that is not properly preserved, the toy that is torn in pieces and put together again is seen as somehow violated because it is no longer’ right.’ The implication there unstated is that toys are ‘right’ when they are sold to you, and when you change them from that product, they are ‘wrong.’

Sid’s sin is making his own toys, and he is punished by the avatar of a multinational company that will sell you toys that are right.

There’s this fun story beat, where in Toy Story 3, you find that Sid is now a garbage collector. You can see him wearing the same shirt, and dancing happily as he collects trash. In the garbage dump in that movie, you’ll find there are also no toys, which creates the strange question of how things get that way. A story that explains this, a story I like, is that Sid, with the skills he has with toys, took the job as a garbage collector to rescue these tiny sentient creatures from humanity discarding them and is running some sort of toy game preserve in his home. After all, he is, as far as we know, the only human aware that toys are alive.

And he’s the asshole, not the seeming adults who traumatise a kid for playing with toys. Sid, after all, doesn’t play nice.

Source.

[actuallyfallen]

Archetropy and Personal Choice

I had heard the word "archetrope" around the alterhuman community before the OtherCon (the biggest convention for alterhumans) 2023. Although in vague terms, I had heard of it. I sort of got the vibe from the word, so I never felt the need to look into it. A vague sort of, "Identifying with an archetype, or a trope from media," vibe. What came to mind for me was tropes like the knight, the prince, the rogue. Classic roles. The stuff you'd see on tarot cards or such. The alterhuman community is known to look down on "newer" sources of identity, after all (see the long-standing hesitancy to accept fictionkin).

So, when I joined the panel being hosted by someone named Vyt (who can be found on tumblr, as @thelightfluxtastic) all about archetropy, I thought I knew what to expect.

Vyt described their archetype as "the right-hand man".

Well, Vyt mostly talked about "the paladin" as their main tropetype. But that was the sort of archetype I expected. "The right-hand man" may not be considered a "modern" archetype, but the specific phrase of "right-hand man" for it feels rather new in comparison to how I viewed archetropy before.

My mom was a pastor.

She was in charge of a very large building, which acted as a place for church services on Sundays, and as a kindergarten during the day. I remember watching my mom being up on the church's stage. I didn't learn until I was an adult that she actually had stage fright. I remember stalling whenever I went to the principal's office, because, of course I went to my mom's school for kindergarten. And going to the principal's office when your mom is the principal is certainly… a time, of sorts.

I was a good little Christian kid, though. I was a trouble child due to my undiagnosed autism making me seem "rude" to everyone around me, but I followed what my parents taught me to believe. One could hardly say I was doing so on purpose, though. I didn't even know there was any other option, after all.

Vyt went on to define archetropy as looking at an archetype or trope or such, and saying either, "I am that," "That's want I want to be," or both. Though Vyt also makes a point to say that "archetropy", as a term, was coined specifically to be both linguistically flexible and very broad in definition. It can be involuntary, voluntary, intrinsic, extrinsic, 'identify-as', 'identify-with'…

Vyt also discussed connections to kintypes for archetropal reasons. For example, being dragonkin because one identifies with how the trope of dragons are shown in media.

I can trace multiple kintypes of mine straight down to the same root. This Christian upbringing of mine. Surrounded by it. Suffocated by it.

My mom would often work late, so, as she locked herself in her office, I would be left alone in this huge building. I often stayed in the auditorium during those times. I didn't like the big, open area, so I'd often hunker down in one of the two more closed-off areas. Those two areas were surrounded by walls, but were very small and had no doors, thus, considered a part of the auditorium. One was decorated in green and black. It had beanbags, a step to sit on, and a chalkboard that covered the entirety of one of the walls. The other was pink. It had two chairs and a whiteboard. Covered with sparkly materials, it was hard to leave without some of it sticking to you.

I hated the pink room. Specifically, I hated the texture of everything. Almost everything had this god-awful fuzzy texture that was almost feather-like. The chairs, the rug, the walls. Even the pens there had a grip made of this texture. I couldn't stand it.

But every time the church children my age were there, the boys would go to the green area, and the girls to the pink. The teachers and other officials would call them "the girl room" and "the boy room". The boys and girls would often have one person standing guard near, or in, the door, just to make sure nobody of the opposite gender even got close to their room.

Even when I was alone, in that huge auditorium, I couldn't bear to enter the boy's room. It was wrong. But the first time I did, and I layed down on the beanbag, I exclaimed to my little brother, "It's no fair that you guys get these!" I was so much more comfortable there.

But, still, I rarely came in, even after the barrier was breached. I stayed away on purpose. I made my brother promise to not tell anyone I was there.

I was supposed to be a good girl. Never mind my intersex condition – a good GIRL. One who likes pink, who likes my church dress, and who likes the fuzzy, feathery textures with a smile, for the sake of how others see her. For the sake of fulfilling my God-given role.

As Vyt talked more and more about archetropy, it became clearer to me that modern tropes and archetypes were absolutely included. "The mad scientist" was named as an example. TV Tropes was named as a place to find a list of tropes and archetypes in media.

The TV Tropes page for "The Pastor's Queer Kid", describes the trope like this: "[The pastor's] kids seem to be every bit as perfect as they are, and have the perfect relationship with them. Well, except for one. You see, this one has a secret they're not sure about admitting to their parent. The secret being… Well, this kid isn't heterosexual (and/or cisgender, etc., as the case may be)."

I remember finding the page for this trope and lighting up. Scrolling right down to the "media" section, to see if there were any pieces of media with this trope that I would be interested in. Seeing one of my already-present kintypes there and giggling a little bit to myself. Oh, I'm so predictable! Of course I'd already have a character like this as a kintype.

I realized I was queer very young. Too naive to think better of it, I came out to my parents too soon. Not even a teenager yet, I had to comfort my mother as she cried over me being queer. One of the biggest God-fearers around, I was struck silent when my mom expressed that she feared me going to Hell, and her going to Heaven.

She phrased it as, "What will I do without my child in Heaven? You have scared me so much. I have given you a role to fulfill, and you have failed. Now, I must watch the one I love be punished."

She told her child that they would go to Hell, and be separated from everyone they love for eternity. Poor her.

(Pay no attention to the child, parentified and afraid. Do not look at the way its breath hitches when she says this. The look of disbelief on its face. She really thinks I'm going to Hell…?)

(Look at her, now. She is the victim. This is her spotlight.)

It took me years of purposeful work to undo the toxic mentality that I was taught. About purity, about martyrdom, about the flames of Hell licking every queer's feet. And I still get nightmares sometimes, but I'm proud of how far I've come. When I feel a surge of queer joy, when I see a queer person's smile, when I experience gender euphoria, I know this is it. This is what I've been fighting for. And I know that it's worth it.

I searched TV Tropes for other tropes that fit me, halfheartedly picking up a few more. I wanted an excuse to list "my tropes" on my website's 'about' page, just to add "The Pastor's Queer Kid" on it. I didn't care about the other ones I listed – I just wanted them to be there so I could feel like I had a reason to put that one in particular.

When the archetrope panel was coming to a close, and taking questions, I typed into the chat, "If people are certain archetypes or tropes in real life, would someone like that be able to identify as an archetype? Even if they technically just are it?"

I am my mom's child. I am queer. I struggled against the religion I was suffocated by, and came out the other side damaged, but alive. I try to let people know the sort of harm this upbringing can cause. I am purposefully open about this aspect of myself.

Vyt answered my question. "My default answer is gonna be, ‘Sure.' Like… I think there's something powerful in embracing something, on purpose."

On purpose, I am The Pastor's Queer Kid.

[fan-goddess]

Hello my love!! For your kinktober event, could I request modern!Aemond with religious guilt?? 👁️🫦👁️

Authors Note: Oooh I will definitely try for you baby! I don’t know much about the topic of religion due to me being raised in a non-religious household, but I will certainly try my best!

I’ve made merged Christianity and the religion of the seven together and I talk about religion a lot in this, but like I said I don’t know a lot about the topic, so if I get any certain terminology wrong or anything like that, please don’t hesitate to let me know so I can try and do my best to correct myself and add it into the one-shot! I will not be offended at all!

Warnings: Religious guilt, m masturbation, blasphemy, a lot of religious guilt, sort of religious trauma maybe???, lying to a priest, most likely incorrect quotes from the bible, I think I got Adam and eves story wrong on that last bit, (if I miss anything like I know I probably will or if just you want me to add anything let me know!”

Taglist: @valeskafics, @sofiyathecunt , @marvelgirl123 , @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @omgbrcat

Please read the authors note before reading if you haven’t already!

Ever since Aemond could remember, it had been customary for him and his family to go to church every Sunday, without any arguments.

Each time Aegon, Helaena and himself would be dressed in their Sunday bests, which all held some variation of green in them, and greet the pastor with only pure respect.

His mother though also expected him and his siblings to go into the confession box, and confess their sins weekly to the pastor.

One time when Aemond was seven, he wanted an extra cookie after dinner, but his mother has said a firm no and told him off. However, ignoring his mothers advice, Aemond decided to climb onto the counter later that evening to sneak another from the tin, even when his mother said no.

When she found him, she smacked him three times on his rear with her hand for a punishment and when Sunday came about, she all shoved him inside the confession box, where he was forced to confess his sins to the man on the other side.

The moment stayed with him for years. It imbedded something inside of him. A fear of god. A fear of those sins the pastor would preach about confessing over.

That fear at the current moment seemed to be very directed at you. It had been years since the cookie incident, as he was a college boy now. A man even. Studying the philosophical and physical history of the world.

He thought they were safe subjects to pick to satisfy his ever hungry mind. Yet the safety vanishes when he locked eyes on you in a gorgeous light blue summer dress one innocent morning.

The straps were thinner than the dresses he’d seen before, and the one you wore went well above your knees, stopping closer to the middle of your upper thighs.

When you crossed your legs during class, Aemond had seen so much skin that he practically felt lightheaded at the sight, his fist curling so much his knuckles turned white from how tighty he clenched them.

He could feel the sinfulness of his thoughts curling up into one large glutinous monster begging for scraps.

The thoughts of being with you as a married couple do. Him coming home to you where you would greet him at the door, pregnant with his child. Taking you on his and your wedding night on the bed, naked as the day you were born.

It made his head spin dreadfully. As he’d never even spoken to you before that day, let alone noticed you. But maybe, maybe this was some sort of test by the seven? A temptation he must resist to prove himself faithful to what he believes.

The thought comes to him that night as he fucks his fist to the thought of you.

Aemond had never done so before. It never felt right thinking about the sinful women online who paraded their bodies for the world. Yet why did it feel so good when he thought of you?

The thought stayed with him constantly over the couple months. He’d see you in class. Now devoted to sitting behind you when possible to get a glimpse of you where you couldn’t see him.

Only his plan to stay in the dark didn’t go to plan. When one Sunday after church, and his family’s eating dinner together, he gets a text from an unknown number on his phone.

His eyebrow raised on its own in surprise, and as he texts asking who it, and gets an swift answer back not even a minute later, he can feel his heart practically going into cardiac arrest. Because it’s your name that responds to his question.

Aemond doesn’t answer your question though till early next morning. It had felt strange to text you that day. For him to talk to this temptation of his on a holy day. So he waited for it to turn 00:01 so the weighing on his conscious would leave him for now.

And when he saw your text the next morning agreeing on the time, the strange feeling that blooms in his chest gets pushed back as much as it could.

Yet the feeling only came back even quicker and harsher when he met you in the library that day.

His hands would find themselves clenching by his side whenever you folded your arms in annoyance, and his eyes would find themselves drawn to your accentuated boobs. His nails would dig into his palms so harshly a couple times Aemond felt as though he needed to check for fresh blood. Yet even if he did draw blood, he wouldn’t care. It was his penance for his sins.

When you finished the homework, he can remember the feeling of your body on his as you hugged him suddenly. Too shocked and surprised to even think about hugging you back. Not that he felt like he even deserved it in the first place.

“Thank you so much Aemond! I seriously was thinking I was gonna fail this on my own! How can I make it up?” You asked, looking up at with shining eyes.

“You don’t need to do anything for me. I was just being a good classmate.” Aemond learnt the hard way as a child to not bring up anything to do with religion when this sort of stuff came up.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t need to be big! You could make me give you another hug if you wanted? Or I could maybe bake you something? Seriously if you don’t want anything now I’ll probably end up doing all these things trying to make it up to you!” You beg, your eyes looking unusually stern at him.

He feels torn.

On the one hand, he feels as though if he took anything in return, he will be seen by the gods as being eager to be righteous. In the holy book, it was said "Be careful not to do your acts of righteousness' before men, to be seen by them.” There is always the possibility that this is one of your tests. Testing his willingness and eagerness for recognition from the gods.

But there is a sense of greed within him that urges for him to accept this temptation. A horrible greedy think that wants to take and take and take until there is nothing left.

It’s a horrible war inside of him. But in the end, the devil has his arm locked tightly.

“Fine. I’ll take a hug or something.” It’s said with so little emotion, and yet when he feels your arms around him the warmth in his chest reminds him of the flames of hell.

Where he belongs after what he did that night.

That night, Aemond held his erect cock in his hand and thrusted into it until his hot seed spilled all over his stomach. It felt sinful as when he was fondling himself, only images of you filled his head. The feeling of your warmth as you held him earlier that day fresh in his head as he couldn’t contain himself.

It felt so wrong afterwords, and yet whilst he was on the verge of cumming, the thought of you being there whilst he did this and helping him to complete himself was what sent him over the edge. And afterwards, the shame hit him hard.

He confessed it all when he went to confession that Sunday, and yet the pastor did little to help him achieve the advice he wanted. The penance in Aemonds mind was not enough.

Aemond remembers what he said to the man well. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been one week since my last confession, and I have been lead to temptation. I have been thinking of a person who belongs not to the church, and I have been thinking of her sexually. The thoughts do not stop father, how do I make the temptations stop?”

“My son,” The priest began, “The sins you tell me of I have seen before. Please, tell this woman of your thoughts so you can confess to her of your challenge, and in the meantime, pray to the gods for forgiveness every night before then. Give thanks to the Lords and ladies for They are good.”

Aemond hated to respond and end this moment, but he couldn’t stop the automatic response. “Their mercy endures forever.”

“Your sins are forgiven. Go in peace.”

Aemond was not in peace, and if anything the war inside of him was as hardening as ever.

“Thanks be to the Gods…” Aemond murmurs before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

Aemond that night sins again. And again the next night, and even the night after that. Aemond fists his hard cock and cums to the thought of your body every night till his next confession, where Aemond for the first time in his life lies to his priest about his sins. He does not mention that he never talked to you about him fucking himself to the thought of you, even when the priest mentions it, asking Aemond whether he has asked for your forgiveness. The lie felt like tar on his tongue when he uttered yes.

Everything within him in fact felt like there was a war inside him, a war that raged between the good and the bad.

When he talks to you innocently enough asking if you wanted some more help with the subject, Aemond makes use of each syllable you say and how you say it to complete himself later that day.

It’s sinful, it’s wrong, and yet it feels so fucking right when he does it.

One night whilst Aemond reread his worn down bible, he got to the section of Adam and Eve and though with a sick thrill that he was Adam, and you were his Eve. He was living in innocent bliss whilst you tried to tempt him with your apple of sins.

Aemond reads the verse thoroughly, and in the place of Adam and Eves faces he sees his and your own. It’s a horrible thing, but he imagines the scenario of you tempting him under the apple tree while his hand is on his cock.

Your back is to the tree, and Aemond is taking what is his from you whilst you moan at the feeling. Him and you experiencing pleasure and desire for the first time in yours’ lives and you can’t get enough of it as you whine and moan for more.

He even imagines afterwards, when him and you wonder earth whilst your stomach is swollen with his babe. It’s what makes him spill himself all over his stomach and hand, and what makes him realise what a sinner he is.

He will never tell you, he will never tell his priest, and Aemond is certain he will never tell the Gods on what he has done. Yet he doesn’t have to, for the Gods are omnipresent and omniscient.

They already knows where he belongs.

[gayashawol]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

Ships: Kim Kibum x Male Pastor!Y/N

Genre: Smut, Angsty (It’s kinda hurt but also comfort???)

Word Count: 4000+ words

Content Warning(s): Past Child Molestation (There’s a flashback part, but it’s not very detailed), Dealing with Trauma, Sex, Dark Religious Themes, Religious Trauma

Author’s Notes: Yes, I know I said I don’t allow any sort of rape in any of my stories, but a friend suggested me to do this sort of thing and made me realise that I’ve gone through something similar where I wanted to do something again. So pretty much, this is what the story is going. It is a bit of a weird one, but I hope I was able to convey Key’s emotions well. Also, Key is in his 20s and the Pastor is about in his 40s.

I still think about what happened, the way he touched me, the way he went about it, and even the way my parents reacted when I finally told them.

While I did feel some sort of guilt, I also had this strange feeling inside of me that would admit that I liked it. Maybe I was in denial, or maybe I was being serious. I didn’t know how to feel, or how I could go about my life without pinpointing exactly the feeling I was getting.

Nonetheless, I knew I wanted to do it again.

—

It was something I thought about for years on end, and I hadn’t been able to tell anyone. I was just ashamed, or maybe people would assume that I was lying for clout.

I knew that it was something that truly happened to me, I even had the very clothes that I wore on that day. I remembered what I ate for breakfast, what my mother was planning on making me for dinner, and even down to a couple of minutes before the incident.

I never went to therapy for my pain, nor I ever went back to church. My parents were disappointed, grounding me every time I missed one day for a week until I went. It was at that very moment that my faith was crippled.

I tend to cry when I think of my emotions, but this time was different. A part of me wanted to move on, even though I didn’t know how to. That was when I was on the phone with my parents, explaining about the pain that I’d been going through. They suggested me to go back, but I wasn’t sure.

My parents hated the fact that I was an atheist. The amount of screaming matches I had to go through, just because they wanted to force the bible on me. Every single time I tell them to stop, they get louder and louder. I had no power over them, and I would feel trapped within myself.

However, this was the first time I agreed with them. I was in my 20s, surely he would change. I shook my head, before cutting off to process exactly what I was about to do.

I planned my trip to my hometown, packing up clothes I would know they would approve. I knew I had to look as manly as possible, especially when I go to church. I took in a crisped grey suit and pants, with a bow on them.

A couple of days later, I finally made that trip and was at the front door of my parents’ house. They seemed so happy to see me upon opening and letting me in, but the facade broke away, and their strictness was back.

“Kibum, if you’re staying here, you will need to go to church with us every Sunday.” I sighed, face-palming while contemplating why I thought it would be a good idea to come back home. I knew I’d only be here for a week, but just the memories coming back made it ten times worse.

I saw my childhood room, thinking about all the times I cried alone in my bed that day. I just wish I could speak to my past self and comfort him. Everything here was filled with horrible thoughts, and not even the TV was safe. The amount of Christian content that I had to watch was concerning. I used to be made fun of at school for not watching shows that all the kids were watching simply because it wasn’t allowed.

I saw a picture of my younger self, in a suit ready to go to church. Right next to it, there was another picture of me, but I was being baptised. It was the happiest day of my life. I thought that I was going to love Jesus forever and be a Christian for the rest of my life. Sadly, that wouldn’t be the case.

I woke up to my parents knocking on my door to get ready to go to church. I was very nervous, yet I put on a brave face as I took a shower to clear my mind. Maybe, this was going to be fine, right?

When I got ready to go into the car, I saw my father waiting outside while my mother walked slowly down the stairs. We didn’t live that far from our local church, but my parents always insisted on walking together like a family. I never understood that, even now as an adult.

I was finally at the place where I feared, the hall. Everyone was walking in, chatting to one and another while I sat alone. Seeing how “lonely” I looked according to my mother, as she was chatting to one of my childhood friends, she introduced me to him, causing me to awkwardly wave my hand as the both of them stared in my direction.

I’ve been an adult for some time now, and even listening to the pastor speaking felt like a bore. But then, he stared at me — and we locked eyes for a whole second before turning back to the crowd, and the service suddenly got somewhat interesting. He seemed happier now that I was here, which felt sweet on its own but weird. How did he know who I was even though I was 10 when I last saw him?

My mind was puzzling in my head, and before I could even process what just happened, the church was over. I didn’t even realise the time until my mother tapped me on the shoulder for food.

I sat down at a table alone, not wanting to sit next to my parents. I had a plate full of rice, bulgogi and kimchi, and ate slowly but steadily. As I was just forgetting about what just happened, I saw Pastor Y/N walking towards me. My eyes widened, and I was still in shock by the time he reached me.

“Is this seat free?” He asked. I shook my head and he sat by me. He still had the same scent 10 years later. He hasn’t even changed a thing at all! As a matter of fact, he looked even better!

“Kibum… you’ve grown so much! I’m so glad you decided to come by today!” He seemed polite in nature, and didn’t seem to have any malicious intentions. I mean, it was normal for him to go up to people and speak to them.

But then, the incident started playing in my head. I stood as still as a rock, looking down so he couldn’t see me. I wanted to ask but was nervous. What if he wasn’t the same guy anymore? Surely he could do me one last time…

“Hey, Kibum… can I invite you to dinner tomorrow?” I quickly agreed, nothing trying to take time to think about what I was getting myself into.

Tomorrow felt like a breeze, I didn’t even remember what I did when I was going home. I did remember my mother pulling me into a corner away from my father just to ask me if Pastor Y/N did anything to me. I kept quiet, shaking my head as I looked back at Mother to see if my answer was verified.

“I saw him chatting to you today. He told me he misses you after all these years, and wants to see you in Church more. He could help you build your relationship with God again.” I tried not to roll my eyes for the 8th time, but I wanted to keep the lies going… unless I wasn’t.

I was invited to come for dinner at Pastor Y/N’s. I knew it was something I didn’t want to share with my parents, as I knew that it would come with something more than just two consenting adults meeting in a house.

That very night, I made sure to buy some condoms and lube to bring with me in case anything escalated. I planned out an outfit that seemed masculine enough so he wouldn’t raise an eyebrow at me — even though I was sure that he knew for a fact that I was not a heterosexual man.

I fell asleep, seeing the man that I always dreamed of being close to — but was unsure how to feel about it. As an adult, I felt like a kid again. He held my hand like he was crossing the road, reminding me to look both ways before walking. I saw the road form around me, seeing each sparkle and star create the world around us, seeing familiar people appearing one by one.

It was then that I was brought into the Church, people were singing while praying at the same time. There were too many people, so Pastor Y/N took me backstage where the changing rooms were. At that point, my heart started pounding. This was the moment that it happened, his hand landed on my thighs so he could stroke them. His hands were rough and scratchy, they were also huge enough to cover the whole diameter of my legs from my thighs to my ankles.

My dress pants were pulled down, revealing bright blue underwear with thunderbolts on them. I’d thought he would stop right there, but he continued on and removed the very thing that was hiding my genital area. Everything was a blur after that, having my head facing the wall and feeling the action happening from my rear end.

I woke up almost feeling like I wanted to cry, so I lay there at 5 am while waiting for me to fall back to sleep. I then felt something hard underneath my pants, which meant that I had a wet dream as well.

This was how it was for over a decade. I get flashback dreams, I wake up crying, I get hard, I masturbate, I fall back to sleep. It never failed me. It remained the same ever since. I wasn’t sure if it was because of how I process things, but everyone that I told was quick to say how unnatural it was for me to act the way I did.

I woke up with my pants still down, unable to recall what happened last night. I got into the shower, thinking about everything I wanted to say to that man. My stomach was growling like I was hungry, but deep down inside I was a nervous wreck.

I had to awkwardly eat breakfast with my parents since my mother filled out the whole table with all sorts of fruits, a tray for the tea set and some other drinks, and bread with some sandwich toppings on another tray. All the trays that were displayed made it seem like there was way more stuff than expected. I rarely ate — only trying to take as little as possible so I could excuse myself into my room to get ready.

I sat in my room, waiting for his name to pop up on my phone. He gave me the green light, prompting me to get dressed and walk out of the house. It was noon and my parents were a bit concerned as to why I was leaving at this time. I thought of a quick lie of me walking around my childhood city as an excuse and they accepted it — surprisingly.

I ran off, walking towards a train station that would lead me to his place. He called me a couple of times to ask me if I was coming, but I was underground and had to wait until I arrived to reply to him. He picked me up at the train station, pulling me into a warm embrace which felt imitated.

“Kibum… how have you been doing? Was the journey alright?” He said in his soft voice, possibly softer than he was at the church the day before. He held my hand as we walked out of the station, walking towards what seemed to be his neighbourhood. He lived in a nice little penthouse that seemed small, but it had all the view he could have.

We entered from the entrance, before going onto the lift to the very top. He unlocked his door, opening it to showcase a very warm atmosphere that I could get at any pub or restaurant. Everywhere seemed neat but messy at the same time, while also looking expensive looking. It was a sight I didn’t want to miss, especially with the fact that every single glance was something worth noting, like the gramophone sitting at the corner of the room.

“Make yourself at home, Kibum.” He patted the couch, indicating him asking me to sit down. I eventually did, while he was searching around the room for something catching up to our conversation. “So Kibum… tell me what you have been doing ever since you left Church.”

“Well…” I started. “I moved out and so I couldn’t afford to come all the way here.” I went with the conversation, knowing that he was going to say something very cliche.

“Kibum…” He stopped what he was doing to sit next to me, with his hands on mine while they were on my lap. “Listen to me… Jesus will always love you, regardless of that.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to continue with that talk, yet it was my fault for agreeing to go to a literal pastor’s house. Sure I didn’t want to go through a whole lecture on how God is good and great for the millionth time, but a part of me just wants to see what would happen… between us.

“I always felt like I had to go every Sunday… but the moment I couldn’t… I feel fake.” I lied, even giving him the puppy eyes that I mastered since I was a kid.

“Kibum, don’t say that…” I felt his hand on my back, the adrenaline of the conversation was causing me to go on and keep the lie going. “I always knew your love for Jesus is real, even since you were a boy.”

He was starting to get close to me, having his other hand stroking my crotch area. I was horrified, but I was also excited that I was going to get with Pastor Y/N again after all these years of craving for his touch.

“Kibum…” He was checking me off through my clothes, and I could see a small spark in his eyes. He saw something that he was looking for, and that was me. My young body that he wanted to use again. “…Please… may I pray for you?”

Suddenly, my mind went blank, unsure how to feel or to respond. Was he going to use me again, or was this bait created by my imagination which was so desperate that I generated my suffering by my thoughts?

After all the thoughts that ran through my mind, I agreed, holding both of my hands while we faced each other. His eyes closed, and so did mine. This used to be my everything as a child, being able to picture God clearly with his white-washed face and his gown. Nowadays, I see nothing. It was impossible to convince myself to see otherwise.

“Father in heaven, I thank you for being brother Kibum back into the Church.“ He started praying, in which he started becoming more preachy as every sentence occurred.

I felt his every nudge, every poke, and all the attempts he made to touch me in any way or form. He even managed to place his hand on my thighs while it was spread apart, causing me to be unable to close it.

He was getting deep into his prayer, and I was feeling slightly uncomfortable, but excited at the same time. This was what I was waiting for, or at least that was what I thought I needed. I wasn’t sure how to feel. Did I accomplish anything? Did I make things worse? Oh god… did I make anything worse?

But then… he slipped his hand under my pants, and all those thoughts left my mind.

It was just pure… silence. I was horny, I needed this, and I wanted this. It was exactly what I was looking for at this very moment… someone using me for their benefit. That was my guilty pleasure.

“Wow… your penis barely has changed!” Pastor Y/N went close to me, and I gulped as loudly as I felt like a cartoon character. I could feel that lust in his eyes, doing something that he shouldn’t have.

Then… his lips touched mine. There was no noise, just the sound of smooches and hums in between. He laid me down on the couch, kissing me more like I was a drug. He wasn’t afraid to use his tongue, which made him look attractive to me.

He pulled out, looking directly at me. “I know you’re a homosexual, Kibum.” That threw me off guard, but I owned my identity, so I claimed it as it was. He told me that we could pray again later, but he wanted to feel my gorgeous boy body.

Boy body…? What does he mean by that? Why would he exclaim that my body was one of a boy? Could it be that he still sees me as the kid he used? Either way, my vision of myself was still that young me, but with more clarity and less confusion. With my big age, I would’ve learned how to say stop. Nonetheless, it has been locked away in a treasure chest, and thrown out the window.

I didn’t feel a single guilt throughout all of it. He kept stripping off my clothes, showing my bare body to him, feeling our skin against each other’s. I knew it was Pastor Y/N, but a part of me was starting to gain some sort of attraction to him.

It was like… he wasn’t a Pastor to me… he was a childhood crush.

“Mmm yes… You’ve always been such a good boy…” He caressed my cheeks, while I felt his finger rubbing the lip of my anus.

“I’ll go and get the lube… I’ll be right back.” He kisses me on the forehead, before walking away to his room. I looked down to see my clothes on the floor, including my boxers that I had worn when it happened to me. I kept it after all this time since no matter how many times I tried to wash them, it still smelt like him…

Wait… why did I decide that this was a good idea? I mean, I knew I needed to get over it eventually, but was I doing too much?

It was a line that I didn’t know existed — at least for me anyway. I didn’t see a problem having sex with Pastor Y/N. In fact, it was my dream to have sex with him as an adult now that I know what he has done to me. Unfortunately for me, the fear and guilt came back to bite me in the ass, and now I was unsure of what would be the right choice for me. I felt like a mom nagging to myself and hating it because I had to wash the dishes.

Well, I already went this far so it would be far too late for me to give it up and go home. The least I could do would be to suck his cock and call it a day.

“Kibum, do you want to come to the bedroom?” He called me, to which I immediately complied regardless of any prior thoughts. I walked over to his room, where I saw a very neat room with a comfortable-looking bed and antique-looking pieces of furniture with fake plants around them.

“Come and sit here! I won’t hurt you!” My body began to vibrate, but was unsure whether it was a bad thing or not. But either way, I crawled over to him, with my butt facing him. I could tell it aroused him since he would open my butt cheeks so he would lick me there. Or… at least he would’ve due to my butt plug was in the way.

“I see you’re prepared for me, Kibum! Should I remove that for you?” I nodded my head quickly, and he did what he needed to do. He slowly pulled out my plug, in which I felt everything from the stretching to the rubbing on my prostate. When it was out, I could feel cold air going inside. That stopped when he put his warm fingers inside of me.

It… did feel good, and the way he was very gentle with me this time made me convinced that he might be in love with me. From the way he would lick me, to the type of treatment he was giving me. I knew that it wasn’t something that I wanted to take away from myself.

It was time for him to go inside me, and I opted to go into a missionary position so I could see him the whole time. My legs had to go all the way up to my shoulders, but it was still enjoyable. The moment he went inside, my moans started. He still felt very big inside, just like how it was before. The way he grabbed my legs when he wanted to go faster was something that was unexplainable.

“Mmm… you’re so amazing, Kibum. You’re so tight… you’ve always been tight… that amazing boy hole…” I didn’t take notice of what he said, but the way he gave me praise overpowered any outright creepy comment he might’ve said during the session.

His grunts were something I’d hear in a hentai. If anyone heard him for the first time, they would’ve assumed that he was a toxic top, when he was really a nice person who looked out for his bottoms. Meanwhile, I sounded like I was meowing. My voice may go from low to high, slow to fast, and quiet to loud very quickly. I could also be overstimulated, so curling into a ball would be something I’d do. A typical bottom.

The way he thrusts inside was something I could explain in detail. I could feel it every time he went deep, so much that we grunted at the same time. But when he goes faster, that would be when we go out of sync and I get crazier.

“Ahhh yes… your moans are so cute, Kibum…” I just love it when he says his name. It would always gives me goosebumps whenever he reminds me of my presence and how much it drives him insane.

I want this feeling to last forever, and I want it to be with him. He seemed so into me, that I forget about everything that happened before that very moment. It felt like this was a hookup date and that I met him on a gay dating app. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has been on there for at least once. And even if he had sex with other boys like me, somehow he realised that I was the boy he needed.

He needed me more than anything. And I wanted him too.

“Yes…yes… I’m about to cum…” I begged him to place his manhood in my mouth, and he did just that. His white juices went all over my face while some went into my mouth.

He laid me down onto the bed, making me relax beside him. He was still cuddling me while he went soft. He kissed me on the cheek, before falling asleep. I glanced around the room like a lost child, and my sense of my mind slowly started coming back. A part of me couldn’t believe I agreed to have sex with Pastor Y/N, while at the same time, I was glad I did.

I don’t know… but I’d say that it was this strange feeling that always gets to me whenever I look back at this very moment.

—

dividers by @cafekitsune

[claudethecrabdemoness]

Ok so I think I found a way to fix Vox LOLLOLOL. 

And by fix him, I mean make him much, much worse.

🔌 📺😝🎩⚡️

So I was drabbling in my head w Claude and Vox and they got to deep talking about their previous lives and regrets and all sorts of existential meanderings, when Vox surprised me by saying “I was a Christian, ya know. A good one. Never even missed a Sunday- come late night or hangover or hellwater. *chuckle* Fat lot of good it did me, right?”

And then I was like oh. OHHHH. 

He should’ve been a televangelist. 

So now this is canon as far as I’m concerned, and can even make perfect use of the little priest getup from his song number. After all, that is essentially what he’s doing with the V’s: amassing a hell-wide cult through the power of his broadcast monopoly. And explains why Claude had never heard of him before- he’s not your average kind of celebrity. 

I picture he got his start on local access TV, in the early 40s, just right after Al would’ve had his heyday with radio. He was an East Coast boy, no doubt, and mastered the quick-talking pander of the telecasters at the time. He often ran small broadcasts for local churches- fundraisers, telethons, what have you- and the Christian community ate up his All-American boyish charm. Especially the ladies. He married one who went to his church and really believed his words had the power to change lives, urged him to start his own televised worship, and boy did he thrive. They quickly became a household name, and he basically kick-started the whole televangelist movement into high gear. Like the bastard he is. Soon he gained a country-wide following and had money pouring in from the faithful by the buckets, and of course it all went straight to his head. Hence why it’s a TV now as punishment. That’s when he began exploiting his pulpit, believing himself a prophet, staying with his wife only to maintain their image, buying houses and toys and cars all with parishioner’s money, staying awake for days on cocaine and coming back down with barbiturates, the whole nine yards. 

It eventually caught up to him when his followers tried to commit a mass murder/suicide in his name, and a lengthy court appeal didn’t really smooth over their new reputation as a dangerous cult. Which is so unfair. It wasn’t like he told them to go all Old Testament, buuut… it’s not like his message was that far off from it either. Idiots. From then on, he started overworking, overthinking, and overdoing the whole thing right into the ground. His wife left him, he lost a ton of money in legal fees, and he had to hire protection now to keep up with the death threats from angry loved ones of his devotees. All the stress and resentment drove him into religious fanaticism, and his sermons just got more and more ego-driven and manic, asking for larger tithes and claiming it would be help him work the Lord’s magic even faster. He eventually was killed by a hit put out on him by an up and coming newer cult- ironically a spinoff of his original one- proving that he was very much mortal, but his faithful followers still believed he was a messiah of some kind. 

And that’s because- in his haze of drugs and self-destruction- he believed he was one too. He was sure that what he was doing was for all the Right Reasons, even if the methods were unorthodox. But hey- even Jesus flipped tables and rebelled against the Romans, so who’s to say his path is any less holy? He was SURE that he’d still be getting a ticket to Heaven, despite some minor setbacks…

So you can imagine his rage when he very much woke up in Hell. 

All his hard work, all his devotion, all his MONEY- for what?? Damned to live with a TV instead of his beautiful face and nothing to show for his decades of faith??

What the fUCK??

It was then that he realized God was the biggest scam of all and immediately renounced his faith, spending the first few years of demonhood sinning and drinking as much as possible. He had no idea how to cope with it all, and saw no point to trying, really. What good is having a TV head when you can barely stand the thought of using it- just a constant reminder of the empire you left crumbing behind you. 

And that’s when he met Alastor. 

Now here was someone else cursed by his favorite medium and a deer form that boasted anything but the predator he saw himself as- only this man was anything but deterred by it. The Radio Demon’s broadcasts may have terrorized everyone else in Hell, but they invigorated something deep inside Vox. Something he hasn’t felt since his first televised sermon… something like worship. 

He had to seek him out. 

This then ties in perfectly with his one-sided crush/obsession with Al, their doomed stint at friendship, and the impending rejection he receives at the end. AGAIN. First God, now Alastor…? You’d think that second blow would reduce him into an even greater depression than before, but instead, it flips a switch inside him. That’s when Vox decides ENOUGH. He’s done pandering, he’s done negotiating, he’s done elevating anyone else above himself. And why should he?? If anything HE should be the one on that pedestal, HE should be the only one to get credit for all HIS deeds…

HE should be God. 

And dammit, if he can’t join the original up in Heaven, why not try to become one down in Hell?

The rest is canon as we know it, but I just really realllllly love the idea of ex-Christian Vox, and all the disillusionment religious trauma can bring. He went straight from communion to capitalism, and I like that in my hell-bound guys. I will def be using this as his canon backstory for my AU with Claude, bc I needed to bring even more conflicted suffering and RSD to this character before I can truly ship them together hahaa. 

And…. despite what his real backstory actually is…. this is the only one I subscribe to now. 😈

ALSO:

TELL ME THIS ISN’T HIM!!??!??? HELP. CREEPY HANDSOME IS THE ONLY WAY TO GO FOR THIS CURSED TV MAN I HAVE DECLARED IT SO PLS ADJUST YOUR FANART ACCORDINGLY. 

Anyway, thanks for coming to my TED talk I’m going to go rot in my hole now thinking of more hcs for this akskshagaga-

[lostinvasileios]

Hey so, I'm sorry if this is intrusive since I haven't seen you post a lot about this but could you say what your experience with Yeshua or Jesus has been like so far? I left catholicism a long time ago, but I feel strangely called to him no matter what I do. And I don't like the church, I don't like the bible, but I want to oddly accept this feeling and see what happens with him now that I am out of my old abusive home and forced religion.

-☁️

Hello, bumblebee! It's not intrusive at all, I was planning on posting about them sooner or later, actually! Thanks for sending in your ask. 🍄🤍

Firstly, congratulations on getting out of that!! I'm so glad you made it out alright and trying to heal those wounds.

Now, I want you to know - you don't need to connect with churches or bibles to worship Yeshua, to communicate with him, ect. And, I get it - I never personally liked churches, I never felt any sparking connections to the bible, and - this all played its parts in my falling out with him at first.

I'm queer, and that alone was called filthy, or impure. Seen as something to be ashamed of and try to hide or tame. My gender identity and sexuality/romantic preferences have always been spoken about with hatred, judgement, or just blatant intolerance by my family & the religious leaders I was around at the time.

I didn't want anything to do with Yeshua when I left the religion. I couldn't get myself to face him, since I felt like he intentionally ignored me. Like he truly, heartfully hated me as much as everyone said he did.

But, one night, very very early into my journey... He appeared to me. And, at first - I was... Really shaky about it. I was super... Um... Emotional. To put it lightly, haha. I had a lot of conflicting thoughts, feelings, ect.

But, despite how angry, how sad, how - everything, I felt during that time, I remember how calm he was with me. How patient and understanding. Yeshua never cursed me, he never yelled, he never spoke to me with anger or any sort of negativity. He was, and is, very adamant on telling me that my identity, everything about who I am, is beautiful to him. How much he loves me, every part of me. How I am not a sinful creature, how I am not some mistake in a code to write out or bended metal to fix, yet a beloved soul he holds very dear to him.

Even after knowing how he felt about me, I still had issues really... Letting him in. I've never had a good relationship with any father figures I've had, and I didn't have a good relationship with him either. The reason I bring up father figures here, is because I found out quite quickly through my soul self that - well - Yeshua does take on the role of a father figure for us. He's spoused to my soul, he truly does care for me. He loves me, he wants to be there for me, to protect and reassure me. And that was hard to grasp for a long while.

In my own UPG of him, I've found out a lot of him. Of his troubled past, of his regrets, his traumas. He's been through a lot. And, he put in a shitload of work to try and heal from everything he was put through as a young god to where he is now. He knows he's hurt many people, he knows people use him to hurt others, he knows he's unfairly been put on to a higher shelf to the mass public. And he wants to make up for it. He wants to be that god I saw him as before I went through the incidents that caused me to fall out in the first place.

As of late, I've been trying to ease my way into him more. I've accepted him, but it can still be rocky for me at times. I crave for his love, and I know he craves for mine, as well. He's been trying to allow me to know just how much he loves me, with poetry and deep discussions on any and everything I was/am curious about. Gifts, affections, ect. But... Unlearning the church, and relearning Yeshua is difficult. He knows this. He went through the same things in his own variants.

You also don't need to be Christian or anything to worship him. He knows I am not Christian, and still very much loves me and accepts me. He isn't a forceful guy, not for the most part. Since, yes, he's healed a lot of his old ways and trauma habits, but he, like any god or soul at all, he can have his darker sides. Just as he can have his wholesome ones.

I've come to see he's also queer. Which is nice. We talk about our husbands/wives together over a nice glass of wine sometimes - whenever we aren't sobbing in each others arms about things.

[welcome-to-ratterrock]

if these characters were humans in like another universe 😭

would they be religious and what religion? do they already have a religion?

The characters definitely have relationships with religion in the comic, so I’m going to address what happens in the canon verse since it applies to their human selves (with the exception of the Nightshades). Long post ahoy!

The majority of the rodent population/society in this story is very much a reflection of human society. Because mice and rats live beneath the human world and very much live off of it, their society is essentially an echo of it. As Baji once said, “It reflects our world, but on a smaller scale.”

So man made creations are utilized by the mice/rat population for their own purposes, with their own unique takes on them. Rodents borrow/make copies of artwork and literature and music that humans have created - there’s no Mouse Vincent Van Gogh or Mouse Charlotte Brontë, but there’s mouse made copies of “Starry Night” and “Jane Eyre”, if that helps explain it. They take what they want from human society and either copy it as closely as they can, or they refashion it to suit their purposes.

This includes religion. Rodents are aware of the concept of God, a figure named Jesus, how Christianity and Judaism and other major religions work/influence the world of humans because the human world directly affects their own. They are influenced the most by the humans they had the closest contact to. The family that lives above them is Catholic? They follow Catholic traditions. If a Jewish human family had to move because of a pogrom, the mouse family under them would have to leave too.

Now, like I said, there are some twists/adaptions made. Rodents revere food above all else, and that has influenced how they view certain religious beliefs. In regards to Christianity, mice take this particular passage very literally:

And he took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me.

So there’s this idea in Rodent Christianity (a term I never thought I would write) that Christ is akin to bread, or even that he literally is bread, nourishing and sustaining. So they’ve gotten “Christ” and “crust” mixed up a bit - they’ll say things like “Holy Crust!” or “Sweet Crust!”

NOW, having gotten all of that established…let’s see where our crew of characters fall in this scheme…

Regal is a staunch atheist. The Regal’s were raised Catholic, but he doesn’t have any inclination or interest towards religion of any sort - he has come to see it as a way to control people, shame them into behaving themselves so they’re easier for people in power to control. Honestly, I can’t see any of the remaining Regal family members being religious. They attended mass as children but it never was something they really connected with - Sorcha enjoyed the music, but she hates being lectured and that’s what sermons felt like for her. None of them are fans of the hypocrisy that the church holds, either, nor that their sexual preferences are seen as sinful…so yeah, I can’t see any of them wanting to go back to mass.

Locke has faith in science and justice, in facts and data, and that’s it - he and Regal definitely connected over both of them being atheists. His family went to church because it was the “proper and respectable thing to do”, but Little Locke would constantly question the pastor and freaked everyone in his Sunday school out when he told them the science behind crucifying.

Levi is Jewish, and he keeps kosher and takes part in major holidays. He’s very proud of being Jewish and I think he genuinely believes in a loving God, but I don’t think he attends temple all that often if at all since he’s never hidden that he’s a sex worker and the people there would definitely shun him because of his profession. Abraham is also very proud of being Jewish, and is very much an atheist.

Rilla attends church with her father because it’s expected of a wealthy, blue blood, but struggles with faith after her mother died. She believes in kindness and compassion and generosity, and doesn’t feel like those are solely Christian things.

Brig is also an atheist, she’s had way too much experience about the cruelty done in the name of religion. Her mother believed very strongly in the lore of fairies, the ways of the old country, and Brig still keeps that alive in her own way by celebrating Beltane and Samhain and Yule.

Luella was raised Christian and I think she identifies as one still, but she struggles with it very much. She’s very conscious of the hypocrisy and cruelty done in the name of religion, and constantly reflects on how there’s so much cruelty and unkindness and tragedy in the world…why would a loving God allow that? But at the same time, she prays almost daily and believes so deeply in giving grace and practicing selflessness and kindness. She has faith, but she struggles.

As for Bogdan and Casimir and their mother, they’re unique in that they have the only purely rodent born religion in that they revere the stars and the moon. They believe that when a bat dies, their soul sheds its mortal body to ascend as a star, safe in the eternal night with the maternal moon to watch over them. Charting the stars is not just pragmatic, but deeply spiritual. They have many fables and tales about the moon and the stars and bats who now look down on them from the sky…as humans, I think that would translate into considering astrology akin to spirituality. But that’s something we’re still exploring!

As more characters enter the story we’ll be touching on their relationship to their respective religion! Thank you so much for this question, it really let me deep sea dive into the lore of our world!

[mk-writes-stuff]

Cinnamon, gingerbread, and hair if that's okay!

Ooooh this one’s going to be a long post :). I’m not complaining, I love big asks. Thank you!

(From this ask game here).

Cinnamon: What animals exist in your world?

A strange answer for the Seven Stations - none! The stations don’t have animals of any sort, and all meat is lab-grown. When the stations were supporting the Old World, it didn’t make sense to try to keep animals because meat could just be shipped up if necessary, and the few pets the nobles had that went up with them have long died out in the centuries in between. Stellaris is the only character we meet who knows much about animals. Some of the elves probably had livestock, but I haven’t developed that much - and if they did bring them, they probably had to eat them on the journey.

The Pirates’ Roost has a lot of the animals you’d expect from a mostly tropical setting - rich sea life, lots of birds, and a lot of jungle life. The big difference in wildlife is the dinosaurs. Dinosaurs never went extinct on Ixalan, so they have a wide variety of feathered dinosaurs of various sizes - everywhere from raptors and small pterosaurs to massive titan dinosaurs. The Sun Empire keeps them as pets and various warbeasts and generally treats them with respect, but there are also a lot of wild dinosaurs that are… less friendly.

Gingerbread: What is the most popular holiday? How does the average person celebrate?

I honestly haven’t developed holidays for the Seven Stations, really. I’m not sure the average person gets many holidays. The Church of the Stellar Cross is of vaguely Christian origins, so they likely celebrate some of the major holidays like Christmas and Easter in a modified form, and they celebrate those with church services. Nobles also have a lot of celebrations that aren’t really holidays, like debutante parties.

Different groups in the Pirates’ Roost have different celebrations they focus on. Torrezon celebrates the day that Elenda discovered vampirism. Both the sirens and the Sun Empire celebrate the summer and winter solstice in opposite directions - the summer solstice is a celebration for the Sun Empire and a mourning day for the sirens and vice versa for the winter solstice. The siren celebrations are the primary ones I’ve worked out - the summer solstice is spent in somber clothing and prayer to the waves, and the winter solstice is celebrated with bright colours, stargazing, and gifts to people you want to keep in your life through the new year.

Hair: What kinds of discrimination are there? Are they the same as reality?

The Seven Stations have some of the same discrimination as reality. They don’t have racism and they don’t have sexism (although the elves have sexism against men and masculine people). The nobles are homophobic and transphobic, although the common people don’t really care. The nobles (and the elves) are also highly ableist, specifically against mentally disabled people. Very noticeable in the first book is the way Stellaris is judged for his autism - although the treatment of him does get better :)

And then there’s the clone thing. Clones are legally not considered people on the Seven Stations and are frequently horrifically abused - often killed for magic or organ replacements. At the start of the series, treatment of clones ranges from indentured servitude to straight-up mass murder. Many people will gladly turn in or murder escapee clones, and the Church of the Stellar Cross considers clones to be possessing only a piece of a soul. Clone rights are a major arc of the series, and attempts to help them and improve their lot in life is one of the major goals of the protagonists.

The Pirates’ Roost is a bit different. The two empires have various kinds of racism, ableism, homophobia, and transphobia going on. The pirates, on the other hand, are pretty chill for the most part, but there’s a lot of subtler species discrimination. Vampires are often stereotyped as monstrous and predatory and deeply feared. Orcs are stereotyped as brutish and violent, but the primary reason they work as mercenaries is because they have a highly specialist culture and they are primarily pushed into being mercenaries. Goblins are often stereotyped as stupid when they simply have a different linguistic structure and poor hearing. And sirens are stereotyped as seducers and tempters and are sexualized to the point where they’re often harassed in public - Malcolm deals with this multiple times, with strangers asking to touch his feathers and flirting with him when he’s clearly uncomfortable.

Thank you for the ask! I hope you don’t mind the super long answer :). Feel free to ask me any questions you have!

[transgenderer]

Gibbs never married, living all his life in his childhood home with his sister Julia and her husband Addison Van Name, who was the Yale librarian. Except for his customary summer vacations in the Adirondacks (at Keene Valley, New York) and later at the White Mountains (in Intervale, New Hampshire),[59] his sojourn in Europe in 1866–69 was almost the only time that Gibbs spent outside New Haven.[6] He joined Yale's College Church (a Congregational church) at the end of his freshman year[59][60] and remained a regular attendant for the rest of his life.[61]

According to Lynde Wheeler, who had been Gibbs's student at Yale, in his later years Gibbs

was always neatly dressed, usually wore a felt hat on the street, and never exhibited any of the physical mannerisms or eccentricities sometimes thought to be inseparable from genius ... His manner was cordial without being effusive and conveyed clearly the innate simplicity and sincerity of his nature.

 In an obituary published in the American Journal of Science, Gibbs's former student Henry A. Bumstead referred to Gibbs's personal character:

Unassuming in manner, genial and kindly in his intercourse with his fellow-men, never showing impatience or irritation, devoid of personal ambition of the baser sort or of the slightest desire to exalt himself, he went far toward realizing the ideal of the unselfish, Christian gentleman. In the minds of those who knew him, the greatness of his intellectual achievements will never overshadow the beauty and dignity of his life.

i feel like this guy may have been like. an alternate formulation of the human mind capable of stable lasting happiness. like normal people are messy and flawed and need intimacy with comes with inevitable getting hurt. but this guy was just like. one of the greatest physicists in history, and extremely well adjusted. they built this one correctly. you could tile the post-scarcity earth with this type of human and no one would ever suffer again

[therealcocoshady]

I love lucky you too. The MV was so cool 😭.

As for why I can’t stand Skylar - Girl there’s a lot of reasons. 1. I also think her vibes are kind of weird and obsessive when it comes to Marshall? Like she’s always using his music in posts, posting about him, etc and I find it a little weird how she’s always tied to him. Which brings me to reason 2. Shes so dependent on that man musically it’s sad. And I feel like he’s depended on her too when he doesn’t even have to be. Like every concert she’s there performing. Every song that needs a female vocalist, she’s singing. She’s always talking about her collars with him and it’s weird as F*CK. Like we get it. You and Marshall made music together. We get it that your on his albums. We get you go in tour with him. NEXT. 3. He keeps using her as a vocalist… I’m so tired of hearing her voice bro. Like deadass. At first I was like okay. I won’t disagree that she’s talented because she is. She can be. Her music writing skills are phenomenal. But her singing… hang it up please. She is SO mediocre and bland it’s actually insane. She is BORING. Her vocals are the same old same old, her stage presence is lame. She stand in stage in one spot singing and moving her galea’s to look at him and the crowd but goes no where. She doesn’t move, she is just boring. And I hate to say this, but he could do SO much better for his albums. There’s so many good vocalist out in Detroit and everywhere else. Why doesn’t he hire them? He used ONE new vocalist that was a black woman and that shit SLAPPED. She ATE DOWN on that song. Then never used he again. Went back to Skylar’s vocals. 🤨 3. She’s keeps saying she’s working in stuff but it’s just repetitive. Like how many times are you gonna re-record different version of Love the way you lie? 4. To wrap it all up, she’s giving work wife. It’s giving he keeps her around because he feels bad for her and her situation. It’s giving why the fuck can’t you find another vocalist it sing in your songs? She’s just boring and over hyped to me. I think she should stick to song writing but that ain’t my business 🤭.

Man’s as for the Christianity thing, I don’t think it’s so much so as a US thing or him being a born again Christian (that’s the first I’ve ever heard about him being one). Like I get where he’s coming from bc I’m kinda the same. I don’t think he’s always been super religious or anything by any means but he’s always had faith. He doesn’t go to church on a Sunday or read the Bible but he got respect for the man upstairs and believes. He’s just not overly flamboyant about it if that makes sense. I just think with the track (Use This Gospel) he tapped into his faith for the sake of the because we all know Kanye is more into that genre and is way more open about his views. He’s mentioned God/Christianity in his music before

Mmmmh. I never gave Skylar that much thought but... Yeah. Makes sense. It IS true that while she is a talented songwriter, her vocal skills are nothing to write home about (in my humble opinion). She sings prettily but it's always sort of the same and some of Em's music could be more impactful if he put someone on there with a better voice/vocal range.

Thanks for answering the Christianity thing. I think I read something about him being a born-again Christian and that is what made me wondering. But it is true that he's mentioned his beliefs before. I'm kind of the same too. But anyway, This Is Gospel is an amazing song so I'm happy he is on it !!!

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 14

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. Another quick update! I'm on a roll! Please enjoy reading :)

"Blessed be God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ in heaven."

Under the shade of an old oak tree on the outskirts of the Greene farm, I stand at Shane's side as Herschel fills an empty grave with prayers. I've never been to a stranger's funeral before. I don't belong here — none of our group does — but according to Rick, this is how we show respect to the mourning family, and respect is how we get to stay here on the farm longer than just a week. I'm not too sure what's so respectful about watching in silence while Patricia lowers her dead husband's belongings into the ground, but this is what we have to do.

"Praise be to Him for the gift of our brother, Otis — For the span of his years; for his abundance of character."

I glance up at Rick, who's standing on the other side of the semi-circle we've formed. He stares at Shane. I didn't know so much about Otis' character, but he must've had a whole bunch of it, 'cause Patricia cries twice as loudly now, as Maggie helps her out the grave. All I know is he shot my Dad. In another life, this would've been Rick's fate for killing my Uncle. In another-another life, my Uncle isn't dead at all.

"Otis, who gave his life for the chance to save another."

That's how the story goes. Shane and Otis, cornered but resilient, down to ten rounds — one killed in a tragic act of sacrifice.

"We thank you, God, for the rest you now grant him. He died as he lived — In grace. May the arms of eternity embrace him."

I wonder if Otis is going to Hell or heaven. I wonder if God's holdin' him in some sort of waiting room right now, watching on as my Dad fights for his life; waiting to see if Otis is a murderer. In my eyes, he already is. If God's as smart as they say he is, he'll send Otis to Hell.

Herschel gently closes the Bible.

Me and my Dad went to church, a long time ago. They used to give out free food and diapers every Sunday before mass to encourage people who couldn't afford those types of things to come in and pray, but we never did any of the praying. We just took the cheap groceries, feeling only partially ashamed as upper middle-class Christians sung hymns in the background. The worst was when they said they'd pray for us.

God be with you, the man would tell my Dad.

Thanks, Dad would answer, head lowered, and then pull me back out to the parking lot.

When I asked him if God was real, all he said was that if he is, then he must be deaf. I could never imagine him praying.

"Shane," Herschel says.

The man besides me startles slightly.

"Will you speak for Otis?"

Speak for a dead man?

He stiffens as everybody turns their gazes on him.

"I... I'm not good at this." He says quietly, clearing his throat; shaking his head. I think if he could run away, he would. "I'm sorry."

"You were the last one with him." Patricia insists. "You shared his final moments."

He stares at her, mouth open but no words coming out. It reminds me of that far-away look he had last night when he returned alone. This is not the Shane I know. Who am I kidding, my Dad once said to Shane, You always got somethin' you wanna say. Not right now, he don't.

"Please." Patricia says, stepping forward.

The uncomfortable silence persists.

"I need to hear." She begs. "I need to know his death had meaning."

Rick's still staring at him, more intensely than the rest. You better say something, the look says, You better not mess this up.

Shane licks his lips, and glancing down at me is the thing that finally pushes him to speak.

"Okay." He concedes, nodding to himself. A weak breeze sails through the leaves above us as he speaks, and there's something about the way his eyes shift from person to person and the way his clasped hands twitch that give me the sense he's making it up as he goes. "We were about to reach the main building," He tells us. "We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. The dead; closin' in. It was... Things weren't looking good. 'The supplies are in there.' You see, that's what he said. To me. 'You have to get them. You have to save that poor girl's Dad.' He gave me his backpack. He gave me his rifle. 'Run. I'll cover you,' He said. I had no choice. I ran. When I looked back..."

I did it, is all I can remember him saying last night, I did it, I did it.

Did what?

"He died thinking of Daryl." He sticks his chin up. "He died giving him a chance."

He died for nothing, is what he really means to say.

Maggie looks down at her boots, holding Patricia's shaking hand.

"I might not've been able to... find the supplies," He gulps, taking a deep breath, "But I made it out alive. And I owe that all to Otis."

A sob breaks out amongst us.

"If any death ever had meaning, it was his."

"Amen."

"Amen."

"Amen," We all say.

I don't remember much about the people at our church, but I do remember them saying, to lie is to rot oneself from the inside out with sin.

When I glance up at Shane, I find him already looking right back at me.

The funeral ends.

On our way back up the hill, we hear car engines approaching.

"I'm guessing this is the right Green farm, then?" Dale says through his open window, bringing the RV to a crawl alongside us. Behind him, the remainder of our group rounds him and continues driving up the road. Maggie opens the gate for them. "Beautiful out this way, huh?"

"Hey, Dale." I smile lightly. "Ya made it."

"Hop in. I'll give you a ride up."

He brakes long enough to let me climb in, and as I sit next to him in the passenger seat, he starts it back up again.

"What are you all doing so far from the house?"

I don't bother buckling my seatbelt. It's only a short drive.

"We had a funeral." I tell him, "For this man named Otis. He died last night."

"What happened?" He frowns. "Is your Dad alright?"

"Yeah, he— He's inside right now. Glenn's giving him blood. He ain't really supposed to be doin' it, though. He's gonna get sick, but he says he don't care. There's nobody else who can do it. Actually, what type of blood do you have?" When he regretfully says he doesn't know, I continue. "Well, Shane, and that man, Otis, they were meant to come back with some more last night, but somethin' went wrong. Only Shane made it back."

Maggie waves us through and closes the gate behind us.

"I heard Rick wants to go back." I say. "To the college. Today. He thinks he'll find what my Dad needs."

Dale nods. "That woman said he got shot."

"Yeah. In the stomach." I exhale thinly, fiddling with my fingernails. "It's... S'real bad."

"It wasn't Shane?"

"Huh?"

"It wasn't Shane who shot him?"

I think it's telling that that's Dale's first assumption. Hell, I think it was everyone's, but now I don't know what to think.

"Apparently not." I shake my head. "Apparently it was Otis. A huntin' accident, Rick says."

"Hunting accident?"

"He wasn't there when it happened. He an' Glenn just came across the farm while lookin' and knocked on the door. Shane's said nothin'."

Dale glances at me. "That's unlike him."

I don't know what else to say to that besides, yeah, 'cause I got no idea how Shane's mind works. I know he's smart. I know he's good with words. He's everything Rick is, but amplified, and he's good at makin' people not realize it — 'cause he's also good at hiding things.

Dale brings the RV to a stop under a tall tree near the house.

"Just be careful, Harley." He looks me in the eye when he says this. "Be careful with Shane. You're a smart girl. I think you can figure out why."

No. No, I'm done figuring things out.

Shane is my friend, and Shane cares for me, and I need him right now. That's all that matters.

If that's not a smart thing to say, then I guess I must be dumb, but at least I'm not hurt. I never wanna be hurt again.

"Whatever," I mumble, rising from my seat.

I know I'll feel bad about it later, but I slam the door when I leave.

"Are you sure about this?"

As soon as we make it back to the house, Rick tells everyone he's going back to the college. Andrea offers to go with him to watch his back, and Herschel reluctantly writes up another list of medical supplies and pills for them to look for. He hands it to Rick, who quickly reads it over.

"I'm sure." He replies, folding the list into his pocket. "I couldn't be surer. It's a shot in the dark, but we gotta do it."

"The surgical labs?" Andrea asks. "That's where we'll find what we need?"

"Yes," Herschel sighs, looking unconfident. "If not there, then the storage rooms. It sounds like it's all overrun, though, Rick."

He shakes his head. "We've dealt with worse."

Carol leaves the room, a hand over her mouth. She wants Rick to keep searching for Sophia, but this is taking priority right now.

"Didn't Shane say there was nothin' left?" T-Dog butts in, confused. "I mean, he came back with nothin'."

"No." Rick says. "We don't know why that happened. If I had to guess, I'd say he had to retreat after Otis... After Otis passed."

"Man, he couldn't just double back?"

He scoffs, picking up the bags. "I don't know. I don't know what happened. All we can do is try again."

"Remember, I can only use O negative blood." Herschel raises his brows. "Nothing else."

"O negative. Got it."

"Be careful."

"We always are."

I watch the bullet roll around.

Herschel put it in a little plastic container after the surgery last night. So, this is what almost killed him, then. When I was littler, I used to think my Dad was invincible. I thought nothing could ever bring my big, strong Dad down, but it turns out it can, and it don't even gotta be bigger than my pinkie finger to do it, either. This tiny little bud of golden metal put my Dad on his death bed.

I'm watching the sun bounce off its curves when I hear footsteps approaching in the grass.

When I look up, I see Shane, alone, pointing to the picnic bench I'm sitting at.

"This seat taken by any chance?"

Be careful with Shane, Dale told me.

"No," I tell him, setting the bullet down. "You can sit 'ere."

He takes a seat beside me and asks, "What're you doin' fiddling with that thing?"

"I don't know." I smile, feeling a little silly. "I's just lookin' at it."

"Well, how 'bout this? I got somethin' better for you to do."

He lifts up the small bag he brought with him onto the table.

"What that?"

"You didn't think I forgot about our deal, right?" He grins, scattering the contents in front of us. A sketch pad with a unicorn on the cover falls out first, and then a bunch of rainbow markers, pencils, and even some craft glue and sparkly sequins. "Borrowed it all from that girl, Beth."

I laugh, probably for the first time in days. "Woah, Shane!"

"Better than that scummy old bullet, huh?" He nudges me, opening the book to a blank page. "Not sure I'm any good, but I'll try my best."

"What do you wanna draw?"

"Anything you want."

"Let's..." My first thought is a card for my Dad, but that's stupid. Shane don't wanna make that. "Um..."

"Can't make up yer mind?"

"No, it's just— I wanna make somethin' for my Dad."

Surprisingly, he doesn't react the way I expected.

"'Course ya do, sweetheart. Come on, then. I'll help you."

"Really?"

"Anything you want. That's what I said, right?"

"Okay, then." I giggle, copying him as he grabs a marker and uncaps it. "His favorite color's black, but that's ugly. Let's do flowers."

"Yes, ma'am."

"A field of flowers." I enthuse. "And a walker in the middle, but dead, 'cause Dad killed it."

"He's real good at that, huh?"

"Yep."

"Alright, then. You're gonna have to walk me through it, though, 'cause I don't know what I'm doin' here."

Laughing, I get started in pointing out all the places I think flowers would look best on the page, picking out which colors to use, like green for the grass and yellow for the sun. Shane goes along with all of it, just happy to be spending time with me. I really don't get what Dale's talkin' about. I even teach him how to draw a flower. My Dad's never colored with me, before. We never did things like that. He'd rather take me on a hike, or skip stones with me at the local playground pond. When I drew him pictures, he'd put 'em on the fridge and tell me they're nice, but that's about it.

I think it's awful nice of Shane to be making this card for my Dad. I guess he's decided to put their differences aside for a minute.

"Thanks for not tellin' me no." I say, filling in a petal. "I thought you were gonna."

"'No' to makin' your Dad a card?"

"Yeah."

"Why's that?"

Shane always does this. He asks questions he already knows the answer to, 'cause he wants to see what you say.

"I'on know," I shrug, shy; a little embarrassed. "I don't think you like him very much."

"No?"

"No. You punched him."

He hums.

I continue. "And you think he's mean."

"Yeah? Why's he mean?"

"He, like, yells sometimes." I mutter, focusing on coloring. "He gets angry."

He just hums again.

"And you don't like him 'cause he hits me, and you think he shouldn't do that. You think he's a bad Dad."

He corrects me. "I don't think he knows how to be a Dad at all, Harley."

"What about you? D'you know?"

There ain't nobody that teaches you this shit, Harley, my Dad once told me, You think you came outta the womb with a manual attached?

"Well, I've never had a kid, before, Harley." He tells me. "That was always Rick's thing. We used to go to school together, you know that? Kindergarten, all the way up to police academy. When Carl was born, I used to think about havin' my own, but it just never happened."

"Why not?"

"Kids are a lot of responsibility. I wasn't ready for that."

"What about now?"

"Am I ready for a kid?"

"Yeah."

He glances at me, then back to the paper, but doesn't answer.

I look up at him. "What is it?"

He nods at the packet of sequins.

"You wanna have a go stickin' them on?"

I pause. Yeah, I guess I can have a go.

"Dad don't like glitter, though."

"It's a gift from his daughter." Shane scoffs. "He can deal with it."

"You like glitter?"

"Can't say I'm a huge fan, but if you gave me a glittered-up card, it'd be my favorite thing I owned. I can promise you that."

That makes me smile. "I can make you one, if you want."

"Nah, that's okay, sweetheart. This is all 'bout your Dad, right now."

I smear a whole lotta glue on the corners of the page, sprinkling the little plastic pieces onto it after.

"Rick's gone back to the college." I muse. "And Andrea. They're gonna find blood and medicine for my Dad."

Shane shifts uncomfortably on the bench. That's what he was supposed to do. He failed. Now, other people have to make up for what he did, and if they come back with even one thing from the list, that's gonna look real bad for him. Not only did he get someone killed, but he did it for nothin'.

"Rick's tough. Andrea, she's a good enough shot." He clears his throat. "They'll make it back in one piece."

"I just hope they don't get caught in that herd like you and Otis."

Apparently, they got swarmed. Easy to believe, given the hundreds of walkers been followin' us down this way.

"They won't be. They're smart."

I joke, "You sayin' you were dumb?"

"Hey," He smirks. "Watch yourself."

"I'm just sayin'. How come you let yourself get surrounded?"

"Happens fast, Harley. You know that."

Sure happened fast on the highway.

"Must'a been awful." I frown. "All them walkers... Otis."

"Had to happen." Shane shrugs.

"I know. But he still died, Shane. Don't matter what for."

"You don't think it matters to his family?"

"Well, yeah, but not to us. Dead is dead, and dead's awful. You don't gotta pretend."

He shakes his head, like I just don't get it.

"No. No, if I could go back in time, Harley, I wouldn't change a thing."

I glance at him, then. His jaw is set tight as he scribbles a red blotch onto the page, staring into its chaotic epicentre. If he said that to any of the Greenes, oh, they would'a slapped him. You're supposed to be sad when someone dies. Shane looked a little down at the funeral, but now he just looks angry. I wanna warn him he's gonna tear a hole in the page if he presses down any harder, but the words get stuck in my throat.

"I don't think you should tell anyone else that." I murmur, awkward. "Especially not Patricia."

He don't stop 'till the pencil nib snaps.

"Damn it." He mumbles, tossing it.

I did it, was all he kept sayin', I did it.

"What'd you mean, last night, anyway?"

"Huh? What did what mean?"

"I did it." I quote. "You just kept chantin' it, over and over. What's it mean? What'd you do?"

He turns his glare onto me.

"You sure I said that?"

I think back to that moment. Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure.

I nod.

"I don't remember." He disagrees. "I was all outta sorts that night. Still am, to be honest."

"But you said it. I heard you."

"Well, I'd just escaped Hell on Earth, Harley. I barely made it out alive. I drove back here like a crazy man; just watched a man get eaten alive. 'Course I'm gonna be shocked I made it; shocked I did it. That's all I meant. Ain't nothin' to stress over."

I sigh. "Are you sure?"

"I ever lied to you?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, there you go."

It's only now I notice Dale on the roof of the RV. He's supposed to be on watch, but the only thing he's watchin' is us. I choose to ignore him in favor of finishing the get well soon card, hating the stiff silence that follows.

My eyes eventually wonder over to the container, and the stubby bullet inside.

I begin to frown.

Wait a minute.

Hunting accident, was what Rick told everyone.

"Shane, what type of bullet is that?" I ask, even though I already know.

Beside me, he stops coloring so abruptly that it's like I just electrocuted him.

Now I'm really lookin' at it, I can't believe it took me this long to notice.

"Harley," He says when he sees what I'm staring at. "Harley, I can explain."

I don't wanna hear it.

I know what type of bullet that is.

"Harley, wait."

It didn't come from no damn hunting rifle.

That's a pistol bullet.

I slam the door shut.

"Woah, hey. What's going on?" Glenn asks, slumped in a chair beside Dad's bed. "What's wrong?"

"Get out." I whimper, shaking my head. I go straight for the window; yank the curtains shut so hard they screech. "Get out, Glenn."

"Why? What's—?"

"Just fucking get out!"

He jumps up at that, and I only see a glimpse of him scurrying out the door before I dive onto the bed, crying and hiccupping and groaning angrily as I lift the covers. I curl up underneath them, into my Dad's side. It wasn't a rifle bullet. It was a pistol bullet. It wasn't Otis. It was Shane. My friend, have-I-ever-lied-to-you Shane. He shot my Dad and then he lied to my face about it, all while making a card that wouldn't even exist if it weren't for him in the first place. I hugged him. He hugged me back. I cried on him. I don't want my Daddy to die, I wailed, but it was him that did it.

The door opens just minutes later. I hear his combat boots thumping as he runs around the side of the bed.

"Get away from me." I try hitting him through the blankets, but he just pulls them off and grabs me. "Fuck off! I knew it was you!"

"Harley." He shakes his head. "Harley, ssh, ssh, ssh."

"You lied to me—"

"No, no, no, ssh, ssh, ssh."

"Don't tell me to shush!" I snarl, batting at him. "You— You— You shot my—!"

"No." He shakes me. "No, I didn't. Harley, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!"

"No." He growls, glancing at the door, then back to me. "Listen to me very carefully, Harley Dixon. I did not shoot your Dad."

"No? Then who's damn bullet was that?!"

"Keep your voice down."

"Who's was it?"

"Jim's, Harley. Jim's." His eyes are wide; some type of crazy in 'em as he really drills this into me, almost whispering, but also shouting at the same time. "Remember that day you came back, told everyone what happened? You gave me exact directions on how to get to that guy's camp, remember? Follow the creek, left at the big rock, go through the trees 'till you hit an old fence post. See? You told me that. I remembered. Your Dad wanted to go kill him. First time I ever saw eye to eye with that man, and I gave him the location, and we left together, Harley. Together."

I keep shaking my head, but Shane's lip curls.

"Yes. Yes. Listen to me. We left together and we found his camp. Green tent, right? Music playing?"

H-H-How's he know that?

"Wh—?"

"He wasn't there, but his tracks were. Your Dad followed 'em. We found him in a house, damn near starved to death. He was beggin' us to spare him some of ours 'till he clocked our faces. He was mad. Real mad. Hell, I would be, too, if I got tied up and left for dead. He did it. Jim shot your Dad."

"You're lying." I pull a face of disgust. "You're lying, I know it."

"Yeah? Yeah, how you know?"

"'Cause Dale says I gotta be careful around you. And Rick pretty much don't even believe you, neither! He's basically your brother!"

"To Hell with Dale." He shrugs, shaking his head and grinning, like this is no big deal. "And Rick — Rick's an idiot. You know that."

"When we heard the shot, he said it was you! He said that, in front of everyone!"

"Well, he was wrong. It was Jim."

"Then why'd you go and tell everyone it was Otis, huh?"

"Well, I— It's—"

"Just get outta my face, Shane." I shudder, pulling the covers back over my head, hiding away. "I don't wanna be your friend, anymore. Get out."

I don't care if it was Jim, or Shane, or the damn Easter bunny who shot him, at this point — I just wanna be alone. I don't know what to believe. Like I said, Shane's smart, so he don't push his luck. He leaves almost right away, closing me away in my own den of grief with a soft click of the door. I hear him talking to everyone out there, probably explaining everything away like he can so easily do. I'm emotional, he'll say, Just leave it.

When I pop my head back up, I spot the card sitting on the side table.

Get well soon, it says.

In a fit of rage, I snatch it up and I rip it to pieces.

It falls to the floor like confetti.

Rick and Andrea come back while I'm eating dinner on the porch.

It's soup that Maggie made for me — Potato and leek. Someone must've told her my favorite kind — 'cause it turns out I was right. Shane did tell everyone I was upset. Apparently, the funeral was just too much for me, on top of everything else. I'm too sad to be angry about that, 'cause it just proves that he really is a liar, after all. I set the bowl down as they pull up to the house, and Maggie and her Dad come out the front door as soon as they hear the car engine, cautiously excited for the news we're about to get. Maggie helps me out of the chair, rubbing my shoulders.

The car door shuts. We not only see Rick and Andrea, alive and well, but also two big, full bags on their shoulders.

"We got everything." He calls out to us, smiling. "Every last thing."

My jaw drops.

"Praise God." Herschel mutters.

Maggie grins down at me. "You hear that, Harley?"

"Y—" I smile wide. "Yeah."

She leaves my side to help Andrea bring the bags up the stairs.

"The penicillin?" Herschel shakes his head. "The gauze, the syringes, the disinfectant?"

"All of it." Says Rick. "Even threw in some reception desk candy, too, just 'cause we could."

"That's incredible. How?"

"Place was deserted." Andrea tells us. "We only had to take out five or six before we were the only ones around. Surgical labs, just like you said."

"Praise God," He says again. "I'll start re-dressing the wound right now."

"Here you go."

Rick passes him the bag, and everyone else goes back inside as he leans against the railing. Behind him, the sun cinematically sinks in the sky.

I sit back down.

I can't believe they did it.

"Thank you, Rick."

He looks a little sad when I say this, but happy, at the same time.

"You're welcome, Harley. You're very welcome."

For the first time ever, I'm alone with Rick and all I feel is peace.

Author's Note.

Daryl still hasn't woken up. I'm sorryyyyy 🙏He will, very soon. I promise! I'll try to make it everything you're hoping for and more :) Things are gonna be different between Harley and Daryl from now on.

(AKA not depressing.)

Shane's still manipulative as ever. Boo to him.

I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sending lots of love! :)

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Buzzfeed

Published: Feb 12, 2023

We recently asked Black members of the BuzzFeed Community to tell us the reason they left Christianity. Here are their insightful replies:

Warning: This post contains mentions of sexual abuse. 

1. "First, I never wanted to go to church, it was something my mom made us do. Second, homophobia. The last time I went to a church it was a lovely and inspirational sermon until the pastor started disparaging gays for absolutely no reason. Even at my grandfather's funeral, the pastor there managed to blame gays for the state of the world. Just random unnecessary hate."

—justchillman

2. "When I was younger, the pastor at the family church was allegedly involved in a scandal with a child and no one would do anything because he was a 'man of God.' I was instantly turned off of organized religion after finding out. That was the catalyst and the more I grew up and did some soul-searching, the more I realized I could not believe in a God that would protect a monster over a child (amongst other things as well)."

—sdhendrix182

3. "I stopped believing because my ancestors were forced to convert to what their masters believed. Plus, we pray so much and are some of the hardest believers, yet our lot in life remains the same generation after generation. I didn't understand why we were suffering so much even though we went to church and prayed so much. So, I stopped believing, stop praying and start doing and became very successful."

—Anonymous

4. "The amount of gossiping that went on in my church was astounding to me, even as a child. I always felt I had to be perfect or else I would give everyone else even more to talk crap about. The irony of the 'judge not lest ye be judged' Christians being the judgiest people I ever met was lost on them, but it made me really evaluate if I actually believed or if it was just putting on a show so I could fit in. I found out it was the latter."

—afinallullaby

5. "I was raised Catholic but as I got older, I questioned the church and its teachings more and more. A lot of it started to not make sense. When I discovered that I was nonbinary and pansexual, the church responded by forcing conversion therapy on me rather than accepting me. A God that supposedly loves everyone is not going to force that sort of hell on anyone."

—Anonymous

6. "I am a 60-year-old heterosexual African male and was increasingly bothered by the comments and jokes about gay people from the pulpit. I was a devoted and tithing member of a non-denomination mega church. My childhood years were spent every Sunday in a southern Baptist church. But I began to feel more and more uncomfortable with rhetoric that was justifying why gay lifestyles were 'unacceptable.' In short, I asked myself is this what Jesus would say or do with anyone or any group? My answer was no. This caused me to have enough doubt to question a number of teachings and stories in the bible that I was now able to look at with open eyes."

"I began to research the origins of religion and came to understand it is all about a belief, not facts. I then asked a basic question is there any area in my life where I operate on belief and not fact? With that in mind, I had to get honest and admit, I have no concrete data or facts that clearly show me there is a God. The idea of attributing what we don't understand to a God is no longer acceptable to me."

—Anonymous

7. "I grew up in church with pastors on both sides of my family. It's overwhelming as a child to be told all the things you can't do because it's a sin and you'll go to hell. Don't get me started on the teachings about relationships and sex. I wasn't allowed to date until I was 17 and once I turned 17, I was suddenly supposed to be okay with openly dating without feeling conviction. Religion played a huge part in me not dating or having significant relationships until my mid-20s and even then it still felt wrong."

"Additionally, end-time prophesy teachings (the rapture) were genuinely traumatizing. I was under constant fear that the rapture would happen and I would be left behind for some unknown sin I committed. I now have a child of my own and I REFUSE to put any sort of religious teachings in her head and I've told my parents that I will decide what's appropriate for her until she's old enough to make her own decision about religion."

—Anonymous

8. "At a very young age, I was forced to attend church. It felt like a cult. I was cognizant of the so-called church body I convened with. All I did was look and listen. Attending church continued until I was in my early teenage years. After all that I have experienced and been through I made a conscious decision that I did NOT want to be in the same place with any of those people which I will never do."

—Anonymous

9. "I didn’t grow up in church or a religious household, I was just told God exists, sin exists, and went to a few summer bible schools. As an adult, I wanted to grow my faith. The more I started reading, researching, and contemplating, I called bullcrap. It took about three years of combing through Christianity, Black Hebrew Israelites, and belief in God with no attached religious text before I settled on atheism. Honestly, I never felt more at peace or free."

—Anonymous

10. "As I got older, a lot of things in the bible just didn't add up (no mention of dinosaurs, no one could give an exact timeline of the events in the bible, the fact that the whole origins of the bible itself are a matter of debate). Not to mention that Christianity was used to keep slaves in check. I definitely have been persecuted for my stance, but I will never go back to any religion."

—Anonymous

11. "I did research on the history of the church and became very knowledgeable on all its past. Once I understood the roots of the faith, it became impossible for me to logically subscribe to it."

—Anonymous

12. "I grew up in a Baptist church in a religious extended family. My belief in some higher power diminished because of multiple reasons. Multiple friends of mine died in the same year and I just can't fathom how a higher power allows so much grief and hurt (at a personal level as well as across all of society). Mass shootings, violence, homelessness, assault, and so many heinous acts get explained away by free will, but why let people suffer if an all-powerful being could make it better? Modern Christianity is so far from the teaching of the bible. Looking at the mega-churches and the pastor and their lavish lifestyles, they're businesses."

—Anonymous

13. "I was raised in the church and the older I get, the more it seems to me how religion is used just to control the less fortunate."

—Anonymous

14. "I would say that actually reading the bible for myself without someone else's interpretation led me out of Christianity. Once I read it fully, I saw how humans created a God in their image depending on their circumstances and state of mind. While Christians will believe their God is going to save us from ourselves, the work of being better stewards of the Earth and each other falls on us. We must evolve into better humans."

—Anonymous

15. And "I was baptized at 12 and literally a year later I started to question my faith. So I read the bible in full. So many questions that many refuse to logically answer besides the usual 'Have faith.' I have not found anyone that can explain to me why God needed to kill all the animals except for the only two of own their kind on Noah’s ark when it was the humans who sinned. So many inconsistencies and not to mention man has touched the bible. What better way to control people than saying promises of heaven or being condemned to hell? I consider myself an agnostic atheist."

—Anonymous

Submissions have been edited for length and/or clarity. 

==

Black Americans have consistently tended to be more religious and slower to leave their religion per capita than white people and other ethnic groups, and more likely to regard religious faith as being personally important.

[ Source: https://www.pewresearch.org/religion/religious-landscape-study/racial-and-ethnic-composition/ ]

But perhaps that trend might change.