#and like how its used as a harmful manipulation tool

[fishfacedterror]

is exposing yourself to unfiltered vitrol really a way you try to make yourself stronger, or is it a way to virtuously self harm?

[boypussydilf]

the warriors bond between a dude with religious trauma and media that depicts and examines religion and religious viewpoints

[taffycandyqt]

hey so how badly do you think the rottmnt boys would be easily persuaded into things by their s/o? Who has self control and who throws caution to the wind for their s/o? Like their s/o is not manipulating or anything. Just like “No! I’m not joining”. “*genuine sad understanding doe eyes* If you’re sure, I wanted you to be the one to come with me though since I love you so much and I’d feel better with you there, but if you’re uncomfortable, it’s ok” if their boyfriend changes their mind, s/o is confused at the sudden change but look ecstatic? Or like they make their boyfriend angry and s/o is like “I did that? I’m sorry. I didn’t realise *genuine sad doe eyes. Makes it very hard to stay mad at*”?

Honestly, the rise boys are all so hungry for affection in their own ways. I feel like they are all pretty weak to their sweet little s/o. Also the one shots aren't exactly the best example of the headcannons but I was STRUGGLING so this is the best I got.

Weak in the Knees

Rise turtles (separately) x reader

How easily can you persuade them using your irresistible charm??

Warnings: Mentions of shooting as a hyperbole to emphasize a point. Not explicit. No deaths. Only in Donnies. Angst? ends happy so its fine

Established relationship

Fluff, crack

Donnie:

We all know Donnie is a sucker for praise.

You ask him to do something stupid or dangerous with you it will be a no.

You want him to step away from his work for a break? absolutely not.

You want him to accompany you to Witch town. ARE YOU CRAZY?

Buuuuuut. If you just so happen to have thrown out a couple compliments his way beforehand.

It will almost immediately be a yes or a "Sigh! I suppose!"

Let's be honest here too, there is a lot to compliment Donnie on.

You praise him for his work, a gift he gave you, helping you, or for literally anything he is already wrapped around your finger.

But if you praise him and then add a little kiss on the cheek or hand. Maybe a small hug?

He would literally let you shoot him if that's what you wanted.

Bro is so in love with you it's not even funny.

Not to say he doesn't draw the line somewhere. No bees. No spiders. And NO BEACH BALLS.

Oh and nothing that could phically harm you in any way.

He ain't about to let you get hurt on his watch.

It doesn't matter how many times you call him the most handsomest genius boy and kiss his nose, you are not diving off the empire state building for him to catch you mid air.

"Donnnnnnnniiieeeeeee!" you slumped towards him as you drew out his name. After you got to him you rested your head on his battle shell. Your hands were positioned on either side of your head laying flat on his shell as well.

"Yes my dear?" He chirped. He wasn't very good at initiating physical touch. Don't get me wrong, he tried, he just let his Donnie overthink get the best of him more often then not. So when you initiated, it was very welcome.

"I looooove youuu." You answered him, "your the sweetest boy I've ever met, did you know that?"

This got Donnie to set his tools down real quick. You always liked to compliment him at random times. At first he thought there was a reason behind it. You wanted something, you wanted to get away with something, you wanted him to forgive you, ect. But no matter how many times he conducted the experiment. No matter the duration of time it took. The results were always purely random. You did it simply because you wanted to tell him how much he meant to you.

And honestly, it was his favorite thing in the world. The only problem was that it would always catch him off guard. There was no consistency to your charming onslaught so it was always left as a surprise till the very last minute. His face burned red as he proceeded to just stare at his work, trying to look like he's trying to figure something out.

"I'm not sure. You say I'm a lot of things," he tried to keep his voice even as he spoke to you.

"Well it's true! Your the sweetest, smartest, and most perfect boyfriend ever and your my absolute favorite."

At this point Donnie was trying to hard not to happy stim. Not because he's not comfortable stimming around you, infact he does it all the time. The thing is, even after all this time he still wanted come off as a cool, emotionally unavailable bad boy. What he conveniently doesn't remember is that he's already willing done things that counter that image. You don't need to tell him that though.

"Thank you dear. You're quite lovely yourself," he told you. He folded his arms and sat stiffly trying to keep his stimming under control, eventually opting for some speedy finger tapping.

"Awwwwwww, thank you my love!!" you said as you finally lifted your head off his back to lean over and kiss his cheek.

This caused him to jerk in his chair and mess with the weight distribution resulting in him tipping and falling right on the floor. Instinctively he reached for the table in an attempt to break his fall. Unfortunately, he ended up grabbing his current project instead. As Donnie fell a component of his invention was ripped from it's position and landed on the floor beside him.

"Oh mi gosh! Are you okay?!" you rushed to Donnie's aid and helped him off the floor.

"I'm alright, thank you," he smiled at you softly and went to pick up his chair.

"I was just caught off guard is all," he told you, but as he bends down to grab the chair he noticed the crucial piece of his latest invention laying off to the side of it.

"GASP! Nonononono!" he picked up the piece and scrambled to his work desk to inspect the damage.

"Nooo!!" He wined in frustration. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index as he tried to calm himself down.

"Donnie? What's wrong?" You asked as you inched your way to his side.

"THIS!" he exclaimed shoving the broken piece in your direction before dropping his arm and turning away from his project to pace around the room.

"I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR WEEKS AND NOW I HAVE TO BACKTRACK AND REDO DAYS OF WORK! ALL BECAUSE YOU-" he stopped talking immediately when he say your face. He had originally turned to look back at you in order to emphasize his frustration. Seeing the look on your face though, made him instantly regret letting his frustration get the better of him.

"I- I'm sorry. I- didn't mean for that... I just wanted to... um..." you were on the verge of tears and couldn't think of anything to say that would fix the issue. So you just clasped your hands together and looked to the floor.

"I'm sorry," is what you eventually settled on.

"No! no, I'm sorry," Donnie told you as he approached and grabbed your shoulder while placing the other in his chest. He leaned his head down in an attempt to catch your eye as you kept your eyes locked on the ground.

"I shouldn't have yelled like that, and besides it wasn't your fault anyways. I was the one being careless in the first place." He eventually placed his and on your other shoulder and leaned down more, practically begging for you to look at him. When you did, your eyes were big and glossy with tears that streaked on your cheeks.

"I shouldn't have distracted you," your responded and you looked back to the floor.

"No, hey, your not a distraction," he told you in a gentle voice. He stood up straight and pulled you into a firm hug, burying his snout in your hair.

"Your the best thing that happened to me. Your never a distraction," he was really hoping this got through to you.

"Really?" You sniffed.

"Really really. Two reallys," he told you. With that you adjusted to wrap your arms around him and then lay you chin in his plastron.

"Do you think ice cream would make you feel better?" you asked.

"Me feel better?" he questioned. You were the hurt one, you were the one crying. Why were you concerned about his feelings?

"Even if you think it's not my fault, no doubt you're still upset with the amount of work you have to redo," you explained, "and ice cream always makes me feel better. So would ice cream make you feel better?"

He gave you a small laugh and traded the hug to hold your hand.

"Firstly, it's not your fault," he spoke matter-a-factly while waving his other hand around dramatically, "And secondly, ice cream sounds delightful."

So with that you both made your way to the kitchen. Donnie ended up not eating any ice cream at all and instead opted for flavorless juice. He was happy enough watching you eat your ice cream with a big smile plastered on your face.

Did he have a lot of work to redo? Yes. But as long as your there it might not feel as long. He might have to make a 'no flattery while one is working in the lab' rule though. For safety.

Leo:

Remember how Donnie had a line? Yeah, no Leo doesn't have that.

Due to this, and his already mischievous nature, you can already get him to do pretty much anything just by asking.

However he does have a responsible mood. If he's in that mood nothing will work.

you know what I mean. Like how he acts in the movie while their driving in the turtle tank?

like that, just without the internal and external issues clouding his judgment.

It's s not a bad mood, it's just not good for getting what you want.

Lucky for you he's not usually in that mood, and if he is it's usually not so bad that you can't bring I'm out of it.

That being said Leo, like the rest of his brothers, needs praise so badly that it's kinda sad.

Any praise will work but if you want him to do something absolutely idiotic to the point that even he thinks so? Your gonna need to make him feel ✨special✨

Your gonna need to pull out the my man, my champion, special man, and perfect baby.

Names like that, that make him feel like a million bucks.

If he's showing off to you, one compliment will butter that sucker up like you wouldn't believe.

He would literally do anything for you, it's not even funny, bro has no standards.

"Y/n! Hey! Hey! Y/n look! Look at this sick trick!" Leo called to you from atop their indoor skating ramp. You were on the floor below talking with April while Leo skated.

"Okay sweets I'm watching!" You call back to give him the go ahead.

With that Leo was off down the ramp. As he came up the other side and was propelled in the air he flipped the skateboard from beneath him and then landed perfectly on top as gravity pulled them back to the surface. When he came back up the other side Leo jumped off the board and looked down at you with a big grin on his face.

You and April clapped and he came down to meet you.

"What did you think??"

"I think that was awesome. Your my talented man for sure," you told him sweetly as you kissed him on the cheek. Leo blushed slightly at this before puffing his chest out and holding his skateboard all cool guy like at his hip. He used his other hand to point at himself with his thumb.

"Well not everyone can be as skilled as ah-THIS!" He boasted while punctuating his sentence with a dab.

"Okay, Mr. Talented," April teased, "If your done I'd like to tell you the reason I stopped by today."

"What?" Leo said with fake shock, "You visited for a different reason other than admiring my rad skills?"

"Impossible I know," she snarked to play along with him.

"So what's up April?" You asked.

"I was working my new job as a part time graveyard day guard and I saw this totally creepy and totally abandoned house right outside my post!"

"April if you're about to tell us you saw a ghost," Leo told her.

"No! But I DID want to find out if there COULD be ghosts in there."

"Why are you telling us this?" You ask.

"Because, I'm not gonna trespass on abandoned property by myself. That's just asking to be kidnapped," she answered while folding her arms.

"I don't know April, I better stay here and keep practicing my skating skillzz, right y/n?" Leo said.

"Well I think it sounds cool April! I'd be so down to go with you!"

"Heck yeah! Girls trip!"

You two high fived and right as you hands made contact Leo popped up in-between the both of you and clasped yours and April's hands together with his own.

"Though I suppose it would be unbecoming of me to not do my chivalrous duty to you both and tag along as a safety precaution."

April looked unimpressed at Leo's forced attempt to be cool in front of you whilst also begging for your attention. As you and April let your hands down Leo's went with them and you took his empty palm in yours shooting him a soft smile.

"So what time did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I was thinking like right now if y'all aren't busy," April told you.

"Sounds good to me, come on Leon!" You said as you dragged Leo to the Lair exit.

-

Apon getting to the building it was abundantly clear that it was very abandoned and very illegal to trespass. A rusted chain link fence surrounded the building with warning signs plastered all around it. Though, it was to dark to clearly read them without a flashlight.

"Uhh, guys?" Leo started, "Are you sure we should go in there? There are way too many signs around this place for them all to be just 'no trespassing' signs,"

"Do I hear someone who is scaaaaared?" Teased April. This prompted an offended gasp from Leo who put a hand to his chest.

"SCARED?! HA! I'll show you who's scared," he snarked at her before opening a portal to bypass the fence straight to the front door. He gestures for you and April to enter first. Before you followed April in you turned to Leo.

"Everything will be fine, and if something does go wrong I know you could bail us out," you smiled sweetly at him and then stepped into the portal. Leo straightened up and blushed, then sauntered confidently through the portal after you. It felt good to know you trusted him so much.

As all three of you stood at the front door you heard the sounds of the house creaking on the inside. The old wood constantly fighting to stay upright. April pushed open the door with a loud creak and shinned her light into the entry. It was dark and messy. A brownish carpet greeted you along with a broken sidebar cabinet. stairs leading up to the second floor were covered in dirt and old enough to be one big splinter. Next to the stairs was an entrance to a different room. There were also different rooms on either side of you as well. As you all shines your lights to get a better look you could see the dust particles littering the air.

"I'm gonna go investigate upstairs!" April told you before disappearing to the second floor. Leo had gravitates towards the right side entryway before turning to you and gesturing for you to follow him.

"I think this is the kitchen," he said, turning his head back. You filled him as you both inspected the room. You broke looked around and noticed some light scratching sounds coming from what you assumed to be the pantry. As you opened the door the smell of rotten food and crap hit your face and you immediately gagged. You plugged your nose with your hand and you used the other to direct the flashlight. You didn't look around for long though as you saw a small, fast moving figure rush past your foot. You let out a short yelp as you stumbled backwards and out of the pantry slamming the door shut.

In an instant Leo was by your side.

"What?! What happened?! Are you okay?!" he gave you a once over looking for any injuries you could have procured.

"Yes! Yes," you sighed out patting his shoulder, "I'm okay, just a... rat. Or something,"

"Okay. Umm, just stick close to me for now ok?" He asked you. He was clearly a little nervous, about what exactly though you couldn't say. He grabbed your hand as you both made your way out of the kitchen.

"You've been hearing those sounds too right?" He asks as he turns to you. You both stop under the archway separating the kitchen and the entryway.

"W- what sounds?" This was, admittedly, making you a little nervous yourself now.

"The scratching. Like something's in the walls," he said in a hushed voice as he squoze your hand. You didn't at first but as you sat and listened, sure enough. Scratching. Or... Scurrying? It wasn't consistent but it happened often enough.

"Yeah," you answered in the same muted tone.

"I think we should leave," Leo told you, "Whatever this houses issue is it's not gonna be ours. Let's grab April and VAMINOS."

Before you two could take more that a stepp up the stairs you hear a loud crash and the house starts to rumble. April begins to scream and you can hear her rushed footsteps against the floor and as you both try to find her you ended meeting her at the top of the stairs.

"RUUUUN!! GO GO GO!" she yelled at you. She pushed you both aside and grabbed Leo by his mask tails to pull him along. Before you two started running though, you see what April was running from. I giant hord of mutant silverfish. They took up the entire hallway from floor to ceiling and they did NOT look happy.

As Leo was being tugged along by April you were tugged by Leo who still hadn't let go of your hand. In trying to position his body to run forward easier and April still holding on to his mask tails, it ended up turning his mask on backwards and obscuring his view. As all three of you exited the house Leo tripped out the door on top of April causing you to fall on top of him.

"LEO PORTAL! PORTAL NOW!" April yelled at him.

"I CAN'T FIND MY SWORD!" he told her frantically trying to fix his mask so he could see.

"HERE TAKE IT!" you said handing it to him. The silver fish where almost in top of you by the time Leo took the sword in his hands. With a swift swing of his sword the portal was opened and all three of you stumbled through it closing right as the silverfish burst out the door.

All three of you lay on the ground between where the two skate ramps met, panting and trying to gather yourselves.

"Everyone okay?" April asked out of breath.

"Yeah," you breathed out.

"All good here," Leo puffed.

"Great..." April sat up sluggishly, "I'm gonna head out then, see ya."

And with that she stood up and left the lair. You both waved her off best you could from the ground. You both just laid there for a while catching your breaths.

"Let's never do that again," Leo said after a while.

"I don't know, I kinda had fun," you told him.

"You have got to be kidding me," he looked over at you unimpressed.

"Ya know... I saw this abandoned processing plant a couple days ago," you said turning your head to look back at him.

"Y/n. We almost died."

"And now we know to be prepared for hords of mutant silverfish," you looked at him, "Please?"

"Uuugggg. FINE. But not for a while, I need a break from whatever the heck today was," he told you.

"Sounds good to me!" You chirped and cuddled into his side.

"Yeah yeah," he playfully rolled his eyes and wrapped a lazy arm around you.

Mikey:

Oh he is just the sweetest little buttercup to you.<3

Surprisingly though, he also is the hardest to persuade.

I mean come on, doctor delicate touch loves you but he will be quick to tell you why a certain idea is....... not so great.

That being said if you get really sad about him saying no he will do everything in his power to make you happy.

He'll make your favorite food, watch your favorite movie, play your favorite game, whatever you want that isn't the first thing that you wanted.

Out of all brothers, Mikey is the one who need praise at the most normal amount.

You guys will probably have compliment competitions while cuddling.

So safe to say praise isn't going to get this dude to do stuff for you.

However, Mikey is able to see how his brothers feel like they can't fully express their feelings and wants them to feel safe enough to do so.

Frankly he wants everyone to feel comfortable enough around him to express their true thoughts and feelings.

So if you are the kind of person to emotionally shut down or pretend like everything is fine when it's not?

He will be a bit more willing to do stuff for you.

Again, there is a line. A straight cut no exceptions line.

Buuuuuut he might be willing to find a couple loop holes just so that his darling can feel better.

Piece of advice tho, don't push it. If he feels like you don't respect his boundaries that's gonna be a whole other issue.

"Hey Mikey!" you chirp as you enter his room, "What'ca up to?"

Mikey looked up at you from the floor, you could see the canvas in front of him and got increasingly excited to see what he was putting together.

"Oh just paintin', like one does," he tells you with a cheeky smile.

"Okaaaaay," you smile back, playing along, "What'ca paintin'?"

At this Mikey looked to his right and then his left, like he was scoping out the area for spies. Except it made less sense since it was his room. Then he looked back up at you and gestured for you to come join him with his hand.

You sat down on the floor and cozied up next to your boyfriend to which he revealed his masterpiece. It was a family portrait of Splinter and his brothers from when they were younger.

"We took this picture a couple years back," he handed you a small photo, "it was always dads favorite so I'm painting it for his birthday!"

"That's so sweet Mikey!"

He smiled and blushed at the compliment. You turned back to the painting. It was beautiful. It was the same picture but Mikey had taken some creative liberties with the colors. They were bright, vibrant, and harmonious. The painting felt like it was buzzing with energy because of it. It felt warm and inviting and at the same time unpredictable. The way the lines, colors, and textures went together, it almost made the painting feel alive, and it was hypnotizing.

"It looks like you've finished, right?" you ask, turning back to him.

"Almost!" He perks, "I just have to add a few finishing touches and it will be done!"

"Weeeeeeelllll," you said mischievously, "Since they're just finishing touches, maybe I could help."

One of the first things that people find out when they meet you is that you suck butt at art. When you met Mikey he tried SO HARD to teach you but no matter how hard you tried it just never clicked. You always saw it as a cute 'opposites attract' sort of thing honestly. The proficient artist and the one who couldn't draw a dot right it they tried. How romantic.

So when your little tease entered the space Mikey knew exactly what you were trying to do.

"Oh no no no my dear," he played along, "You see, I feel your artistic talents are needed else where."

"Else where?" you questioned with big doe eyes feigning innocence.

"Yes. Else where," he told you again, still with his playful expression.

"You mean," you picked up one of his used paint brushes, "HERE! you said as you lunged forward attempting to pin him down in order to paint his face. Attempting.

"NO NOT HERE!" he giggled trying to keep the paint brush from making contact with his face. He had been mostly successful but you still managed to land a couple good swipes.

You both continued to wrestle and giggle as time went on. At one point Mikey flipped you both so he was the one pinning you and reached for a paint brush of his own. You managed to wiggle free in the nick of time and this led to you both running around his room with paint brushes in hand. Every now and again one of you would corner the other, but the other would always manage to escape leading to the chase once again. At one point you realized that you might be able to catch Mikey off guard. You see, outside of cornering each other, all you guy have really done is chase the other and try catch them.

So in a moment of what you deemed to be 'brilliance' you took an abrupt stop and made a sharp turn on your heel to face him. However, that resulted in Mikey crashing right into you and you both falling straight to the floor.

"OH ME GOSH! Are you okay y/n?!" he scrambled to get off you quickly and inspect any possible damage to your person.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I think. Just landed on something hard," you told him as you picked yourself up.

When you looked back at him there was an expression on his face that could only be described as soul crushing horror. You were so confused, and concerned until you followed his line of sight and saw exactly what you landed on.

His painting.

His super sentimental and lovingly handcrafted painting meant as a GIFT FOR HIS FATHER. and now, there was a hole straight through it. Not a small one at that. Not to mention some of the paint was still wet and had gotten smeared and smushed at the impact. There was absolutely no salvaging this painting.

"Oh Mikey I am so sorry," you were horrified at what you had caused. Mikey didn't look at you, he didn't respond either. He walked towards to ruined canvas and slowly knelt down to pick it up.

"I- I didn't mean for this to happen Mikey I'm-" he cut you off.

"Can you please go? We'll talk later, I just need to be alone right now," still without looking at you. You were so heartbroken you had to hold in your tears.

"Okay," you told him in a shaky breath. You left the lair that night, and for the first time since you've known the guys, you left in a considerably worse mood then what you had when you got there.

The look on Mikey's face haunted you that night. You hate to think that you were the one to cause that pain. You were the one that hurt him. You wanted to make it up to him but you didn't know how. It's not like you could remake the painting for him. Heck you couldn't even paint!

You decided it would be best to stay away from the lair until Mikey invited you back. Fortunately for you, it only took about four days for that to happen. Unfortunately for however, it was through a very distressing text that read 'We should talk'. Eeeee 😬

Before you went you baked some cookies to hopefully help lighten the blow. You may not be able to... 'art'... BUT YOU COULD BAKE. When you met with Mikey it was in a secluded area of Todd's Puppy Land, or whatever its called.

"Hey y/n," he said giving you a weak smile and finally looking at you. He looked tired. Like he hadn't slept since you both last talked.

"Hey Mikey," you responded, "I uh. I brought cookies." You gave and awkward smile and his expression softened. He motioned for you to sit next to him on the bench. As you did you placed the cookies between you both as to give him some space.

He sighed, "I'm sorry y/n, I didn't mean-" you cut him off.

"YOUR SORRY?! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO BE SORRY ABOUT?!" you were exasperated.

"Well I-"

"NO! I ruined your painting that took you forever to make that you made for your dads birthday! If anyone should be sorry it's me!"

"Thank you," he told you, "and I accept you apology, but it wasn't really your fault. It was an accident due to us both being reckless."

"But I started it!"

"And I didn't stop you, *sigh* listen. I didn't mean to scare you like I did. I just get very emotionally attached to my art so I was having a lot of feelings that day. I want to make it very clear that I don't want to break up with you and I'm not mad at you."

At this, you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding. When he looked back at you he was shocked. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your cheeks were red. You looked so sad. And so sorry. Oh, if he didn't already regret what he said to you that day he sure did now. How could he had asked you to leave?

"I still feel bad about it," you told him looking down at your hands. He moved the cookies behind him to close the gap between you both and pulled you into a hug.

"Hey, I get it. But if it makes you feel any better I was able to fix mistakes I made the first time and clean up areas I had previously messed up. On top of that I'm pretty close to being in the same spot with its progress that I was last time," he said, trying to console you. you pulled back to look at him.

"You mean you repainted it?"

"Well yeah. It's pops birthday gift, I had to," he smiled at you.

"Didn't that take you weeks to do?!"

"The first time yeah. But I kind couldn't sleep until I was back to were I was before sooo"

THATS WHY HE LOOKED SO TIRED! HE HASN'T SLEPT IN FOUR DAYS!

"Alright well someone's going to bed right now," you told him, picking up your cookies and dragging him by the wrist. He happily complied and followed you back to the lair. Not before thanking Todd for letting you guys use his space.

Overall, you both were just glad that everything was back to normal.

Raph:

Oh bb. He's so soft for you.

Bro will kiss the ground you walk on.

He's also the most responsible.

However most responsible does not mean least chaotic.

I mean the dude tries to lift a bus and ate a literal phone.

So honestly, I can see him being pretty open to a lot of stuff as long as your safety isn't jeopardized.

Notice how I said 'your safety'?

Yeah. Again, remember the bus incident? I refuse to believe that he wouldn't do something stupid for you as long as he's the only one with a possibility of getting hurt.

That being said, like Mikey he has a line. Unlike Mikey that line is drawn with chalk and is very easily swept away.

Now Raph does not like crossing this line. I mean who likes compromising their boundaries?

But he will do it.

Raph is very susceptible to peer pressure and if it's coming from you of all people? He'll do it.

He won't be happy about it after though.

Like he's happy your happy but he will being to feel like his feelings don't matter to you the same as yours matter to him.

So for the sake of this poor boy please don't press further if he said no the first time.

It makes him feel like a bad boyfriend. :(

You and Raph were cuddling on the couch watching Jupiter Jim movies. As per the usual when you both are bored and have nothing better to do. You were positioned on his lap knees pointing to the side so you could rest your head on his chest.

"Hey Raphy?" you said grabbing his attention.

"Yes?" he said looking down at you.

"You wanna crash a wedding?"

"What?!"

"Do you. Want to. Crash a wedding. ... With me."

"And why are we crashing a wedding?"

"Fun," you told him, "but also I'm bored."

He giggled at you. You were such a little cutie and he could never get over it.

"What would we be doing?"

"Oh ya know, dancing, eating the food, photo bombing. The ushe," you shoot him a cheeky smile.

"Okay, one question though," you nodded at him, "how are we gonna do that with... this whole situation," he told you gesturing to himself.

"Sweets, we're in New York. You put on a suit jacket and act like 'this whole situation' is normal, most people will chalk it up to eccentricity," you told him.

"You sure bout that?"

"I've never been so sure about anything in my entire life."

"Well I guess we have a wedding to prepare for," he said nuzzling his snout into your cheek.

"YESSSsssssssssss!!" you exclaimed.

---

After a quick social media search you found the perfect wedding to crash. You and Raphael dusted off your best wedding attire and set out on a mission to have a good time.

You guys had made it to the reception so you just walked in and pretended like you belonged there. Raph was obviously still a little worried about walking in full green skin and three fingered but you assured him it was fine. And you were kinda right. He definitely got weird looks but he tried his best to follow your advise and pretend like was nothing was wrong. So for a while now body bothered you guys.

"See? What did I tell you, no body even cares!" You smiled at him as you pulled him to the dance floor.

"Yeah, I guess," he told you a tad nervous. He smiled at you regardless and you're both began to dance.

It was a fun, up eat song so you and Raph jumped along in your own little world. Twisting, turning, and shimming to the beat, it felt like you both were walking on air.

After dancing for a couple of songs straight you guys decided to try some of the refreshments. You took some lemonade and the little cheesecake bits and found a vacant table. You both chatted about little things, telling jokes and having a good time.

Eventually someone from the party approached you. She was a skinny old woman. Not old enough to be grey haired and senile but just old enough that she had plenty of wrinkles.

"Excuse me, I don't believe we've met," she told you as she sat down her to you, "what are your names?"

"Oh, I'm y/n and this is Raph," you gestured to him and he gave a small wave.

"Well it's nice to meet you. I'm the brides aunt Tina."

"Well in that case, congrats! I'm sure your so happy for her!"

"I am, Oliver seems like such a a nice man. He treats Sara so well. On that note, who are you here for? The bride or the groom?"

Raph sweat dropped, he didn't like lying and it made him nervous that he might have to if you both wanted to stay.

"Oh we're not," you told her honestly. Raph was relieved for about half a second before he realized that now you guys might cause a whole other scene.

"I'm sorry, not what?"

"Here for either the bride or the groom. We don't know either of them, we were just bored and wanted to dance."

"Wh-," her face showed her absolute disbelief, "This is a family and friends even you can't just waltz in uninvited!"

"Well I mean. You can. We just did. Wether or not that's a respectful thing to do is an entirely different debate though."

Tina's face was starting to turn red.

"Well! I'm going to have to ask you both to leave!" she demanded raising her voice while she stood and pointed to the exit.

"Hey, what's going on Tia?" the bride asked putting a hand on her aunts sholder.

You leaned back in your chair resting your arm over the back of it while you took a swig of your water.

"These two hooligans weren't invited! They don't know anyone here!"

"Well that's hardly fair Tina, I thought we formed a connection over the last five minutes," you teased which prompted Raph to shoot you a disapproving look. Tina looked absolutely appalled by you attitude.

"What?" you questioned Raph with a giggle, "Come on this is kinda funny."

"Your making her upset!"

"Eh, she would have been upset anyways,"

"DONT IGNORE US GET OUT! SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!" Tina was full on screaming now, which prompted Raph to shoot out of his chair. He apologized quickly and picked you up by your sides and ran you both out of the wedding.

"Awwwww I wanted to grab some more of those cheesecake bites before we dipped."

Raph shook his head and smiled.

"Your unbelievable."

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

for all of spop's bad writing and tonal inconsistencies, they actually did a really good job of writing a scarily realistic abuser. catra acted exactly like how a lot of real-life abusers act, from the victim blaming and physical attacks to the casual insults that just find its way into the victim's head and stay there.

i would even argue that catra was a more realistic depiction of an abuser than shadow weaver. that's not to say that shadow weaver wasn't abusive, she totally was, but if we put aside the manipulation, she mostly used magic to abuse people. which could take away from the realism factor a little bit.

meanwhile catra only used magic when she used that first one's tech to mind control adora. other than that, she mostly used her hands or tools when she was physically abusing adora. you know, like a lot of real abusers do.

catra also displayed that classic self-pitying “woe is me!” attitude that shadow weaver often times did not. it's one thing for your villain to be horrible and abusive, it's another for them to think that they're the victim while they hurt and kill others. a lot of real people are like that where they think their actions are justified because they've had a hard life.

we also get a lot more instances of catra being abusive on screen, compared to shadow weaver. i can't speak for everyone but there's a reason why catra reminded me of That One Shitty Person In My Life more that shadow weaver did, despite them both being abusive.

when you watch the previous seasons, it's hard not to wonder if the writers planned to redeem catra at all. there were a lot of scenes that were just taken straight out of a psychological horror movie (looking at you, the portal sequence from s3) and i just can't imagine the writers thinking that this was the perfect redeemable villain.

i do think that any villain could be redeemed, regardless of how horrible they were. but the more ruthless your villain is, the more effort you need to put in to effectively redeem a villain. characters like amity or pacifica do not need long and drawn out redemptions because they were just mean girls. bullying is definitely a harmful thing, but it pales in comparison to abuse, murder and genocide.

anyway, i digress. my point is this: it would not be as frustrating if catra wasn't such a realistic portrayal of an abuser. the writers could have just made her a cartoonish villain and called it a day, but they didn't.

for example, it would be a lot less traumatizing if someone like bill cipher was redeemed (though it would be awfully out of character for him) because despite all his crimes, he was such an over-the-top cartoonish villain, it's hard to take him seriously.

the other characters don't seem to have any trauma from dealing with him. they're scared of him or mad at him, sure, but that's the extent of it. it would still feel ridiculous to have them suddenly forgive him, don't get me wrong, but it wouldn't be sending the message of “forgive your abuser, they're just really sad 🥺”.

[edajcheel]

Yandere! Overlord! Leech Brothers take in Villainess! MC after she's been discarded by her family

(TAGS: yandere, manipulation, poison, 18th century, cheating, MC is kinda detached, mentions of blood, the leech twins are lowkey mean, Floyd is obsessed with you and Jade is entertained by you. But both love you dearly!)

(A/N) : been very occupied with college.. But on another note, hopefully my fanfic writing hasn't become dusty!

Imagine this,

The notorious wild hound of the Night Raven Empire. A very well known nickname, throughout the capital and underground, and even in the battlefield. An arrogant, ruthless, and fickle young woman. Anything that slights her ends up getting crushed in her grasp, torn apart and disposed.

Nothing could be unseen with her hawk-like eyes. Perceptive, and sharp.

One would never talk about her greed, an immense inability to let something go when shes shown interest in whatever it is. The result of having a diamond spoon shoved into your mouth after your born. The word, 'wild' describes it all, a stubborn wild hound, that has the capability of pulling the strings behind the curtain to get what she desires.

But just like a wild hound, she can't walk away from the urge to throw, shatter, and break whenever she's outplayed. The teacup that she treasured in her heart was left broken into meager pieces of glass, and the potted flowers that sat beside her bed was thrown across the room. The shattering and tearing upon the middle of her heart was as harmful as poison.

Ironic how the only word she can describe the ache- was 'poison'. The infuriating noise click, clack, and click of heels plays over and over like a broken record in your mind. The stunning light grey of the moon, somehow was brighter that night, gleamed on the forbidden lovers– twirling around on the terrace. So distracted by each other's company, they've yet to notice the girl– you –who was the main audience.

The scene distorted in your mind, and another scene was presented. Your eyes are casted upon the lowly girl on the ground– with her strings snapped. Blood crawling down the corner of her mouth– a result from the poison –and her barely alive eyes looking at you. The glass of red wine was but in mere pieces of shards on the ground, and the blood-like wine spilled. Your arrogant eyes look at her– blaming her– this happened because of your own actions.

"This was your plan all along-..!" The silvery and smooth voice of your fiancée was unrecognizable from all the heavy breathing of panic he was enduring. "Was it not obvious to your keen eyes?" You quirked your brow at him.

His light-grey eyes that you loved, never looked at you even at this moment, busy holding his other companion in his arms. You gritted your teeth, and clenched your fist in pure rage. The realization hit you instantly, his sincereness and gentleness was never real– at least never towards you. The tea both of you shared, the times both of you would unite hands at the entry way of multiple balls, the longing letters– nothing was real. It was just an illusion.

Like a tool, used and discarded.

Like a villainess, just an obstacle to their story.

Like an unfortunate soul, never truly wanted.

Like a criminal, awaiting to be beheaded.

The wild hound sat on her bed, the only thing neat in her trashed room. The portrait of you and Azul were scratched, but the most damage was upon Azul's face. The teacup set– given by Azul –was on the ground replicating the broken wine glass on the terrance. The Hydrangea flowers– given by Azul –was on the other side of your room, ridden of its petals. Chairs, couched, and tables were flipped over. Anything you could have taken hold of, was trashed beyond repair.

"Of all things, you decided to poison that lowly baron girl?" Your dad grumbled under his breath, disappointed. "Whatever penalty you receive, do not drag me or your mother along with your foolish mess." He concludes and finally turns away from your back, slamming your doorway shut.

Over and over, hundreds to thousands, you couldn't count how many times you've caused uproar around the capital. Your irritation at the shopkeeper who didn't satisfy your standards was a victim to your anger, and so was the maids who had the nerve to act clumsy in your presence. Not even the butler was spared from your wrath. But the public had never paid a mind to you, always chalking it up as the wild hound being the same as ever. How very humourous.

Not even your parents paid a mind, no, they couldn't careless. They were already so used to your antics. They'd rather pay attention to your high intelligence, and your accomplishments rather than you in general. Of course, with a society always looking for fresh and new inventions and evolutions– it's a must to be smart so as to guarantee you won't fall behind.

But under unfortunate circumstances, you've finally arrived at your ending line. You've pulled the last straw, and now you'll reap what you sowed. You've done something so unforgivable that your parents have also given up on someone like you.

You've exhausted all your worth, and soon, your life will be taken away from your hands too. Truly, nothing to hold onto in this wrench world.

Your eyes –barely sparking with the same confident and sharp glint –dead and glazed out. You shift your weight off your bed, and walked towards your personal terrace, not bothering to check for any glittering shards of glass. You stride towards your balcony, resembling a lifeless corpse holding onto it's last strings.

The rain was softly drizzling onto your windows, creeping down to the ground. The wind piked up to it's highest volume once in a while. And, the moon, bright, and shimmering over the pitter patter of the rain floated above. Serene, and pleasant just like the eyes of the man who cheated on you.

The perfect calming shade of gray over the turmoil.

You pushed the door open, and walked out under the rain. The very cold droplets of water instantly targeted you, and without a doubt, in a few minutes– you would be soaked head to toe. You stood in the middle of your terrace, with your eyes gazing at calming moon.

Soon the turmoil around you was accompanied by your very own. Your tears were unseen, disguised as just another raindrop. But the agony on your face was apparent. Shortly, your legs had lost all the strength to hold your weight and you toppled onto the ground. The puddles of cold water splashed underneath you, and the rain was the only thing that kept you company while you weep under the moon.

"Oya, planning to neglect your side of the contract isn't a very honorable thing to do." A voice spoke, through the deafening rain. Somehow reaching the other man who stood a few feet away from him. "Sorry shrimpy, you can't die just yet, you still haven't fulfilled the contract!"

The unrelenting words fail to garner your attention. The combination of the loud rumbling of thunder and rain with your occupied mind block them out effortlessly.

Two pair of footsteps were unheard behind you, and a pair of hands– bare and cold –wrapped around one of your tangled strands and playfully twirled it around their finger. "Is shrimpy sad that her little partner cheated?~" He jabbed.

You limply turned your head to the left where you felt the motion, and you were met with glowing heterochromia eyes.

"Ya'know you deserve way better than what that bastard did to you." He hummed, and crept even closer towards your face. "He was just a lame ol' sticky octopus that's been in the mud for far too long~ Neh, Jade?"

The mirrored twin chuckled along with his dear twin's statement. "Eh, Floyd. Apologies, but I was truly unable to see what you thought so special of Duke Ashengrotto."

You were helpless to their tomfoolery, and weren't able to retort back with a snarky comment.

Jade raised his brow to your unusual behavior, "You're not as resistant to our comments as you were before. Have you been downgraded so badly because of the lost of your dear fiancee's love?"

Floyd let out a giggle at his brother's witty jest. "No worries~ we're still an option if you want our help, lil shrimpy!" He uses your head as a hand rest as he waits for your response.

But just like before, they were met with silence. No peep out of your tightly closed mouth underneath the company of the rain. Jade frowned at this, and came just as close as his brother was. He swiftly grabbed your chin and directed your eyes towards his.

"Just one word, and we won't hesitate to help you, under the conditions that you come with us, my dearest."

You took a breath, readying yourself for the inevitable. "I don't understand your thinking. I have not completed my first contract, and yet you propose another deal?" You slur your words due to your weariness. This time, you are the one who is met with silence. And you take it as a chance to complete your thought, "I will be sentenced to my execution in just a few hours. I won't be able to finish our still in-action contract. I apologize."

You are fully aware of the consequences of not completing your side of the contract, which was to marry Duke Azul Ashengrotto. They were the ones to hand you the poison, and you were the one who completely ruined the plan just because you weren't able to hold back your emotions. This contract was an utter failure, and you cursed yourself for thinking you were able to win back Azul.

"That's plenty enough for us. Neh Floyd?"

"Yup. We got our answer."

Huh? In the middle of your self-deprecating thoughts, you were interrupted by two men who nodded along with each other's statements. They both turned to you with devious grins, and stared at you.

"Hehe, your face is really adorable when your confused shrimpy. You look constipated~" You quite literally choke on your own spit in surprise to Floyd's offhanded remark. "Eh? Don't worry, we'll let you into our secret! Enough with the long face." Floyd gripped your cheeks with his hands roughly and wiped it as if he was truly trying to wipe your ever-increasing frown off your face.

While you were distracted by Floyd, Jade sneaked up behind you. You flinch as you felt him nonchalantly rest his palm on your shoulder. He peeked over to your startled face, and smiled coyly at you.

"In all honesty, Ms. ______, we didn't want you wedded to that ruffian in the first place. We are quite pleased at how things are already. So you may rest with no concerns." He said as if he was doing you a big favor, and his dear brother and himself weren't so-called "ruffians" either.

"It's waaaayy better to have you all to ourselves!" Floyd chided in, and shockingly rubbed his right cheek on your left cheek.

"Excuse me?" You somehow mustered the strength to respond, and tried to struggle out of their grasps, but their combined strength made you look like a hamster trying to escape a cat's maws. "L-let go of me, now!"

"Oh? So soon? This warmth is quite enjoyable."

"Yah! Stop thrashing around!"

Floyd gripped your waist even tighter, and you felt like all the air you've kept inside was pushed out of your lungs by force, rendering you weak to their movement.

"Hence, we will propose another deal to you. My dearest." Jade teasingly said in your ear, entertained by your reactions. "I-I refuse the deal! Stop this at once!" You instantly decline his proposal, not even sparing him time to fully explain the full details of it.

"Hey, you love us don't you?" Floyd asked, and your dumbfounded look makes contact with Floyd's serious non-joking face. It was unusual to see him act so docile. "I have no idea what you're going on about, though I do know that if you don't let me go this instant I will call my guards."

"Hm? What makes ya think your guards would help you out?" Floyd tilts his head, "You're practically gone from this family. You don't exist here anymore, lil shrimpy." Your eyes become downcast, and you start to realize the depth of his words. All of what he said was true. You really were going to become a minor villainess who was executed, and the story would end with a "Happily Ever After."

It wasn't the prospect that you were going to die that made you so fearful. But the prospect of dying by your lonesome. All by yourself, with no one who fought or at your side. You grimaced. A villainess in the beginning and to the end.

"Oya, she seems to realize what her fate has been dragging her towards." Jade piped in, and twirled a strand of your hair with one of his long fingers. "See now, lil Shrimpy? You have no one." Floyd's voice fell into a deeper octave. He was done playing around with you since you weren't able to take a hint. "It shouldn't hit you too hard. You're the one with Ms. Yuu's blood on your hands, after all." Jade quietly murmured, loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough so it seems he's talking about something simple like what kind of tea he should have for this gloomy day.

"But, you have us."

"We are the ones on your side, lil shrimpy ♡"

It was a mistake. You shouldn't have agreed to make a contract with two of the most dangerous, and savage people that prevailed over the underground.

How could I...?

It shouldn't surprise you. How obsessive, and dominating the Leech brothers are towards you was your own fault. They aren't normal human beings.

But who am I to talk about human beings as if I'm one?

The baron girl had blood slowly dripping out of her mouth. The glass you kindly offered to her was shattered on the pearly ground of the balcony. Her legs were unable to hold up, and clashed to the ground. You stood there, watching, as she struggled to breath as her terrified eyes locked onto yours. Your dress fluttered in the wind, and your eyes were distant. You turned your gaze towards the Moon. It was so beautiful, but for some reason, it wasn't as beautiful as it once was on this night.

"Today, a new contract will be put into action between the Leech twins and Ms. _____, with the canceling of the contract that was once in operation." You could barely comprehend Jade's soothing voice that spoke softly into your ear.

"In this contract, person A, better known as lil shrimpy, will be faithful and true to person B, better known as the Leech brothers. In return, person B will take care and will not let person A die." Floyd claps his hands, "How do those conditions sound, lil shrimpy?"

Both twins await your answer, and as you slowly raised your head up to meet their gazes once again. You hesitated, but nodded your head along to the conditions.

Floyd grinned with glee and shoved you towards Jade who held the pen and contract in his hands.

A signature to capture your compliance to these beasts.

"Do not be so full of stress, my dearest. We will care for you with all our hearts."

"You won't escape our grasp when you sign those papers, lil shrimpy! Prepare yourself."

A/N : Honestly kinda disappointed in this one. But I hope all of you enjoy it just a lil bit. Felt like I really rushed in my writing and it was pretty messy writing too. But I'm too lazy to rewrite this whole thing. So enjoy this mess 😋😋😋

[reverieparacosm]

May I request Yandere! Varré x GN! Tarnished general headcanons, thank you!

Yandere!Varré x GN!Tarnished general headcanons

Yandere!Varré (Elden Ring) x GN!Tarnished

Warnings: this text contains themes of emotional manipulation, jealousy, possessivenes, sadism, surveillance, stalking, and potential harm

Note: I am 100% sure that Varré is in a relationship with Mogh. Mogh should finally stop being creepy with his half-brother Miquella and get together with his true servant, Varré. (Edit: I played the dlc... I'm sorry Mogh. I take it back)

Varré is deeply devoted to you and would go to great lengths to ensure that you never feel lonely

He constantly seeks your company and showers you with affection and attention, making sure you are always surrounded by his presence

Due to his intense love for you, Varré believes that the best way to protect you and keep you close is by having you join the Mohgwyn Dynasty. He sees it as a way to solidify your bond and ensure your safety

"Our love of Lord Mohg will forever bind us together, in a dynasty of eternal love."

As a former war surgeon, Varré possesses extensive knowledge about medicine and healing

After battles, he takes great care in cleaning your wounds, applying the necessary treatments, and ensuring that you are not hurt or in pain. His skills and expertise make him incredibly efficient at nursing you back to health

Varré has strong reservations about the Roundtable and its potential dangers. He believes that it poses a threat to your safety and well-being, and as such, he becomes determined to convince you to leave it. He will employ various methods, ranging from persuasion to manipulation, in an effort to ensure your departure

"You have the sweetest screams."

Varré exhibits sadistic tendencies in his yandere nature

While he deeply cares for you, he also finds pleasure in exerting control and dominance over you, often through means of pain or psychological manipulation. This sadistic side of his personality can manifest during intimate moments or when he deems it necessary to discipline or protect you

He definitely has a Blood Kink

Varré watches you diligently to ensure your safety at all times. He keeps a close eye on your activities and surroundings, always vigilant for any potential threats or dangers that might come your way

 "Our love will bloom like a rose in full bloom, my sweet lambkin."

Varré has a deep fascination with roses and sees them as a symbol of his love for you

He frequently presents you with bouquets or single roses, carefully chosen and arranged

Varré is intensely possessive and becomes easily jealous when you interact with others

Whether it's a friendly conversation or a casual encounter, he perceives any attention you give to someone else as a threat to his connection with you

He loves to humiliate you

"You are but a pawn, to be used to serve my own selfish needs. You are nothing to me but a tool to further my own goals. So, shut up and do my bidding."

Varré is a master at manipulating your emotions to keep you deeply attached to him. He knows how to exploit your vulnerabilities and insecurities, using them to his advantage

He deeply values and treasures your body, and he desires for you to perceive yourself with the same admiration that he holds for you

His surroundings turn dull whenever he finds himself longing for your presence

You serve as a source of inspiration for him in a certain sense

He becomes excessively focused on you, desiring to uncover every aspect of your being as if he were delving beneath your surface and merging with you

He might even experience instability and express his affection for you through gestures such as sending love notes, creating artwork depicting you, and including the hearts of his rivals accompanied by a message suggesting they wished to give you their heart, which he facilitated

[thegalaxysedge22]

Evol

This is the first part in my collection of lore from love & deepspace.

important info: anything that is italicized (after the quote) is conjecture based off of what we do know

masterpost

CONTAINS SPOILERS

"A special superpower only possessed by a small portion of the human population. Those who have Evol are called Evolvers. After many studies into the field of Evol, scientists can now extract its power, create new weapons, and use it to improve daily life." - Spacepedia

*Even compiling all traces of Evol lore, it still is not explained that well so this has more conjecture than normal.

Despite nearly every person we meet having an Evol, they are supposed to be rare. There is not really any information on how they evolve. They could have existed before the Catastrophe, which would make sense because everyone we meet is older than it, or be a mutation/effect of some sort from the presence of Metaflux. It is likely the former as Ever, a research company who seems to be older than the Deepspace Tunnel, was at least at some point, and perhaps still is, researching them. We know for certain that Ever has been around for a while researching Evols as there is abandoned equipment on the rooftop of the Solon Hotel, a place in the N109 Zone.

Due to this superpower, Evolvers excel in fighting and combat, which explains why Deepspace Hunters are also Evolvers.* We know that Evols grant their owners an array of different powers. Examples of different Evol powers that are cannon include; fire (Rafayel), light (Xavier), ice (Zanye), telekinesis (Caleb), energy manipulation (Sylus). It is unclear if Evols are unique to each person who has an Evol or if they come in various types (like benders in ATLA).

Evols can also be used to craft powerful weapons or have their power extracted from them, although it is unclear how either of these would happen. Ever, a powerful big name tech/research company, is the leader in Evol research and weapon development. 

On the note of energy extraction, a flux stabilizer (not to be confused with a flux nexus) is a tool that can use “stored Evol Energy to balance out Metaflux,” and is the primary tool for controlling the presence of wanderers. You can often find flux stabilizers in areas open to the public. It is unclear how many exist or how far their reach goes, but it is reasonable to assume that there are multiple, especially in any heavily populated areas. It is also reasonable to assume that there are redundancies too (multiple flux stabilizers with overlapping fields). Evol weapons, like the ones that Hunters use, also appear to utilize the energy of a Protocore, which reportedly strengthens Evols and Evol Energy. The Evol-enhanced weapons that Hunter’s used are designed to eradicate Wanderers without harming humans; how they do this is unclear. Hunter Weapons come in a wide variety (all of the weapons you can choose from are, including the one that Sylus tries to gift to you).

* In the Spacepedia entry for Protofield, it mentions how the Hunter’s Association requires two Evolvers for field work, which implies that only Evolvers are able to be part of the Hunters Association, or at least they are the only ones who are allowed to actually be UNICORNS or doing field work

[stick-ball]

saw a hc about jean moreau being hyper sexual especially post-ravens. thoughts? feelings?

thoughts AND feelings! Oh the joy of being given a chance for a hot second to discuss this. You came to the right place my love. ❤️

Trigger and age warning : rape, sex connected trauma, dissociation, psychological abuse, controlling relationships, discussion of sexual acts.

Okay so, being hyper sexual. You know who does that in the books? Andrew actually. I know some might look at me weirdly rn like, 'what the hell are you talking about, he doesn't let anyone touch him'. Yeah, that's true! But that doesnt take away from the knee jerk reaction. (I'm sorry I know this isn't exactly what you asked but I need to discuss andrew first, and that has a lot to do with jean, bear with me).

Andrew finds a partner that he can to some limit trust (leverage, deals, careful observation, "training" them to behave how he tells them) to follow his instructions, which gives him a sense of control. They can fuck, but it's him who's doing it. It's him who's touching, kissing ect. The other person, of course if they consent, get to partake but not create the experience. It's one of the very, very valid scenarios of hyper sexuality as a responce to rape. He is rewriting every poisoned nerve ending in his body. He doesn't actually get off from the sex. For his own release he needs privacy, as shown in the books. Andrew's problem can be, that due to his truly inhumane trauma he can fall into the mindset of defining his sense of self through sex. It's an action and he's a tool in this scenario. Then again, We circle back to control, which is also a key feature of his decisions and protectiveness. Taking total control of the situation which used to be utterly outside of it, with no way out of it. Rewriting it, giving the traumatic experience a positive ending, hell an ending - when, and as suddenly as he might want it to end, is the motivator here. I think what he finds satisfying in terms of sex, not control, is giving sexual consent to his partners and, which he finds just as important, them giving it to him. Because it wasn't given to him. It's a way of building trust.

The motivations sound pretty nice, even if heartbreaking, don't they? Seem uplifting? The problem is, even if in good faith, this process can be very harmful, trauma surviviors mention that (at least ones I discussed it with personally) it feels good, but in the long run it does what this type of coping mechanism always does to your brain (similiar reactions can be seen for different traumas), which is hurt it. It's a form of desensitisation that limits your brain's ability to percieve the situation. It's hard to rewrite and leads to hot and cold kind of reactions, so yeah, having a relationship with a capital R is, difficult. That's what I always understood as Nora saying they are never actually okay (andrew and neil). Or at least partly understood it as.

Okay, so this cleared a couple things up. Now JEAN. Jean and Andrew share some factors of their trauma. While not treated as such, Jean was technically fostered by the Moriyamas, and well, Andrew's experiences with being fostered are faaaaar from what it's supposed to be as well. The difference is in Andrew's situation everyone tried to pretend the horror is not happening, there must have been a lot of manipulation and coercion and just plain fucking gaslighting in these houses. Its hard to talk about but I can imagine some of these monsters wanted him to act like he is enjoying it, and thats just out if the emotional range of dealing with for anyone. Jean knew he's in a trap from day one. Moreover, when it comes to the rape's he was victim of it was ordered by Riko to be done by others. That's a different level of fucked up. What's even more important as distinction here is he stopped, when Jean stopped reacting and fighting it. Because what Riko wanted wasn't violation, that was the tool. He wanted to psychologically break him. When the fish stops flailing on the cat stops pushing it around.

And Riko was constant, his modus operandi was regular, and the psychological torture was the motivator behind most of his "conditioning" of Jean. This is a situation where the abuse has a cause for the victim. It sounds sick and I don't agree with it, but it's a game in their mind. In the books we can see that he learned how to limit the amount of attention Riko gave him and as we know he is not confrontational like Andrew with his problems. And yeah I don't mention Neil as confrontational here bcs he has conditioned himself to run from everything and say he's fine to everything so..., sometimes it erupts frk mit but that's not exactly the same, its a last resort.

Circling back, I think Jean is more likely to be sex repulsed. For him sex, which was a form of punishment, is a cause of anxiety. Sexual tension is easy to mix up with nervous tension because of a feeling of losing control of the situation. That's why if we do get romance in the new book, I am putting my money on it being very messy from his pov. The magical thing about trauma responces though, is that they're not black and white, and someone who is sex repulsed might also seek an ending to their anxieties through it. Yet, it's ts a bit of an opposite motivation to the one Andrew has. When Andrew thinks of himself as a tool, Jean is more likely to think of himself as an object. There's a difference. While Andrew wants to take control, Jean is more likely to use it as either a way to retraumatise himself - so his version of hypersexuality would include less control and more roughness and violence, actually trying to rile the partner up. It might stemm for him from low self worth or be a way of letting out his angers and frustrations. It's not that he is used to being hurt, it's that he doesn't expect anything different. I also think he is more likely to have problems with opening up in therapy. Where Andrew is active Jean is passive, and the opposite. The upside is he might actually be more likely to communicate emotionally than through rules and laws, it will take longer, but be a smoother transition, because more people understand it than Andrew's way of building relationships.

Hope this anwser satisfies you, I'm sorry if I got a bit carried away. 😅

[trekmupf]

Shakespeare & Eugenics in Space

Pro

Kirk backstory, and Kirks way of dealing with his trauma (immediate denial in front of others and putting up a wall, then researching and dealing in private – and later on with Spock and McCoy). Opposed to how both Riley and Leighton react

Kirk seducing a woman not for pleasure but for a secret cause / using his charm and sexuality to manipulate someone.

Unlike in the other cases of this happening he's the one being played by Lenore who is pretending to fall for him to murder him, which is a twist great

Spock immediately noticing something is up with Kirk

Spock then going to McCoy for help and support, twice! Great further development of all sides of the trio in this episode

McCoy's beautiful eyeliner is giving me happy chemicals

So many Spock and McCoy interactions

“And Please, Mr. Spock, if you won't join me, don't disapprove of me”is a line straight from fanficition

Spock correctly predicting how Riley will feel about being demoted for no reason - trying to look out for the crew and always questioning Kirk

Uhura playing for Riley who is lonely → further crew dynamics

The entire confrontation scene between Kirk, Spock and McCoy is great – it starts on a professional basis, Kirk being angry and defensive, and even though McCoy doesn't share Spock's suspicions to that degree he backs him up. Spock then turning the conversation on a personal level – it's not just about ships business, it's about Kirk possibly dying. Kirk then relenting and talking with his two friends about his feelings and the situation. Spock being Kirk's logic and information and McCoy ethics and morals

Great character work for Kirk who is aware of his responsibility, the small line separating vengeance and justice and his own morals

Kirk trying to wait to confirm his suspicions but then throwing caution to the wind and approaching Kodos when he realizes it's not just his life on the line after the murder attempt that would've cost many lives

Lenore rightly calling out Kirk at the end for using people as tools

The Kirk / Kodos confrontation is one of the best character scenes in TOS. The acting is perfect, the dialogue and emotion heavy and direct. The conflicting emotions of a mass murderer and Kirk having to deal with the emotions of confronting the man who directly traumatized him.

Kirk being able to talk down Riley with words instead of force

Kodos realizing what is daughter did making his character even better

set and costume design , fitting music

the whole play within the show thing with its stage & acting

the way the audience gets Kirk's backstory over the course of the episode along with Spock and can gather further understanding of Kirks reactions

the plot mirroring a classic Shakespeare play itself

differs from the other episodes in a nice way- very human and story driven; also murder mystery vibes and film techniques

the tension still holds up despite no real action scenes – first though the mystery of how this man is connected to Kirks past, then the ongoing mystery as well as the threat to Kirks life

Con

McCoy being careless about Riley overhearing him

Although I did like her acting, I think they should've commited to making her insane persona come out gradually / less extreme before the death of her father or play it straight and have her go insane after the death; this felt a bit rushed / sudden

Counter: Kirk fake womanizer

Quote

"Captain Kirk, who are you to say no harm was done?" - Lenore "Who do i have to be?" - Kirk

"What if you decide that he is Kodos? What then? Do you play God, carry his head through the corridors in triumph? That won't bring back the dead, Jim" - McCoy "No. But they may rest easier" - Kirk

Moment: Confrontation Kirk and Kodos - tense, well written and played

Summary: Underrated episode that even though it lacks classical sci-fi elements and action scenes introduces important backstory information for Kirk and gives further insight into his character and morals as well as his relationships with Spock and McCoy while also giving further development between those two. The acting is brilliant, especially Shatner and Arnold Moss, and the tension of the story holds up from the beginning until the end. Previous Episode - Next Episode - All TOS Reviews

[wishful-seeker]

How to Make Your Own Spells

(Or at least this is how i do it)

What makes a spell?

In my opinion, a spell or ritual is the physical act of manipulating the energy around and within us to achieve a specific goal. A spell can look like anything from a few spoken words, like a prayer, to weeks long complicated rituals. You can attempt to cast a spell with nothing but your voice and some intent, or a whole pile of ingredients and tools.

How do spells work?

If we look at rituals in folklore there are a few characteristics that most spells share, but every one is unique, and spells have worked for a looong time even with no set rules for them. In folklore, witchcraft has reoccurring traits, like the number 13 "dance around X 13 times", dancing is also mentioned often, and black animals like black hens, black cats, and black goats. But times have changed, we aren't okay with harming animals for spells, and thousands of people don't use the number 13 or dancing. So why do spells still work even though they all look completely different?

I like to think we as humans have innate power within us that we can choose to utilize in our own unique way. Some spells work really well for the people who made them, but don't do squat for others trying to cast them. I think this is because the act of making a spell or ritual personal, whether you made it from stratch or altared someone elses, is similar to signing a piece of your artwork. You create a bond with those specific actions with you energy, like putting a spiritual signature on it. I think this allows us to utilize our personal magic easier.

I think spells work no matter how they look because the one thing each spell has in common is that we are making a petition to the world and ourselves that we want to make something happen, and because we all have a little bit of magic in us, we can make these things happen.

It doesn't hurt to get friendly with the land spirits of your home, or your ancestors or what-not to help you preform magic. Its very likely outside help will increase spell success.

So how do i make a spell?

You can either be simple or extra with this.

First decide your goal or intent. The more specific, the better. I believe magic follows the path of least resistance so if you aren't very specific with your ask, things might happen in unpredictable ways. Saying "I want a promotion in my current job and enough money to move to a better place." Is better than "i want a better life."

Secondly decide if you want ingredients or tools. This could be herbs that you research correspondences for or crystals you research the metaphysical properties of. This could be items like a skeleton key, a feather you found, maybe a letter someone wrote. I find spells to be more powerful and easier to enjoy and connect with if you use sentimental items you feel particularly drawn to. You don't always need ingredients that have set correspondences, its okay to use things just because you have a good feeling about it or to put your own personal correspondence on things including trinkets, herbs, and crystals. When it comes to tools, like a pendulum, wand, or scrying mirror, you can use these if they feel fun, but they are not always necessary. Some tools can be very helpful in spells, pendulums and scrying mirrors can be used to speak with spirits during your ritual.

Next figure out what you want the spell to look like. This is where your creativity shines. You could do the classics everyone knows: spell bottles, spell candles, and sachet spells. Or you can do what intuitively feels right to you. I personally arrange my ingredients in a pretty way intuitively on a plate then light a candle on the plate, but spells can look like anything. Like i said before, in folklore there is a lot of dancing. A spell could be a dance you do around a fire, or for astral travel dance until you fall and leave your body. A spell can be an art project, perhaps a collage of pictures of things related to your spell. A spell could be something you cook and eat. Let your imagination go wild.

Next thing is optional but i feel like it helps. Im sure you have heard of wiccans casting a circle before each spell to trap certain energies in for the spell. You can do this but i personally like the opposite: creating a liminal space and thinning the veil to really open up to all the energy around me. You can create a liminal space either by being in one ex: at a crossroads, in the woods, at midnight, dusk, and dawn. Or you can make one by creating a 3 or 4 crossroads shape like you would cast a circle. These are both optional though.

Next lets talk about charging your spell and how to actually put energy into it. Again, you can do anything you want. You can charge by dancing, moving clockwise, singing, playing an instrument, meditating, visualizing energy coming from your hands or wand, anything you feel drawn to. For me personally i have to speak my intent allowed and imagine what it'll look like when my spell succeeds to charge it.

If you need inspiration for spells, folklore, fairytales, and stories in general can give you a good idea on what would be fun to do.

Hope this helps, stay punk.

[ambermotta]

How to not Kill your Crystals — Crystal Safety

How often have you looked up online and saw "to cleanse your crystals, use moonwater!", or "bury your crystals!"?

And how often did you hear of someone whose crystal ended up bleached, or entirely dissolved? (I'm looking at you, selenite)

Long post ahead but it's worth it, I promise

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Introduction

There are many methods of cleansing and charging crystals, but what beginner witches and pagans may not realize is that not every method is appropriate for every crystal.

While some methods are generally more harmless than others, if you don't know some of your crystal's basic properties, you might end up damaging them or even yourself!

So in this post I'll go through some general considerations and then list some cleansing & charging methods: the failproof, the ones you have to consider crystal safety, and the possibly harmful ones. Lastly, I'll list what you should NEVER do with your crystals.

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So what's wrong with Moonwater?

There is nothing wrong with moon or sun energy itself. What can be dangerous is Water and Sunlight. It's all about physics and chemistry.

Water

Some crystals dissolve or release toxic chemicals in water. Some examples are Selenite & and Desert Rose (which is a type of Selenite), and Hematite. That means you should never leave them near water, humidity, wash them, or put them inside any elixirs.

Sidenote on elixirs: if you are going to ingest any type of water that has been in contact with crystals, you MUST do a through research to make sure they don't release ANY chemicals in the water.

Plus you can infuse water with crystal energy without them touching the water.

by celestialearthminerals

The Sun

As for Sunlight, it can bleach your crystals and alter the coloration over time. The heat can also greatly damage them! An example of crystals that shouldn't be exposed to the sun is quartz. Pretty much all kinds, including amethyst and citrine.

Fun fact: burned amethyst clusters are very often sold as citrine. They have a burned yellow/brown/orange aspect to them, like in this image.

Real citrine has lighter yellow and orange tones.

burned amethyst – fake citrine

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Fail proof Cleansing & Charging

Nothing can go wrong with them when it comes to crystal safety. The worst that can happen is performing them poorly, which could affect cleansing and charging effectiveness.

Smoke

There's no way to go wrong here. You can light an incense or burn herbs of your choosing, pick up a crystal, and cleanse them with the smoke. You can use energetic herbs such as rosemary to charge them.

Tip: You can choose the herbs and incense based on your stones properties! (For example, use a fiery herb to charge a fiery crystal)

Sound

There are many ways to go about this. Singing bowls, affirmations, vocal singing, bells, prayer, chanting, galdr (rune chanting), calming and uplifting music...

Choose your sound, cleanse your space, set your intention, and let Sound do its job. If you are going to charge the crystals yourself using a method such as chanting to your stones, cleansing yourself first and having a ritualistic setup would be nice. It can help you focus and make sure you will only send positive energies to your crystals.

Reiki and Energy work

Absolutely no way to go wrong. Reiki is a wonderful cleasing/charging method.

You would have to be initiated in order to do Reiki, but if you can't afford that, any kind of energy work and energy manipulation will do. Just make sure to prepare yourself beforehand and focus on what you are doing.

You can use tools to help in energy manipulation, such as an athame or wand.

Water Glass Cleansing

You are NOT going to put your crystals INSIDE the water glass. That's why this is a safe cleansing method.

Fill a glass of water and set your intentions for the water to absorb all negativity from your crystals, then leave your stones & crystals near your glass of water for a few hours.

It is preferable to use a transparent glass. It doesn't have to be, but it is better. I also wouldn't recommend plastic of any kind.

Once you are done, dispose of the water, thanking it for its help, and wash the glass before using it again.

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Consider Crystal Safety with These

They are commonly believed to be harmless (and that's mostly true), but give them some thought anyway. I will explain why.

Immersing in Salt

Salt has strong cleansing properties. You can fill a small bowl with enough salt to bury your crystals and leave them there for a few hours to a day. You could also use salt water the same way.

Why be careful?

Salt can trigger chemical reactions in some crystals. I'm mainly talking about salt water, but just to be safe, it might be best to have caution with solid salt as well.

Burying in Earth

Burying crystals (especially if close to a plant or tree) is a popular cleansing/charging method. After all, they came from the earth! Who else could take better care of them?

You can leave your crystals buried outside for a few hours to a day and let the planet do its job.

Why be careful?

If you are going to leave crystals outside beneath the earth, you shouldn't have to worry about the Sun. It is WATER that you should worry about.

If it rains, the water will reach your crystals. If want to bury non water-safe crystals, make sure rain won't get to them.

Tip #1: Don't forget where you buried them

Tip #2: An alternative to burying outside is to bury crystals on your household plant's pot. You can even match the plant's own properties to the energy you want to work on your crystal.

Moonlight Bath

Not moon water, just moonlight. Just let your crystals bask in moonlight... It is almost failproof.

Why be careful?

I say it's almost failproof because it can only fail if you forget your crystals outside until the sun is out, or until it rains.

If you think you are prone to forgetting to collect your crystals before the sun shines, do this early in the night and set an alarm to collect your crystals in a few hours.

Tip: you can still cleanse and charge with Moon energy even if the weather is not favorable. Just be careful with rain.

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Possibly Harmful Methods

For these, you NEED to know your crystals before you do them. Especially the ones involving water and heat, you should take into consideration your own health due to possible chemical releases!

Sun charging

While it can be great to have sun energy on some of your crystals, this is one of the unsafest methods for the crystals. A lot of them will bleach, change color and even crack after prolonged sunlight exposure. If you're leaving crystals in the Sun, I suggest you leave them out for no more than an hour.

Also, watch out for weather changes if you have a crystal that is not waterproof.

Sidenote: if you have crystal necklaces, remember you might also accidentally expose them to sunlight and rain when you wear them outdoors.

Sun water

Can't have your crystals in the Sun, but it's a fire crystal so you would like it to be charged with sun energy?

If they are water safe, make some sun water, fill a bowl with it, and let your crystals sit in it for a few hours.

Moon water

As long as your crystal is waterproof, it should be fine. Just fill a bowl with moon water and let your crystals be for a few hours.

If you don't know if your crystals are water safe, it's best not to risk it.

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Never Ever...

... Expose your crystals to intense heat

No candles, no hot water, no intense sunlight. Not only you will very likely damage your crystal, intense heat and burning of crystals can release toxic fumes.

... Use chemicals to clean crystals

No soaps, alcohol, detergents, salts, etc. They might trigger chemical reactions when in contact with some crystals. So unless you know exactly what you're doing, keep these away from them.

... Touch dissolved crystal water

If you put your crystal in water and a chemical reaction happened, it's best to not touch the water. It could cause skin irritation and intoxication.

_________________♡♤◇♧_________________

Conclusion

Sometimes we leave crystals outside so that they can be bestowed Nature's blessings, and we forget about them. It happens, as do all accidents.

But you can avoid a lot of damage (yours and theirs) by simply studying about them before submitting them to anything that could be potentially harmful.

Remember your crystals need a lot of love and care, and that goes for their physical care, too. They are unique because of their physical and chemical properties as well, not just spiritual ones.

Thank you for reading and love your crystals!

[shrimpmandan]

The current state of AI discourse is baffling to me because I swear to god some people are just developing collective amnesia and dismissing AI art as "not actually being that bad" when the problems with it are significantly deeper than whether or not it's "real art". It being "real art" is irrelevant to it causing tangible harm. Like yeah I don't think someone AI generating an image to use as a reference is some massive evil, but in the greater scheme of things:

AI art is being used to spread actual real-world misinformation. Propaganda.

Ai art is being used to spread CSEM and other forms of revenge porn. It is also threatening the livelihoods of sex workers to some degree.

People are putting their favorite artists' works through a blender, without their consent, instead of paying them, because image generation is instant dopamine.

Big corps are trying to use AI instead of paying artists/writers because they're greedy fucks.

Most AI programs (with few exceptions) are scraping from existing works without the consent of the original artists.

AI voices are doing the same.

A common argument I've seen is comparing these things to like... digital art, photo editing*, voice splicing. You have to understand that the merit of these things isn't that "they take more time/effort". Effort is not an inherent facet of art. Plenty of tools exist to make art easier that we take for granted now-- many forget the discourse that kicked up when digital art was first gaining popularity. The issue is and always will be consent. Most artists do not want their works or voices to be put into AI databanks. The fact that most AI programs do not care for this, and that a lot of companies are trying to swindle their way into getting artist consent under the pretense of "well they didn't say no", is the main issue. We completely lost the plot when we started focusing more on "is AI art real art?" and "is it bad to use AI for any purpose?", because those are both irrelevant to the question of "is AI harmful?", wherein the answer is yes. This is also failing to consider that "real art" can also cause harm for similar reasons: sexual harassment/revenge porn, defamation, propaganda, etc.

*As a note, this is also ignoring the fact that a lot of people DON'T want their art to be edited or even heavily referenced. It's been commonplace in art usage terms for ages now. This is important to note in the context of AI discourse and copyright law. I also believe there is a difference between voice splicing and AI voices since splicing is more limited and way less likely to get someone actually defamed or 'replaced' as a voice actor, and is just a manipulation of existing voice clips mostly for silly shitposts.

AI CAN be helpful. AI can be used to create references, or make smoother rendering, or even just for fun. A lot of people used AI programs in their baby stages without thinking about how the images were generated or the actual consent of the artists involved, because it was a fun shiny new toy. I also like to think most people who have the means to pay an artist ultimately would. But the issue is not and never has been AI making art easier, or people using it for silly shit, or even people using it for serious art refs. The issue is AI mass-scraping existing artwork, being used to facilitate misinformation, and screwing artists out of jobs. Don't even get me started on AI fucking generating CSEM, or revenge porn, and additionally how it impacts the careers of sex workers.

AI is an issue in its current state. Yes, the panic about it taking over art as a whole was overblown, even if the fears were valid. The capacities of AI art is almost always slightly below the capacities of human-made art, and it's something that will quickly fall in popularity once it stops being the shiny new thing. People using AI to make art easier aren't the enemy either, especially since this can be beneficial for people who do it as a job-- shortening the labor time and all. That doesn't mean AI isn't an issue and that everyone critiquing it is actually just an elitist ableist cuck or whatever. None of this really would've been a problem if not for the mass scraping, resulting in both violations of artist consent, and also it picking up genuinely illegal/nasty content. That's what we should be focusing on. None of this "real art" bullshit.

All that said: I personally would say that using most AI programs-- no matter the purpose-- is unethical because of how most of them function. The only exceptions would be for programs that specifically use consensually obtained data. On this front, I would highly recommend keeping tabs on Adobe Firefly, since it's one of the very very few models out there that has stated a clear commitment to not violating the copyright and consent of artists or persons (it operates off of stock footage and public domain).

[beardedmrbean]

LONDON (AP) — A British man who used artificial intelligence to create images of child abuse was sent to prison for 18 years on Monday.

The court sentenced Hugh Nelson, 27, after he pleaded guilty to a number of sexual offenses including making and distributing indecent images of children and distributing “indecent pseudo photographs of children.” He also admitted to encouraging the rape of a child.

Nelson took commissions from people in online chatrooms for custom explicit images of children being harmed both sexually and physically.

Police in Manchester, in northern England, said he used AI software from a U.S. company, Daz 3D, that has an “AI function” to generate images that he both sold to online buyers and gave away for free. The police force said it was a landmark case for its online child abuse investigation team.

The company said the licensing agreement for its Daz Studio 3D rendering software prohibits its use for creating images that "violate child pornography or child sexual exploitation laws, or are otherwise harmful to minors."

“We condemn the misuse of any software, including ours, for such purposes, and we are committed to continuously improving our ability to prevent it,” Daz 3D said in a statement, adding that its policy is to assist law enforcement “as needed.”

Bolton Crown Court, near Manchester, heard that Nelson, who has a master's degree in graphics, also used images of real children for some of his computer-generated artwork.

Judge Martin Walsh said it was impossible to determine whether a child was sexually abused as a result of his images but Nelson intended to encourage others to commit child rape and had “no idea” how his images would be used.

Nelson, who had no previous convictions, was arrested last year. He told police he had met like-minded people on the internet and eventually began to create images for sale.

Prosecutor Jeanette Smith said outside court that it was “extremely disturbing” that Nelson was able to “take normal photographs of children and, using AI tools and a computer program, transform them and create images of the most depraved nature to sell and share online.”

Prosecutors have said the case stemmed from an investigation into AI and child sexual exploitation while police said it presented a test of existing legislation because using computer programs the way Nelson did is so new that it isn’t specifically mentioned in current U.K. law.

The case mirrors similar efforts by U.S. law enforcement to crack down on a troubling spread of child sexual abuse imagery created through artificial intelligence technology — from manipulated photos of real children to graphic depictions of computer-generated kids. The Justice Department recently brought what’s believed to be the first federal case involving purely AI-generated imagery — meaning the children depicted are not real but virtual.

[heyitsghost57]

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing 3

Pairing: Lamb x Narinder/The One Who Waits

Chapter: Chapter 3 | My darling’s fear

Chapter Summary: With open arms, Narinder is accepted into Lamb’s cult. After spending centuries chained up, he’s scared and overwhelmed with his mortal body, as well as full of rage and betrayal. Although he won’t admit it, he is scared of Lamb, to an extent. He struggles to acclimate with Lamb’s flock.

Content Warnings: panic attacks, sensory overload, violence, love-bombing, manipulation, ignoring boundaries

Word Count: 7k

Authors Note: credit to @maibel-mai for inspiring me to make this fic & giving me permission to post this! this fic is also cross-posted on AO3

Narinder felt himself being transported by the crown. It was magic he was all too familiar with. It was his former magic, which stung his pride. How dare Lamb so easily use the knowledge he taught them against him. He was a God no more. With little grace, he was now in Lamb’s cult, sitting down on a stone. His stress was high and he was one sudden movement away from attacking. It felt like he was slammed down to the ground with the way his head hurt. There was a cracking within in his skull that muddled his thoughts. Reduced to a mortal with little Godly powers, his mind was weak to the cult’s indoctrination. Although he wasn’t as weak-minded as Lamb’s typical followers, it still wormed its way into his thoughts. Loyalty coiled up inside of him, worming its way between his ribs, going past his lungs, and wrapping itself coldly around his heart. The feeling made him sick. His betrayal and anger towards Lamb was too strong. He didn’t want it to be reduced to this; he wouldn’t let it.

Everything hurt. His body was sore and bruised. He had cuts and ichor dripped down from his face, an aftermath from his Eldritch form. His ribs were aching. The sky was too bright and everything was too colorful. The cult was too loud, bustling with joy and happy to see a new member, proud of the traitor. Narinder was quickly becoming overstimulated from the scenery. His lungs felt tight and he realized he had to breathe. Lamb approached him and a hiss left his throat. His fur continued to raise, his tail puffy and pointed straight up. His claws were bared.

“Greetings, my faithful. Welcome to the cult,” Lamb spoke sweetly. The tight coil of rage that was forming deep in his chest, making his blood boil and bubble, quickly came undone. Narinder snapped. He was quick to bring himself up from the ground, jumping on top of Lamb.

Lamb’s head hit the ground hard and they let out a surprised gasp, dirt from the ground getting into their eyes. The sound of their glorious leader in distress alerted their cult. Followers were quick to rush over, dropping their wood and gardening tools to aid the sheep. It was too late, for Narinder was already doing damage. His claws wiggled their way underneath their collar, the bell jingling as a hand pressed down on their windpipe firmly. This collar formally bonded Lamb to him, a mark of ownership and later, friendship and a blossoming romance. Now, Narinder wanted to destroy the collar and snap their neck. His eyes narrowed, as his free hand was holding Lamb’s hands above their head. He pinned them to the ground with his knee harshly digging into their thigh. Lamb wiggled around, squirming and struggling to break from his grasp. Despite his mortal form, he was still very strong. Lamb’s lungs were beginning to burn slightly and they let out choked whines. He knew he couldn’t kill them or harm them extremely. That wasn’t the point. He was betrayed by someone he loved. He still loved them even now, which disgusted him. Narinder hated himself for it. It made him feel gross. He wanted to cut their pretty head from their neck and yet, also cry into Lamb’s arms. The point of his tantrum was to expel his complicated feelings, to show Lamb the damage they’d done to his psyche. Tears of frustration and fear were beginning to form in his eyes, ichor blocking his vision. Why wasn’t Lamb fighting back? They could get out of his grasp with a bit of resistance. They weren’t hurting him now, though they were fine with killing him minutes ago. He didn’t need their mercy.

Although he resisted at first, Narinder let himself be forced off of Lamb. It took three followers to do so. Coughing and rubbing their throat soothingly, Lamb caught their breath. He was so close to them and it made them happy. Lamb still felt upset, their delusions faltering, though that didn’t stop their idolization of him. Against their flock’s protest, they stepped closer to him.

“Did you get it all out of your system?” they mocked, teasing. They smiled at him, their pointer finger raising his chin up. He let out a hiss in response, moving his body away. “You’ll be living in Ratau’s old living quarters,” they said, quickly moving on as they walked past him. Ratau often praised Lamb for being the benevolent cult leader he could never be. Although Lamb cared not for him, they pretended to. He made them believe they were a good person. That’s all they really wanted, deep down. To not be seen as the monster they truly were when their facade wasn’t being displayed. Ratau’s hut was no longer in use, as he was getting older with time. The travel to Lamb’s cult was tiresome on his pathetic and frail body. Lamb was silently waiting for the old man to wither away.

It pissed Narinder off, how they were so quick to brush off his attack. Despite this, he followed them further into the compounds to his new house. Followers rushed over to Lamb, asking if they were okay, and they only stared blankly at them back. Lamb didn’t like their special moments with their love being interrupted. It wasn’t usual for them to ignore their followers, though their flock took the hint and retreated. Lamb’s hand rested at the middle of Narinder’s back, hurrying him along. Their touch burned underneath his clothes. Much like when Lamb was resurrected, Narinder had new clothes. It was the standard, slightly frayed and raggedy red tunic all new victims wore. With mocking theatrics, Lamb dipped down, bowing, as they opened the door.

“The furniture is a bit old, though I could get you newer things, if you’d like? Or would you prefer to sleep in my room, my Lord?” That annoying smile was on their face again as Lamb straightened their back. Narinder kissed his teeth, sighing. His hand pressed against Lamb’s face, pushing them back, annoyed. The thought of sleeping in their bed appealed to him slightly, but he banished the thought quickly. Why leave himself vulnerable to another attack, just for a few moments of comfort?

“Cease,” he demanded, walking past them. He shut the door behind him harshly. He needed time away from them; from everything. Nari quickly closed all the curtains, wanting the room as dark as possible. After this, he laid down on the bed. It had been centuries since he felt the comfort of proper furniture. In his realm, he’d softly stroke Lamb’s wool. It was so soft and warm. Some lambs were killed for their wool when they were rare, close to extinction; it was a luxury then. Narinder found it cruel then, as they could just be sheared, though he wished to do the same to his usurper now. He sighed deeply, wishing Lamb had finished the job. Anything would’ve been better than this, for him to be left in a weakened form with too many feelings to make sense of anything.

Nari was full of rage when his siblings betrayed him. Cowardly things, they feared his power. When Shamura indulged Narinder in controlling life as well as death, it all came to a tipping point. His siblings argued that mere, foolish mortals shouldn’t be resurrected. They were hypocrites. How was it different, when they revived their lovers, their disciples, or their best workers? The Bishops offered peace, knowledge, strength, and food. Though, how could those compare to Narinder’s gift of life? His siblings feared he’d let them grow weak, obsolete, as many Gods were rendered before them. Narinder felt hurt by their fear. They were family, siblings, who ascended together. After their struggles of becoming Gods together, of forming cults, of becoming powerful, they still doubted his loyalty to them. Nari was more hurt by them thinking they meant so little to him, than he was hurt by their entrapment of him. Although the Bishops refused to acknowledge it, brushing their mistakes all under a rug, Narinder was the victim. They hurt their brother, the mighty vessel controlling life and death. And, now, Lamb had done the same. His trust in others was cracking.

A familiar sinking formed in his chest. He clutched his tunic, his claws scratching against his stomach through his clothes. Narinder had planned on courting and proposing to Lamb after he’d been freed. Nari found himself often waiting for their death, just for brief visits. He had to maintain his image of the reaper, though he let it slip around Lamb. Their laugh, their smile, the thoughtful gifts. He’d be a fool to think Lamb didn’t reciprocate his feelings. Bittersweet memories fought their way from the back of his head, although he tried hard not to dwell on it.

Once, Lamb had died by their own blade, their dagger cleanly hitting their heart. Narinder felt bad requesting them to die for him, them usually opting for death by heretics, and the sight made his body jump. Such endless devotion, to pause their fickle life just to visit their God. It surprised him. When Lamb said they’d visit, talking to him through the crown, that wasn’t what he expected. Despite Lamb dying thousands of times and their pain tolerance growing, it still had to hurt. The resistance of flesh, scraping across the ribs, piercing their lungs, dragging into their heart. Narinder’s ears turned down at the choked gasp of pain Lamb let out, as well as their coughing, their injured lung quickly filling with blood. They fell into his realm quickly. Blood staining Lamb’s teeth, mouth, and pretty white wool quickly vanished.

“Lamb,” Narinder started, “although death is of little consequence to you, it seems you come to me too willingly.” Narinder’s face was covered by his veil, though his face would reveal his flattery. He smiled a little.

“Forgive me, my Lord, for my bluntness. I think you enable it, as well. Last week, did you not ask for my company?” Lamb joked, smiling up at their darling. “Given your predicament, I don’t think you’re a rather busy God.” He enjoyed their banter.

Narinder’s chains clinked loudly as he leaned down. As he was tall, Lamb’s full height not even reaching his ankles, Nari often hunched down to speak to his vessel better. “Watch your tongue, my Lamb,” he warned. His raspy voice seemed dark with danger, though there was a lightness of joking Lamb sensed. It was a side of him he only rarely showed to the kits. His hand came down to Lamb, his claws reaching between the ground and their feet to carefully lift them up. Now in his palm, Narinder brought them closer to his face. “It’s not often I humor my vessels the way I do with you. Consider yourself special.”

Narinder’s mind reading was never voluntary, though he grew used to it eventually. He learned to tune it out, bored with the mindless hum of his followers. Yet now, he keenly listened for Lamb’s thoughts. It was almost as if Lamb’s heart was trying to break from their ribcage, with the way their heart was beating. Hells below, who do I pray to? they thought. Narinder hummed softly as Lamb thought of petting him. It was sweet. Hesitantly, Lamb stepped closer, near the edge of his palm. Their fingers shook as they lifted up his dark veil slowly, letting the fabric drape over them. Nari’s eyes were wide. Laughing a little, Lamb’s hand softly brushed against their God’s dark fur, petting him, brushing against his sensitive, white whiskers. Narinder would’ve found this to be patronizing with anyone else, cutting their hands of quickly. Lamb wasn’t aware that letting them touch his whiskers was a sign of trust; Narinder wished they knew. Maintaining eye contact, there was such admiration in his Lamb’s eyes. They were so close to their God and if Lamb wished to kiss him, he’d might let them.

Narinder willed himself to stop thinking about it. His thoughts were rapid as he fought off the phantom sensations of their hands on his fur. Warmth bloomed in his chest. And then, heartache. If Lamb had just listened and trusted him, this wouldn’t have happened. Deep down, past the layers of betrayal and anger and hate and fear, Narinder still held feelings for them. He wanted to shut off all his emotions. How could he still love someone who hurt him so bad? Who hurt the kits, who tried again and again to kill him, who trapped him in this miserable form?

Even when they all reached ascension, Narinder was still far bigger than his siblings. He was used to towering over the other Gods, the kits, his followers, and especially Lamb. Nari was accustomed with being able to hold Lamb in his palm, to gently carry them or, now, to squish them like a bug. This body was much smaller and weaker. The discomfort Narinder felt in battle lingered, phantom pains carrying over in his new state, still battered and bruised. His physical pain and mental anguish all swirled around in his senses, muddling his head. He was now a mortal with Godly feelings and it rendered him scared and overstimulated in his bed. His body wasn’t used to breathing or blinking. Narinder could feel his tongue pressing against his teeth, his fur attached to his skin, his bones within in his body. He felt everything too quickly. Trying to ground himself, Narinder released his grip on his clothes and held his arms up slightly. There was a burning sensation in his body, trickling from his spine into his fingertips, throbbing in his brain. Too much stimulation at once. The sensory deprived God, trapped for centuries, was again overwhelmed with the new world. His fur rose and his tail puffed up. He wanted to claw the skin off his face. His face and neck was burning and he wanted to throw up. Everything was too hot and too much.

Tears formed in his eyes. Narinder felt embarrassed, the God of death reduced to a panic attack by sensory issues. He closed his eyes and willed himself to breathe. In and out, in and out, despite the actions feeling foreign. It was uncomfortable. Nari brought his hands to his face, trying to soothe himself, but his fur felt like the wrong texture. It made him feel gross again. The seconds of calm he was slowly achieving all reverted back to panic and disgust. His stomach hurt and he genuinely wondered if he would throw up. The battle, attacking Lamb, them touching him, this new body, this new realm; it all set him off. They all slowly tipped him towards the edge until, in the privacy of his room, he let himself cry. He wrapped his arms around himself gingerly, his claws digging into his fur, as ichor dripped down his eyes and mouth. Narinder’s skin felt too tight, too snug against his muscles. Despite the current discomfort of touching anything, he still wished to maul Lamb’s face off. Tears, of pain and fear and anger and heartache, mixed with ichor. His new tunic was beginning to catch wet, dark splotches. Narinder felt defeated and pathetic, now fearful of his vessel. He hoped he’d been emotionally drained enough from his panic attack and crying that he’d fall asleep.

⸻

Ascension had started.

Lamb kissed their teeth, disgusted and upset. They looked in the mirror, their fingers in their mouth, pulling it open. When they ran their tongue over their teeth, they found new ones forming, pressing out of their gums. Fangs. They figured they could whittle their fangs down, but the real issue was their horns. Their horns, once smaller and cute, were now growing, curved and upturned. They were sharp and jutted out of their head. The fangs and horns reflected Lamb’s true, monstrous self and it made their heart sink. All Lamb wanted was to be seen as a good person, to be acknowledged as selfless for all they did for their God’s cause, to be loved by him. They wanted their happy ending that they were robbed of so many centuries ago. They couldn’t control how Godhood changed them, though they wanted it to stop. Their emotions were changing, too. It was like they were forced back into their primal state of fear from being hunted, all those centuries ago. Lamb’s thoughts and feelings were amplified.

A formal woodworker turned traumatized kid, barely twenty-one when killed, moved place to place to prolong the inevitable. They remember coming back from the woods, a mass of trees by their village. Lamb had taken after their father, often carrying wood and handling it for others. Logs in hand, sweaty from their endeavors, they spotted their village burning late into the day. The sun was setting and the sky was painted oranges and pinks. Although the memories were muddy now, Lamb remembered dropping their work and rushing to their house. Just earlier, they had said bye to them. They hadn’t even been gone for a full twenty-four hours yet. They remembered them all eating dinner together yesterday, trying to stay calm despite the hunting plaguing their species. Why did Lamb go to work that day? Maybe they could’ve prevented it. No, they were too weak then. They didn’t even get to say “I love you” one last time. They felt like vomiting, seeing their family’s corpses there. Blood and burnt wood and pillaged belongings flooded their vision. Although it tore them up emotionally, they had to survive. For them. For a few weeks, they hid with others. At first, they were desperate to fill that hole left from their family’s death. After seeing others meet a similar fate, they learned not to become attached. Lamb’s brain was high-wired then, strung up tight, and anxious. Their death would come any day now. Soon, they’d be found. They couldn’t hide forever. Lamb was caught when running. Their legs were aching and their lungs were burning. Every part of them screamed for a break. A break, they got, when they tripped, landing on their stomach. Lamb was grabbed and dragged by the ankle. Scrambling to protect themselves, their hands clawed at the ground. Dirt and mud got under their nails as they were forced to move. Lamb gripped a rock and as they were flipped onto their back, they raised the rock to hit their attacker in the head. However, they hesitated, not used to violence, and their chance was up.

Ascension had made their feelings so much more intense. They were experiencing such big emotions for a body that was so small. The urges and fears Lamb had kept a tight lid on were now bursting. They felt like they were losing their mind, in fight or flight mode. They pressed their palms to their temples, their head aching, and tears of pain and exhaustion pricked up. Lowering their hands, they noticed black liquid staining their fingers. Ichor. That was a new sight and it unsettled them. Lamb’s body and mind ached. All they wanted was to lay down and let these growing pains die down. They were paranoid and terrified to kill someone innocent due to their stressed state. However, their flock needed them. Wiping the ichor away, they moved away from their mirror, to their chest. Their night tunics, as well as sheets, were inside. New, clean, black sheets were ruffled out of the chest. Fall would die down soon and the world would move onto winter. Their beloved would need this, they thought, as they deposited the blankets into the crown’s storage.

Lamb had hoped to make a quick trip to Narinder’s hut before people started asking questions. It was around time for people to wind down from work and start eating, anyways. They realized they’d have to make a speech about Narinder soon. His earliest and oldest follower, Nana, would soon recognize who he really was. Lamb pushed the thought away as they headed to Ratau’s old hut. They were thankful that no one disturbed them. Lamb knocked softly, though Narinder’s sensitive hearing woke him.

“My Lord, I’ve brought you something. It’s not a peace offering item, per se,” Lamb rambled, “though, if you’d like it to be that way, it can be,” they laughed softly. Lamb thought about their next words carefully. Their heart raced happily when they heard movement inside, Narinder dragging himself near the door. Narinder hummed, barely audibly. His throat was sore, his eyes were puffy, and his head hurt. He wanted Lamb to leave as soon as possible. “I know your winter coat will come in soon, though I thought extra blankets couldn’t hurt.” Lamb’s voice was awkward and light. They felt guilt sinking into their consciousness, careful not to slip and call him Narinder like they did earlier. They no longer felt worthy of calling him that name. The sound of their nervousness and forced laughs stirred up Narinder’s affection for them. It was a soft flame, barely holding on. He put it out as quickly as it came. Narinder heard Lamb softly place the blankets down, then leave.

Lamb was burdened to realize ascension made their feelings for Narinder more intense, as well. The next day, they woke up with ichor pooling out of their mouth and seeping from their horns. Huffing, they wiped it away with their morning tunic. Lamb made themselves presentable, getting ready to start the day. They stopped momentarily to look at their mirror’s reflection. The sight continued to upset them so they quickly turned away. Before their flock would gather for the morning sermon, Lamb was quick to visit Narinder. Lamb wondered how he was holding up today.

“Good morning, my Lord,” Lamb started. Their voice was soft, full of affection and sorrow, “I brought you some fruit. Hopefully they’re to your liking.”

Narinder was at the other side of the door. His claws softly and slowly dragged down the door. Being called that title wasn’t exactly fitting anymore. Lamb calling him Narinder was personal and he missed it, somewhat. Their voice saying his name always made him happy. He missed that intimacy with them. His siblings had fallen and the only one who knew it was them. It was their special, shared word. He refused to ask them to address him that way yet. Not when he was still mad and scared. He would not kneel to foolish, mortal feelings such as love.

They fell into a quick routine of doing this. Lamb would bring him gifts early in the morning, rambling with their soft, apologetic voice that sickened his ears. He’d be at the other side of the door, listening. He’d daydream of killing them and taking back his crown. The gifts wouldn’t be moved. Narinder thought of shredding the blankets or smashing the fruit up, but decided against it. He liked these daily visits. He didn’t want them to be discouraged. It helped ground him into this new world. His trust for them was still broken, though it was the only piece of familiarity he had. Nari wouldn’t admit it, though he was a bit weak to these gestures. Lamb wasn’t aware of this, of how each gift, each talk, each visit slowly chipped away at his resolve. Narinder wasn’t sure if this was smothering but the part of him that still loved them made him ignore it. He was so starved for familiarity and closeness with others after his siblings betrayal that Lamb had made him fall for them. Although Narinder didn’t mind their hyper and eager feelings for him, his love for them was different; it was built off of genuine attraction, not idolization like Lamb’s. Their romantic feelings now were based off of fear, betrayal, obsession, and loneliness. It was the perfect concoction to make Narinder truly be theirs.

“It took me a few days to have made, but I have a special gift for you,” Lamb spoke softly, at his door in the morning again. Narinder’s breath caught in his throat. The day before, Lamb hadn’t visited him, busy with fishing at Pilgrim’s passage. He was relieved at first but quickly realized he missed them. “I noticed you leave my gifts at the door, which is fine,” they stammered, reassuring him and clarifying for themselves. Lamb sighed before continuing, “but this one is a bit more personal.” By the way their voice sounded, it was like Lamb was confessing to their crush. Well, they were doing that, in a way. Narinder moved his head to the side slightly, keenly listening. He wasn’t sure if it was due to his curiosity or if it was from him missing his lamb, but he opened the door slightly. When Nari peaked out of the door, Lamb felt their heart race. It had been days without seeing him or even hearing his voce. They were happy they weren’t being attacked on sight again. They eagerly shoved the gift towards him. It was too bright outside for the feline’s liking, but he shielded his eyes with one hand and opened the door more with the other as he stepped outside.

Lamb gingerly grabbed one of Narinder’s hands, their fingers brushing against his palm as they coaxed his hand open. The soft sensation made Narinder shiver slightly. He wasn’t sure if he loved or hated it. The gift now in his reach, the cat held it in two hands. It was a neatly folded white robe, with a red stripe down the middle and frayed ends. It was Narinder’s former robes he wore as a God. There was also a diaphanous, black fabric that laid on top of it: a veil. The sight of it made his heart throb. Lamb smiled up at him softly, expectantly. “Do you like it?” Lamb asked. It was in a breathy, nervous tone that made them sound awkward; Narinder loved it.

“Yes,” he mumbled. Lamb got no thanks as he quickly shut the door behind him; it was rather sudden. Lamb pouted at the sight, but quickly bounced back into their cult leader mask. This was progress. He finally accepted one of their gifts, let them touch him, he went outside, and he spoke to them! At the other side of the door, Narinder gripped his chest tightly, his heart pounding excitedly. Blush bloomed over his cheeks and he swallowed nervously. Despite it all, he still loved his usurper.

Although he tried to act indifferent, the gift meant a lot to him. Experimentally, he put the robe on over his tunic. His room was always dark, so he couldn’t tell what he looked like, but he felt comforted. There was a hood with holes in it for his ears, as well as a slit for his tail. It also smelt like the Lamb, of grass and dirt and flowers. He found himself sniffing it slightly, laying down on his bed. Narinder had a hard time sleeping in this form, as Gods didn’t require sleep. He drank little water and forgot to rest or eat. The familiar clothing and the smell of his beloved calmed him enough to finally get an appropriate amount of sleep.

⸻

Narinder woke up early the next morning due to passing out too soon the night before. His fur stuck up and he felt more tired than he did yesterday. He took his time cleaning himself, licking the back of his paw to smooth out his face fur and fix his flipped-inward ears. He continued to do so with the rest of his body before he felt clean and satisfied. The black cat soon realized Lamb was late today. No knocking, no gifts, no sweet words that made him sick. Was Lamb busy again? Surely, their former God who gave them life again was more important than their trivial cult duties. Huffing, Narinder smoothed out his robes. He got out of bed and reached to open the door. He was a bit anxious, but he swallowed his nerves as he stepped outside. It was around 5:30 AM, by the way the moon was positioned. The cult grounds was quiet and still, with the only light coming from the kitchen. His head tilted a bit at the sight. How curious. He wasn’t as tall as he used to be, but his height was still respectable now. His long legs made the walk further into the cult grounds much easier. He was met with the sight of Lamb and a rabbit, a light purple hare with a pink flower pinned by her ear, preparing a dish. Lamb had a soft smile on their face as the rabbit spoke, cutting up food. By the looks and smell of it, it was a meal consisting of different fish. It made Nari’s pupils widen; it smelt good.

Narinder took in her thoughts, full of admiration and praise for the sheep. They seemed very close. It grossed him out. A specific thought took hold in his brain: could our mighty leader ever fall for me? It set him off. Narinder quickly entered the kitchen, much to Lamb’s and their helper’s surprise. She seemed a bit uneasy, given his appearance. Hooded robe, tall, dark fur, red eyes. However, she didn’t seem very shocked; just intimidated.

“My Lord, what are you doing here?” Lamb questioned. They were very surprised, but happy to see him. Narinder’s jaw locked tightly.

“Your flock knows?” he hissed, seething. The rabbit perked up.

“Only me, as of right now,” she answered.

“Nana,” Lamb warned, their hand on her shoulder. They didn’t want her to get attacked, too. They still had need of her. Nari’s eyes narrowed at the contact. Regardless, she continued.

“I was the first,” Nana elaborated, revealing the golden skull necklace from under her tunic. No wonder they were so close; they’ve been together for centuries. But Narinder was still closer to them. Lamb wouldn’t die just to see her, or give her gifts, or flirt with her. They’d never show their real personality of Lamb, just Lamb, not the cult leader. Never to her, never to anyone else; only him. He took pride in this fact. She quickly tucked it back in her robes, placing the cooked, minced fish into a bowl. “A pleasure to finally meet you, my leader,” she greeted, passing the bowl to Lamb.

“Thanks, Nana,” Lamb spoke, forcing a slight smile on their face. Nana beamed with pride and lowered her head slightly, bowing. “We’ll take our leave now,” Lamb dismissed. They turned to walk away before Nana even had a chance to say goodbye. Her ears flopped down a bit, a little hurt. Narinder was met with the feeling of Lamb’s touch. It was now at the small of his back, lower than before. It made his skin crawl with slight disgust. They weren’t directing him back to his hut, but rather towards the temple. Narinder wondered if Lamb knew or cared how much their touch disgusted him, his tail swishing in annoyance. Once inside the temple, Lamb turned back to Nari, sparkles in their eyes as they smiled. He frowned in response. With the crown’s magic, Lamb revealed their room, showing off their powers. Such trivial magic. It was full of books, relics, tarot cards, string lights, candles, flowers, and crystals.

“Why did you take me here?” he asked, after taking in the sight of their room. His senses were overwhelmed with the sight and smell of them. His pulse quickened, mainly from love, though also fear. Lamb brought Narinder’s hood down, which made him hiss, his claws at Lamb’s arms. They made a soothing hush noise to calm him down. His ears pulled to the back of his head, the tip of his tail hitting Lamb’s ankle as they removed his veil as well.

“I wanted to keep you company until today’s sermon,” Lamb answered. They moved over to their bed with soft red covers, patting the comforter to signal him to sit down as well. Narinder was scared to refuse them. He sat down with a considerable distance from Lamb, with Lamb offering the dish to him. “For you. I remember you liked when I put fish in your offering chest.” He considered it, eyeing the dish.

“Do you intend to poison or drug me, damned traitor?” the cat hissed. Lamb laughed.

“My Lord, of course not. I just figured you haven’t eaten since your arrival. I’d never tamper with your food!” Lamb silently took note of putting something in what he consumed. Hmm. Good idea. Sighing, Narinder took the food and slowly began to eat it. Squid, octopus, pufferfish, and swordfish; any cat would love it, including him. Although he’d been starving the past few days, he was careful to eat respectfully in front of them. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself. After chewing and swallowing a few bites, he spoke.

“Are you aware the rabbit fancies you?” he questioned.

Why did I say that? he wondered. Hells below, I get a gift once and I’m sweet on them again.

Lamb’s eyes gleamed, smiling brightly. They had that adoring look again, the one that confused Nari’s feelings. “Yes, my Lord, I know. Why, are you jealous?” Narinder wanted to kiss them so bad it made him look stupid.

“Yes,” Narinder confessed, “you’re my vessel, yet you let them get comfortable with you, too. Mere followers.” He spat out the words with venom, full of jealousy and disgust. Just because he was mad at them didn’t mean they could find another lover. He ate more fish to not feel so ashamed. Lamb shrugged. They desperately wanted to see more of this side of Narinder.

“Did you not do the same with me, my Lord?” inquired the sheep. He froze. Narinder wanted to hit them for comparing their relationship to that of them and their flock. They were so much more than that. Lamb’s knees now on the bed, they crawled a bit closer to Narinder, moving the bowl away haphazardly. The closeness made Narinder nauseous, yet also made his heart dance. Too close. “Holding me, letting me pet you, asking me to visit you . . .” Lamb moved closer, testing the waters. They were too close, “isn’t that right, Na-rin-der?” They enunciated each syllable and it drove him crazy. His name, his real name, out of their pretty mouth. Their knees were touching his. Any closer and they’d be in his lap, practically straddling him. The thought disgusted him. They were still too fucking close. “My beloved God, my darling, my soulmate,” Lamb teased. A burning feeling formed in his stomach, the feeling of fear and disgust. He liked this, but he was still mad at them. He couldn’t forget their betrayal and the fear he held with a few sweet words. Narinder was too scared to move, yet he loved the contact. He needed to shove them away. Why did Lamb like messing with his mind so much? “Don’t be jealous. I can fix that,” they cooed. Lamb’s hand raised as they moved back. Narinder was worried they’d choke him, they way he did to them a few days prior. He wanted their hand to cup his face, to soothe him, and help him make sense of his feelings. Narinder got neither options. Reaching into the crown, Lamb produced a doll. It looked like Lamb. They rudely tossed it towards him, it falling into his lap.

“Why did you make this for me?”

“In case you miss me.” The way they said it seemed so sweet. It almost made Narinder forget that they’d just mocked him and freaked him out. He brought forward a claw, sinking into the neck of the doll. Lamb whined that he was killing the stuffed animal. “Anyways, are you done eating? It’s almost time for the sermon.” He’d lost his appetite. Sighing, he shoved the doll into his pocket. It smelled like them. It made him want to rip its head off. He nodded and reached up to put his hood back on. “No, you can’t! You’ll freak the cult out, like you did with Nana!” Lamb exclaimed, grabbing his wrist. Hearing her name again made him roll his eyes. They let go of his wrist and he found himself missing their touch.

“Okay. But one more thing.” Lamb turned to Narinder and froze as he grabbed them. One hand was on their shoulder and the other gripped their horn. Even though his touch was loving and delicate, the growing pains Lamb felt made them wince at this contact. Narinder thoroughly rubbed his cheek against Lamb’s. His face brushed against their forehead, the hairline of their wool, against their nose, and down to their cheek again. Then, his head dipped lower to their jawline and their neck before he pulled away and let go. Lamb wasn’t sure what he was doing, wondering if he’d gone mad. He was suddenly very touchy. They loved it, but they were still surprised. Narinder’s scent was successfully on his Lamb. If Lamb would get in his bubble, then he’d do the same. Pleased, Narinder let Lamb lead them to the temple.

The bell rung throughout the grounds, followers quick to gather within the building. There was their mighty leader. They looked flushed with their wool a bit messy. Next to them at the alter was a tall black cat. To his dismay, no veil nor hood was permitted right now. Lamb’s palm pressed against their book of scriptures. It was Narinder’s native tongue that he could speak freely. For Lamb, it took them decades to do so, and even now their talk was slightly clunky. The book wouldn’t be needed for today. Lamb’s other hand gripped Narinder’s arm, pulling him closer to the altar. Once satisfied with this positioning, Lamb let their fingers brush against his. Being rather docile today, Narinder didn’t move away. Pushing their luck, Lamb locked pinkies with their God. He didn’t move.

“My leader,” one of Lamb’s disciples called out. His name was Cedar, a dog. He dared to speak. “Forgive me, though why is he here?” Lamb sighed.

“Well, my faithful, that’s what today’s sermon will be about,” Lamb responded. They nervously cleared their throat. “Some of my more observant or older followers may recognize this being . . . He’s The One Who Waits, our former God. The unholy one, Ruler of Death.” Gasps and murmurs were heard throughout the temple. Lamb’s hand rose in the air, then formed a fist to silence their flock. “You might ask ‘why is he here?’ Especially after attacking me?” They side-eyed him before continuing. “Well, because I’m the new God of Death. Unlike the Bishops of the Old Faith, I shan’t hold grudges or let myself give into my anger. Many of you are converts from other biomes, and I welcomed you with open arms. I’ll do the same with The One Who Waits, as I owe him my life. Although I have usurped him and you’ll now worship me, you will treat him with respect.” Lamb’s free hand rested on their chest, their heartbeat thumping against their chest. “If it weren’t for him, none of us would be here now, living comfortably. Be grateful in the face of divinity, as you’re all honored to be in his presence.”

Excessive praise, a grand display of their loyalty, too many compliments, and showing him off in front of all their flock. Lamb’s speech was embarrassing him. Narinder felt his face flush and was thankful his dark coat didn’t reveal it too much. He wished to be trapped again, just to get away from this. He was nervous but flattered. Lamb’s finger locked with his held him there like an anchor.

“My Lord, what shall we call him?” another follower asked. They were referring to how “The One Who Waits” no longer suited him.

“Na -” he started. Lamb took full hold of his hand, interlocking their fingers and squeezing his hand. Despite him no longer being a God, his true name would stay unspoken. It was only for Lamb to say, no one else. Apparently, they didn’t like sharing. Lamb rolled their eyes at the question, quickly becoming annoyed.

“Hm, well, let me think . . .The Unchained One, Freedom, The Undead, The Freed One . . . Any of those are good,” Lamb interrupted him. It was a joke that only they found funny. Narinder thought carefully before speaking, ignoring their cruel humor.

“You may call me Fate,” the black cat said. Lamb nodded. The sermon was a bit awkward, with Narinder standing there, still holding their hand. Lamb had to come up with a new script, as they were no longer worshipping Narinder, but themselves. To tease Narinder, they stepped away from the altar and handed him the book at one point, inviting him to give the sermon instead. Narinder wanted to bang his head into the wall.

“ . . . Praise the Lamb, our faithful, for blessing us with shelter, food, and peace. Although strong, never merciless nor uncaring, thine leader only loving. May we be blessed by thou, Death.” The words came out strained, an awkward tone in Narinder’s voice. It was the monotonous speech Lamb used to give, though tweaked slightly. The flock didn’t seem to mind, though. They were more in shock to see him listen to Lamb.

“Praise be the Lamb,” they echoed. The sermon had ended and their followers began to leave the premises. Narinder’s social battery was officially drained for the day. He wanted to yell at Lamb for embarrassing him. He wanted to tell them he only went along with it because he chose to, that he was still in control, that despite their new title, Lamb still served him. The words dissolved in his throat when Lamb pet him softly. Gingerly grabbing his hand, Lamb pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. Narinder hissed in response, quickly drawing his hand back. He was losing his patience.

“Good job, my devoted. Since you’re so sociable today, I expect you to be able to do chores tomorrow, as well as converse with others. Right?” Lamb said. It was more of a demand than a suggestion. Narinder’s ears went down, his tail whipping, unhappily.

“Yes, my Lamb,” he groaned. They smiled up at him.

Docile, obedient little thing.

“Good.”

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[sophieinwonderland]

I don't want this to come off as rude but why do you view religion as a tool? It's just not for most people. Religion is how people live and breathe and impacts literally everything about people. It's so much more than a tool to get what you want. And I know people have used it as a tool in the past but that doesn't make them right either. So many people (plurals included) have devoted their lives to religion because it impacts them on a much deeper level than that of just a tool to be used. It has quite literally saved so many lives I just don't quite understand why you see it so shallowly. /gen

And just because people have used religion for ultimately heinous purposes doesn't mean any given person is. Most people who follow religion just resonate with it and might spread it to those who want to know about it but they don't intentionally make anyone angry with it ( I know there are some but most just don't). And I was raised christian so I very much understand having qualms and disagreements with the church I just don't quite understand why you see their beliefs so much lighter than they do?

This is all meant under good faith and I don't mean it if this came off rude and if it did I apologize. Have a lovely day/night and more power to you in your fight for acceptance :)

It's a good question. I understand how it can come off as insulting. I don’t want it to be but there isn't a better way to put it.

And I realize most people don't see it that way. I wanted to reply that the people who don't see religion as a tool are those who aren't wielding it but I imagine people who do wield it as a tool don't see it that way either. But the fact still remains.

You go to church and a preacher steps out to deliver their sermon. This preacher is a normal person given a platform by their faith and people's trust in their religion.

At some point, this preacher is going to use their platform to push some type of agenda.

A conservative preacher might give a sermon about how God hates gay people. That you need to defend the sanctity of marriage because it's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.

A liberal one might come out saying that God loves gay people. That people are born that way and that God would never make an imperfect creation. That love is love, and it needs to be defended at all costs.

Both of these people are wielding religion and their platform to accomplish their goals.

And it's not something that has happened before in the distant past. It's something happening all across the world right now.

And it's not just politics either.

There are some people out there who are going to wield this tool to enrich themselves, gaining huge profits from the Church out of their own greed.

Then there are altruistic people who will wield the faith of their congregation to fund a new children's hospital or homeless shelter and help people.

And while I talk about the preachers as they have the largest platform, plenty of other respected people in a church can wield its influence to a lesser extent.

I don't think this is a bad thing. I just think this is the way it is.

And frankly, I think liberals are too hesitant to use this tool. Many think it's manipulative and feel guilty about it. But in my opinion, good people leaving a tool like that on the table just makes it that much easier for bad people to use against them.

And I'm not saying religion is ONLY a tool either. Just that it is one.

The larger point though is that the religion itself isn't good or evil. The morality of a faith is dictated by its weilders and how they use it. And I believe that even religions which have historically caused great harm can be forces for good with good people at the helm.

[rxttenfish]

Trick or treat!

you get: a cleaner crab!

merfolk like biotech. like, they really like biotech. mostly because the evolution of their technology started at an entirely different place than humanity's, with the biggest marker being that fire was never an option for them. instead, their technology got started from their habit of, like mountain lions and other large predators, cultivating the environment around them through their presence to encourage biodiversity and certain growth. thus, they started with domestication of sessile animals on top of things like rudimentary tools formed from what they could find, and as they went along, more and more the process of refining materials was handed to those sessile organisms, whos growth of shells and skeletons could be controlled and manipulated into forms useful for merfolk.

it's come a long way since then. in fact, merfolk tend to really enjoy creating "living tools" that still primarily look like normal animals, or otherwise tinkering around with their domestic livestock and other animals to have shapes and forms a little more in line with their living tools. the line is incredibly blurry between both, after all, and being able to read DNA is fairly universal. merfolk might have to provide additional nutritional supplements, but they more than readily know how to package and safely hand it off to their living tools and livestock in a form that they can make use of without being harmed by now, so they feel free to mess around a little.

basically all merfolk settlements are full of other animals. this stems from what i mentioned before, that their sheer presence alone acted as the basis for a biodiversity hotspot, being as, through the process of eating and living and creating trash, they created a lot of free nutrients for other animals who are already primed to be able to make use of that. because of this, merfolk can seem pretty messy... but they're already working with the existing confidence of living in a marine environment, and always having something else around that will be more than happy to eat their trash. why not throw something on the floor, when you know it'll be moved away and eaten by a glorified pet/roomba in a number of minutes, and you never have to worry about it?

and merfolk take great pride in this! its why their definition of "domesticated" is so loose. they always have a dedicated cleanup crew who doubles as livestock and food in a pinch, let alone the way merfolk can repurpose their bodies to create other items too. cultivating and taking good care of them is important, and having a healthy and thriving animal community around a merfolk settlement is a point of pride, and at least partially why animal and natural motifs are so common in their artwork.

for the royals, they especially like to show them off and take great pains to differentiate their animal communities as another gesture of their wealth, so individual royal castles will often have their own "designs" for modified cleaner animals, including crustaceans like crabs.

often these are through colors and specific patterns, or engineering them to host cultures of glowing bacteria on their carapaces, or adding spikes or flanges off of their limbs, even sometimes closely resembling other species who might be adapted to radically different environments. but, for the low royals like miranda, a favorite is to engineer such cleaner animals like crabs and snails to use rare metals as a decorative outer layer on their shells, making them bright and glittery and looking very much like moving pieces of jewelry or treasure as they scurry across the floors and walls. other elements might be added by hand, such as sculpting or carving thicker parts of their shells, or adding jewels and pearls to engineered "soft" or adhesive portions of their carapace. they can get incredibly elaborate, and are somewhat treated as pets by the royals involved, who often enjoy memorizing specific crabs and watching them as they go about their business.

for your common descent episode, camouflage, and for your fossil animal, palaeocastor: