#cult like behavior boy do I have news for you that you will not like

[germiyahu]

It's the global south who brought Israel to court. You can go on and on about the anti semitic white west. But refusing to see that it is the white west who is funding the genocide of Palestinians. The white west who is funding Israel...every single word of yours fall flat. I don't know what you have against the strike. I have seen someone go as far as to say it is a cult like behavior. The strike has been called by a Palestinian in Gaza. Every time they come online, they plead with people to not stop marching or protesting. How is it that you are miffed at this? You said such stupid things in your post. Wanting Daddy's approval and hence Jews are seen as enemy and Muslims as noble savage. It is absurd that you cooked up all this and left out the simple fact that people want the genocide of Palestinians to end. They want the occupation of Palestinian land to end. I am not from the west. My country had no part in holocaust because while the colonial white west was participating in this ethnic cleansing, my country was busy fighting for its freedom. So to see you not even deign to look at how the east, the global south, the various indegenous groups all over the world, the various oppressed communities all over the world are screaming their lungs out in horror of this west funding genocide, all I can think of is that you have been made blind. How can you on day 111 + 75 years be blind to Palestine. How can you be blind to Israel committing genocide.

It's South Africa specifically, who's had some interesting wire transfers from Hamas lately. It's South Africa, who was also seen graciously hosting the the actual Butcher of Darfur. Not a very principled stance against genocide if you ask me.

I'm not sure what specific strike you're referring to, unless you mean the absurd to the point of comedy strikes against McDonalds and Starbucks. Oh you'll definitely bring down the Zionist Entity by not ordering Big Macs. I also do not understand at all what point you're trying to make by saying the White West funds Israel therefore Palestinian genocide, so my words about the WW's antisemitism fall flat. Yes a large sector of White Western society supports Israel. White Western society is also antisemitic. If this is too hard to grasp just let me know...

And with all due respect, when I'm talking about Westerners and what I suspect is the girding psychological framework for why they're primed to care about this "screaming ones lungs out" from the Global South... I know what I'm talking about. I am Western, I live among these people. You do not.

And I'm not, frankly, very impressed. Firstly that you think the Holocaust is some silly little thing that happened in Europe and not relevant to the rest of the world, and that you think the Global South has had any conniptions about purging their own Jews historically. Granted most of those countries were Arab, but that's part of the Global South.

There is no genocide of Palestinians. There is not. There never has been and hopefully there never will be. If you can't agree that reality is reality you have no business talking to me. So when people deal in blatant falsehoods like that I'm going to dive a little deeper into why people are saying things like that. Because that's what I do. I know "wanting the genocide and occupation to end" is not the full story. I know there's something underneath the surface. When it comes to the White Westerners, who I have experience with, I thereby present my theory. What the Global South or the East or whoever else thinks, is not in the purview of my post. Go make your own.

Also Zionism is older than 75 years so I'm going to give you that one for free. It's actually been almost 150 years of Palestinian genocide 🤓

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Wearing Something Tight/Skimpy

Requested: heyy! can i request a The Boys preference where (during early relationship) they see reader in more tight fitting clothes for the very first time (reader usually wears baggy jeans and oversized shirts, but now for once wears shorts and a tight fitting tanktop or smth) tysm! - @yinorathedragontamer

A/N: Screaming I love this! As someone who loves baggy clothing, there's nothing better than showing off the ✨️goods✨️ when I feel like it lol. This was super fun to imagine! I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher is pretty shocked. Whereas you usually lean towards oversized shirts and big pants, you were dressed in something revealing, tight. You tried to look casual, secure, but underneath you were full of insecurities. You think I look stupid, you say, following his gaze up and down your body. Stupid is the last word he'd ever use. Butcher wears this wicked smile, telling you exactly what he thinks. You laugh, telling him to shut up before he's saying anything else. He loves what he sees. Because your relationship is still new, he's trying to be on his best behavior, but you know how his mind works. You throw your sweatshirt over your outfit, calling him ridiculous, laughing at him. Now that he knows what's underneath those oversized layers, he can't keep his thoughts or hands off you.

Hughie is all giggles and smiles. He hadn't realized you'd kept one of your suits from your time at The Seven. This suit, however, was different from the one you regularly wore. This was tighter, more exposing, showing off every curve and contour of your body. It was the only one you were allowed to take with you and there was a reason you rarely put it on. He wasn't used to seeing you like this. You wore big sweatshirts and wide pants. He never thought he'd be as surprised as he was when he finally saw you, but he was. Your body was. . . wow. He tries to hide his excitement, but he can't. Seeing this, you do a little spin for him, growing self-conscious. Do I look stupid? You ask. He's quick to tell you you look amazing. Because your relationship is still new, he doesn't want to sound too excited, but to him, you look amazing. He's glad he got to see you like this.

Annie wants to show you off to everyone. She knows now is not the time nor place: you've put on your old Supe suit to make a point against those in favor of Homelander. It's serious and important and dangerous given his fans would do anything to get a piece of you, anything to tear you down. But she can't help it, she can't take her eyes off you. She's never seen you in your suit before. You quit The Seven before your promo pictures could come out, after you'd been introduced. You took the suit with you. By then, you'd had a sort of a cult following, people interested in your story before you had the spotlight shown on you. It helped that you and Annie were newly together. She hadn't realized you'd kept your suit so when you showed up at Starlight House wearing it, she was speechless. She'd never seen your body like that before. She couldn't take her eyes off you.

M.M. is speechless. You got all dressed up for a date. Before this, your dates had always been casual, spur of the moment, low key. Tonight Marvin went all out for reservations at a fancy place you'd never even heard of. You figured you'd pull out your best clothes which just so happened to be a little tighter and more revealing that your typical wardrobe. He picks you up at your place, not recognizing you at first. You're self-conscious, making a joke about your appearance before anyone else has the chance. He wouldn't though. He thinks you look amazing. He was always more than a little curious as to what exactly you were hiding under big t-shirts and baggy pants, but your relationship was new and so he felt a little shy wondering. Now he was glad he had waited: you were breath taking.

Frenchie is obsessed. Mon Couer, where have you been hiding all this?! It definitely makes you laugh and a little embarrassed. He's never minded your usual clothes. He's all for oversized sweatshirts and comfort and the overall aesthetic. He thinks you look adorable in your usual clothes, but this? Wow. Just wow. You jokingly tell him to pick is jaw off the floor. You and Kimiko are going undercover as a wealthy couple. She's all dressed up and waiting for you. Not only are your clothes expensive looking, but they fit like a glove. He's never seen so much of your body. It drives him wild. You get compliments from everyone, but Frenchie, your new boyfriend, can't get enough of you. If this mission weren't so important and time sensitive, he would have spent the whole night telling you just how sexy you looked.

Kimiko has never seen this much of you all at once. Together you're going undercover. She's wearing a dress with her hair and makeup done. It makes her feel like a clown. Still, she does it because she has to. And you do, too. You lose the baggy pants and big shirts for something a lot more tight and way more revealing. The rest of The Boys have a lot to say, all of it you laugh at and tell them to shut up. Kimiko hopes it's too dark to see that she's blushing, watching you step out of the car. If she spoke she would have been speechless. Instead she plays it off cool, telling you you look great, before going in. In any chance she can get though she stares you up and down, taking you in, smiling to herself. She doesn't get distracted about anything, but you? Oh you're all she can think about.

Bonus! Homelander doesn't really think about your body, or anyone's body. It's more of a want more than anything else and it typically involves milk. Still, when you come out and show everyone your suit, he's pretty speechless. Your civilian clothes and fashion are oversized, baggy, and comfortable. He's never really seen your body before, no one has. Your PR team wanted to fix that though. You're not so sure about your suit: it leaves little to the imagination. When you step out you're embarrassed, wishing for your sweatshirt. Homelander never compliments anyone unless it's backhanded, but he really does like what he sees. It's kind of a throw away line, one that seems innocent and nonchalant, but for him it's a huge deal. He can't stop thinking about you. Even when you put on the other variations, he has final say. Everyone is too scared to say no to him. He liked the first one so you wear the first one.

Bonus! Soldier Boy is practically drooling. The moment he sees you his jaw is on the floor. He's never minded your usual fashion: baggy clothes were comfortable and cute. He would have minded had he known you were hiding *all that* beneath oversized sweatshirts/sweaters/t-shirts and baggy pants. He can't help himself (not that he ever held anything back usually) when he makes remarks and jokes and innuendos. It comes out so fast it's almost compulsive, he's barely breathing between words. The Boys think it's hilarious how much attention you're getting from him considering they've grown used to these switch ups between clothes. He practically begs you for an ounce of attention, affection, and you use it as leverage. As long as you're wearing as little as possible, Soldier Boy will do anything you want.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

that isn't very holy of you :/

Yandere church boy x gn!reader

It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time

Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention

✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area

✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces

✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter

✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday

"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"

✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention

✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching

"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"

✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph

✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile

"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"

✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal

✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...

✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?

✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...

✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you

✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...

✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..

✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?

"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 1

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"

"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.

Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.

With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'

The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.

The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"

A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."

"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.

"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.

"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."

You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."

"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.

"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"

Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"

He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.

"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"

Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.

"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."

"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."

"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."

"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.

You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.

Part 2

A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞

[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire: Pilot

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: The Delta is a commune in the middle of nowhere established by Santiago's mother. Since Divine Mother's passing in a rebellion a decade ago, Santiago, known as The Pope, and his half-God brethren Francisco, Benjamin and William have ran the commune. Now it is time for them to take a collective bride to breed, to bring the savior into the world.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence.

This is not meant to be a statement about religion, Christianity, or Catholicism, this is simply my take on a cult. I am a religious person. I understand that some of this may be very offensive to religious people so if you don't like thing like AHS Asylum or Black Mass, maybe consider not reading.

"Come on home, girl, he said with a smile You don't have to love me yet, let's get high awhile But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand That I'm a magic man." ~Magic Man, Heart.

"God dammit Benjamin, what the hell is wrong with you!”

Will smacked Ben upside the head as Frankie chided him.

Ben tried to defend himself. “Hey! You guys act like you don’t sleep with ‘em too, why are you blaming me?”

“You’re fucking a new woman every goddamn week, you have no fucking class, we’re not even supposed to be sleeping with these women,-”

Santiago’s voice, strong and comanding, broke through the bickering. “Gentlemen, please, this is not becoming behavior for Gods.”

With their leader’s command, the other three settled down, Frankie’s eyes casting away. “Sorry, Pope.”

Pushing himself off from the wall he had been leaning against, Santiago walked toward the group. “That can’t be all the options. There’s no way Benny’s made his way through every of age virgin in our compound, we have over 5 thousand people here.”

The men thought through the women they knew, the various families at the massive compound who could accomplish their task. She couldn’t just be a virgin, that was the thing.

They needed their Madonna.

Before her death, Santiago’s mother informed their group that the prophecy would not be fulfilled through Santiago, that he was not the promised savior. Instead, he was destined to lead after her passing and that Santiago, Francisco, William and Benjamin were all demi-Gods. This was a step up for the Millers and Francisco, who had spend their youths in the privileged position of foster brothers to Santiago and living under The Divine Mother’s roof and direct guidance. To Santiago, however, this was a humiliating demotion.

His childhood was never one of whimsy, growing up told that he was a God, that he was the second coming, that he was the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned… All that changed in his pre-teens. Suddenly, his mother was less pleased with him. His divinity was constantly dangled above his head. When his 20’s came and he failed to be what his mother wanted, she stripped him of his full God-hood.

So why, pray tell, were him and his fellow leaders and brethren searching for a virgin? Since Santiago had failed, they needed to father a new child. A new savior. Divine Mother’s instructions were clear; they were all to wed and breed a virgin from their compound. She was to live in their home as their wife for them to use not only whenever they wanted, but whenever they could. A sacred duty to be fruitful and multiple. It didn’t matter whose child grew in her, as long as there was a child. The world would be saved, and Santiago would earn his mothers favor from the heavens.

So, she couldn’t just be anyone. She needed to be a virgin, pure and holy. She needed to be beautiful, strong, faithful to their ways, faithful to the Divine Mother, faithful to the Pope, William, Benjamin, and Francisco.

“What about Marcus’s kid?’ Will asked, breaking their silence, causing everyone to turn to him.

Frank frowned. “You think the daughter of a traitor is the best option for the Madonna?” The sarcasm was clear. He didn’t like this plan as it was. He didn’t want strangers in their home, breaching security, putting his brothers at risk.

“That might actually be the solution to the problem.” He waited until Pope gestured for him to go on, not immediately shutting it down.

“The rebellion was when she was 12, the interrogations found she had no knowledge of her father’s plans. Ever since, she has been isolated. Lydia says she has caused no problems in the women’s home, been obedient but has no friends, no connections.”

“So you think she’s intact?”

“Santi, I doubt she’d had her first kiss.”

Since the rebellion 10 years ago, Will has set up measures to identify problems before they become something like that, and that meant keeping tabs on people. Single women lived in a few group homes throughout the compound. Each home had prefects that reported to house mothers, and house mothers that reported to Will. Anyone that was of any concern, Will checked in on, that included daughters of rebels.

“And she danced at the fire?” Pope asked, arms still crossed but listening.

Will nodded. “She did. No signs of disloyalty.”

Muttering, Frankie asked Ben if he’d slept with her in recent years.

He shook his head. “Nope. Forgot she existed.”

Frankie watched as Pope thought things through, his mouth shifting.  Frankie asked, “How are the other viable women going to take it if the daughter of a traitor is chosen above them?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ben said, defensive of Pope. His loyalty to Santiago went above everything. “If she’s the right person, she’s chosen divinely.”

Santiago held up a hand, stopping another argument. “A redemption. She has the option to purify herself from the sins of her father through the pain of childbirth.”

“Biblical precedent…” Will murmured in agreement.

“And if she fails to produce a child, then we can say we were deceived-”

“Like Eve deceived Adam. Damn, Pope, I think it’s a winner.”

Santiago smiled at his fellow leader, clasping his hands together. “Alright, let’s go visit her, make sure she’s suitable.”

*

You were dead. It was over. Lydia had cleared all the other women out of the dormitory room and told you that the Pope and the other divine leaders would be coming to speak privately to you and you assumed that you had slipped up somehow and it was the end for you. You didn’t know what you possibly could have done. You never ever spoke badly about anyone, none the less your beloved leaders! You adored them all, worshipped them as they deserved, as you had Divine Mother…

Had they decided you were too much of a liability after what your father had done? How was that possible, it had been a decade… why now…

You gasp. Fransisco… he was clairvoyant… had he seen into your dream? Had he seen what you saw oh-so often, the dreams that forced you awake crying?

You prepared yourself to grovel, to beg for mercy, to plead that these dreams of fire were not what you wanted, that they tormented you. Would you forever be labeled a traitor for what your father had done? Hadn’t you proved your loyalty to The Delta?

The door opened and you dropped to your knees, silent until spoken too. You can hear Benjamin whisper a damn. The floor creaks in front of where you knelt, arms prostrated out and for a moment, everything stood still. Warm hands were on your chin, guiding you up to see him.

He was so much more stunning up close. You’d heard tales from other girls of the men, of the way they bedded them, how it was glorious, the most holy form of worship to allow them inside you… You had taken note that you had not been allowed that honor, you had accepted it as the punishment for the sins of your birth, you never thought you’d be worthy of close contact, but right now… Pope was touching your face, your chin tucked between his thumb and forefinger; his eyes were so close to yours, his plump lips keep a soft smile. “Do not be afraid, darling girl. If we are correct, you may outshine us all.”

*

“But it is, of course, your choice.”

Your choice…

This phrase was preceded by the reminder that if you said no, there would be no savior.

There was no choice.

“I am a servant to my lords.”

Santiago smiled at that. “Excellent. Now, let’s begin the inspection.”

The what?

“Oh… is it… I swear I am a virgin, I’ve never been touched-”

“I know.” Francisco said. Oh, right. Clairvoyant. “We need to make sure you’re… healthy.”

“Oh. Yes, of course then.”

Francisco undressed you, his calm demeanor and soothing touch eased you as he slowly stripped you of your clothing. He pulled the loose shirt over your body as you raised your hands, the pail bra underneath had a lot of coverage (everything was meant to be practical) but you still felt exposed.

“Just down to her underwear, Francisco.” Will instructed as he watched. Will was a healer, that was his gift.

Francisco pulled down your pants slowly, and you feel eyes scaling you.

“Strip her down fully, Frank.” Ben tells Francisco, and you jolt when you feel his hands on the bare skin on your hips.

Francisco sighs, but Will puts his foot down. “She doesn’t need to be naked, this is invasive enough as it is”

Ben gave a short laugh. “More invasive than fucking her.”

“BEN!” All three of them shouted, discomfort and fears coursing through your body.

“Pope, she’s shaking.” Francisco asserts with his hands on your shoulders and you watch Pope give Ben a look.

“You behave, your brother knows what he’s doing.” He turns to Will, jerking his head at you. “Handle it.”

Will approaches you, his hands on your face. He holds you different than Pope, more firm, more all-encompassing. Will’s hands were larger, and he placed them at the side of your head, like he was holding you together. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s like a medical examination, okay?”

You nod within his grasp. “Okay.”

He smiled at you. “Good girl. I’m going to touch you, just stand there and take it. Trust me.”

You did. You’d follow him anywhere if he spoke like that. His hands move down your neck, slowly over your shoulders and down your arms, sending a chill through your body. He squeezed your hands. “Doing so good princess. Gonna check your backside now, can you straighten up for me?” You square your shoulders as he walks around, towering over you. You lock eyes with Ben; he looks hungry, like he’s ready to pounce but smiling at you with his boyish charm you can’t help wonder what that pounce would feel like. Ben had slept with almost every girl in your dormitory, and you’d been privy to all kinds of colorful descriptions as you overheard girls talking. Not to you. Never to you.

Will rubbed his hands together and breathed on them to aid the warmth before placing his fingertips at the top-most part of your back. Slowly, he dragged 8 fingers down, applying pressure, sending a tingling down your spine as his fingers traced it. “Excellent posture, just need to check a few things.” His hands went back up, fingers bracing at your sides as his thumbs searched certain spots, rubbing over aching parts of you with pressure, but not pain.

“Got a few knots.” Will comment’s, and you turn slight back towards him, suddenly scared.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, no. Nothing to worry about. Just means you’re stressed. It hurt there sometimes?”

He continued massaging you, your next words coming out with a moan. “Yeah.”

“I know it does, sweet girl. Don’t you worry, I’ll help you take care of that. You will be my wife, after all.”

The thought brings a small smile to your face. The smile falters when his hands wrap around your front, William’s body pressed up against your back. His hands are pressing into your stomach, making their way up until he cups your breast, a small groan escaping his mouth that had somehow found its way into your hair.

“She likes that.” You here Ben say, drawing your attention, his grin made you swell with pride. You’d spoken with him before; Benjamin knew all the women. Still, he never chose you to bed and you had thought you weren’t appealing but now, now you see it. Now, as Ben began to touch himself over his pants as he watched his brother examine your body, you realize you were meant for a higher purpose. You were being saved, protected, put on a pedestal for this moment, to be the mother of their child, to be their Madonna.

Will continued him ministrations, soft grunts as he ground his hips into your ass. You can se his eyes are locked in with Pope. Pope, is watching the scene with hooded eyes and parted lips. With a soft but powerful moan, Will stilled behind you, panting a soft kiss on your neck before his fingertips trails your panty line. “Now, for the vaginal exam.”

All the pleasure you felt stops, your body freezing up again. “B-but, you said I wouldn’t-”

William turned you around to face him. “I have to check out your privates, gotta make sure you’re safe. It’s just me, it’s just external, don’t worry. We’ll face away.” He knelt down.

You were acutely aware your ass was still out for the other men when you heard Ben groan when your underwear is pulled down, the distinct sound of him summoning Francisco, who had been quiet so far, and the unzipping of pants.

“Goddamn…” He says, notching your legs so they spread and lifting one foot so it is resting on his bent knee. He touched your sensitive skin. “Pope, you gotta see this… the girls wet.”

“But-” I wanted to protest that he had said it would only be him, but there was no point. Soon, you’d be married, and they be able to have you as much as they wanted.

“Holy shit, she’s dripping…” Pope marvels as the slick running down your thighs.

Will continues prodding at you, fingers running through your glistening folds. In the background was a sound you couldn’t quiet pinpoint, and something that sounded like kissing, but who would be kissing? There was only Ben and Francisco there. Will dips his finger slightly inside your hole, making you gasp.

“Careful.” Pope warned. “She needs to stay intact.”

“I know.” Will groans. “But she’s so fucking tight, Pope.”

A muffled but strong groan behind you, and Pope looks like he’s about to fall apart when he pulls away.

“William, Franisco, Ben. Go to Lydia, tell her the wedding will be at her next ovulation.”

The men reluctantly made their exit leaving Pope alone in the room with you. He pulled up your underwear and pants before helping you back into your shirt. “You are perfect.” He grabbed your face again, pinching your chin and guiding you to look up at him. “Pack only personal items. You’ll have new clothing, everything will be taken care of. From now on, as long as you are what we need you to be, whatever you need, you’ll have.”

He leans in and you open your mouth to him, beautifully alluring, gifting him your first kiss and the spark was ignited. He was everything now.

“My Madonna.”

WE'RE LIVE! So excited to do this, I was a little too excited, I didn't wait until january like i said lol. After this I'm gonna try and finish Blessed be the Fruit and Awakening before going forward which shouldnt be long

PLEEAASEEEE LMK YOU'RE THOTS AND THEORIES!!!!

Special thanks to my BELOVED @hon3yboy for encouraging me so fucking hard with this series!!! she is so wonderful and has written great work including WEREWOLF MARC SPECTOR!!!!

How to keep up with the story!

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[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Congrats on 1200!🥳

I have a prompt for a scene for you!

The Starcourt Mall's parking is one of Eddie's prime places for dealing. One night during a deal, he spots a tired boy in a sailor suit leave the mall and what ensues is a quiet obsession.

Eddie intentionally starts parking his van close to Steve's car until he works up the courage to offer Steve a smoke on a night he looks particulary wound up.

Ahhhh! I just finished this, Idk if this is what you had in mind but I really enjoyed writing this :) I'm realizing I kind of really like answering requests 😂

Eddie’s work schedule was typically very flexible. Some days he would be in the alley behind the local theater. Others he would be at the picnic table. Today was a newer spot, the mall parking lot.

His metal lunch pal was sitting next to him as he constantly eyes the crowd shifting in and out from the main doors. Scouting out the kind of people that showed up.

There were the mothers who were bringing their kids to buy new school clothes, even though the first day back was over a month from now. Along with mothers were grandmothers, and younger women coming in for Jazzercise. The final group that Eddie noticed, that were most likely going to be his prime target, were the hicks. Those who drove in from the countryside, wearing worn out flannel, snap backs and had mullets that put Billy Ray Cyrus to shame.

There was nothing rednecks loved more than their mullets and moonshine, but weed was slowly catching each and every one of their hearts. Soon enough Eddie was sure he was going to have a small cult following from outside of Hawkins.

Eddie is turning the key in his ignition, preparing to head to his next location when he spots him. A sailor who floated right through the ocean of people with ease. His demeanor was tense, and he seemed uncomfortable. Eddie would to if he were wearing those shorts. Especially if he knew people like himself were staring at him.

Eddie can’t help himself, he stops his foot from stepping on the gas and checks out Popeye the Sailor. Little chest hairs were poking out from where the stripe shirt sagged a bit, and holy fuck was Eddie thankful he decided to park ten feet away from the mall instead of thirty. If he had done that then he wouldn’t be seeing this fine seaman right in front of.

This sailor was only confirming Eddie has a certain type. It was one thing to be attracted to Robin Williams and Harrison Ford on TV. That could be a fluke. However, seeing someone who looked like a mix of both in public and immediately falling head over heels was not.

Let the record show that he, Eddie Munson, was obsessed. Not in a stalker kind of way, but in a way he craved to be closer to the other man and was willing to do anything to achieve that.

Alright, that does sound like stalker behavior.

But Eddie knows that he wouldn't go that far. At most, he would park his car next to the other just to get a better look.

When the sailor looks up and makes eye contact with him, Eddie begins to flounder around. Face a slightly red as he tries to remember what he was doing.

Right, he had to be behind the theater to give Hopper his normal deal.

It was a couple of weeks after the first sighting that Eddie finally talked to Steve. After watching the sailor for a while, learning his name from his name tag, he discovered he had a slight routine. Step out around seven pm for a smoke break, sit on the curve in the designated smoke area and then grab something from his car before moving back inside.

Eddie was not stalking. He was just being observant. He had to be in the parking lot anyway, already having a decent amount of paying customers to tend to.

It was just a “coincidence” that he happened to find a empty spot right next to Steves car for three nights in a row. Nothing more.

It was now the fourth night and Steve was finally coming over to grab something from his car. The last three nights, all surrounding the Fourth of July, had been extremely busy. The other man could barely get five minutes to smoke before someone came out to get him.

Eddie had been disappointed, he really wanted to get a close-up of the man. He of course could go into the mall like any other customer but he had duties to fulfill. Such as giving half of the hicks inside their stash. He tried entering the mall once but was almost immediately stopped by one of his customers. He wanted to be discreet about dealing in the parking lot, that would be difficult if people decided to swarm him for their supply right next to the security guards.

Hicks were never that smart.

Now here he was with an opportunity and he was almost fucking it up. Steve had bent down to search for something from his glove box, his ass poking out from the car as he does. Eddie nearly chokes on the joint in his mouth when he sees freckles trailing down the other man's back and down to his ass.

From where he was sitting, his van being taller then Steve’s car, he could catch a small peak into Steve’s pants each time he moved just right. His pants, which looked extremely tight, didn't leave much to the imagination. They would slide an inch or two down before quickly snapping back up when Steve shimmied his hips just right.

Eddie’s sure his mouth was open.

“Fuck!” Steve curses out loudly, slamming the glove box shut with a loud wham! His hands move up to fidget with his hair, that was no longer covered by his hat. He steps away from the car and continues to curse more, clearly stressed.

“Hey man, you alright?” Eddie asks before he could think. He’s always been impulsive.

Steve jumps startled. Looking up to meet Eddie's gaze, his eyes were wide and a little glossy. As if he were close to tears.

“Yeah—yeah. I just forgot my meds.” Steve admits, slowly cooling off. Probably for show as he slams the passenger door shut, still clearly upset even though he was trying to hide it.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows concerned. There wasn't much he could do to help, he felt useless.

“Well uh… do you need a fag?” Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow, already having his pack of Marlboro out the window and open.

His use of the word held a double meaning, but he doubted Steve would catch on. It was just an inside joke with himself. A play on words.

Steve’s eyes flicker between the cigarettes and Eddie before he reaches forward and snatches one. Moving his hands in his pants pockets causing them to pull down slightly and reveal more of his happy trail. Eddie has to hold back from physically gulping like a cartoon character.

Steve doesn't notice. He lights his smoke with the lighter he pulled out and sucks the smoke into his mouth, his lips a soft pink. His checks slightly pull in and Eddie has way too many suggestive images pop up. His brain is blue screening when Steve flutters his eyes open to look back up at him, his eyelashes dragging beautifully against his cheek bone.

“So, when are you going to make your guest appearance in Scoops, Munson?” Steves's voice is light, teasing. His body moves forward, purposely leaning up against the van door, his shirt pulling down to give Eddie the perfect view of his hairy chest.

“Oh um— I uh— I don't know.” Eddie stammers over his words. His face is a light pink as he tries to discreetly flicker his eyes between Steves's eyes, lips, and chest. He doesn't know how he was going to make it out of this encounter alive.

“Hm- should swing by sometime.” Steve comments, carefully taking another drag from the Marlboro. He releases the smoke from his mouth to meet what was already in Eddie’s van.

“Could give you a discount, or a free scoop to repay you for this,” Steve suggests, carefully showing his fingers that were wrapped around the stick.

God did Eddie wish he could be in its place.

“Oh- I uh.. Don't care. I sort of have to stay out here though. Business you know?” Eddie isn't sure he is even understandable.

Steve’s eyes pinch together with what may be disappointment. It only lasts for a few minutes before he sparks back up.

“Ok- what are your doing after the mall closes?” he asks. He looked like an excited puppy.

“Nothing, just heading home.” Eddie answers truthfully, watching as Steve’s eyes do that thing again before they look around to make sure no one was listening.

“Well, if you're still out here— I could possibly sneak you in to choose your flavor?” Steve suggests. Eddie thinks he might be hinting at something more.

“Oh — yeah, I'll be here.” Eddie stutters out, Blushing as Steve carefully lifts the cigarette from his own mouth up to Eddie’s. A teasing look in his eyes as Eddie carefully wraps his lips around it without thinking.

“Well- see you then.” Steve grins, stepping down from his tip toes as he walks away from the van with purpose. Hips swaying back and forth in a way that makes his shorts pull up to reveal a little more.

If Eddie didn't know better, he thinks Steve was doing it on purpose for him.

If anyone else has any requests, my asks are open :)

[creature-wizard]

I just read Unwelcome Ozian's "Rules of Programming," and Oh Boy.

For those who don't know, Unwelcome Ozian is a conspiracy theorist on Tumblr who purports himself as a kind of guide for people who believe themselves to be programmed multiples - that is, people with deliberately-induced dissociative identity disorder, with alters carefully programmed for specific purposes by means of brutal torture methods. His claims are largely based on the work of Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler, two far-right conspiracy theorists who spun this whole mythology about an ancient satanic cult that uses torture to put people under what they referred to as "trauma-based mind control," or TBMC. (They also claimed that the fight for gay rights was part of the plan to enthrone the Antichrist in the year 2000, and that Al Gore carried around a briefcase full of blood to drink. That's the level of credibility they're on.)

There have also been a number of abuse allegations (including allegations of sexual abuse) against Unwelcome Ozian from those who came to him for help, so yeah. Also, he really hates Svali (another conspiracy theorist working from Springmeier and Wheeler's mythos) for some reason.

Rules of Programming effectively distills a lot of the stuff you find in the works of Springmeier and Wheeler, with the addition of some actual scholarly concepts/research plus some pop-psychology/pop-self help style lists of things programmers supposedly do to their victims. (A lot of the things it talks about are just regular forms of authoritarian abuse, gaslighting, scapegoating, etc. In fact, some of them even appear to be copied from Internet articles.)

Essentially, this book is yet another modern witch finder's manual, giving anyone who wants to find diabolical witches a set of unfalsifiable criteria that will always appear to confirm their presence. Like the work of Springmeier and Wheeler, its descriptions of torture are just evocative enough to play on the imaginations of people who may not be in the best mental shape and fuel the creation of confabulated memories. (Some of which may very well be mingling with memories of real abuse.)

Oh, and just to be clear, we do have very clear cases of confabulated memories - you can see them for yourself here and here. If you don't want to click the links, the tl;dr is that the New Age movement is chock full of people who very vividly "remember" past lives in pseudohistorical settings and locations that never existed, and some of these "memories" are quite vivid and disturbing.

So, here's some notable stuff from this book:

Marijuana is supposedly contraindicated for programming purposes. (This claim was made by Springmeier and Wheeler in How The Illuminati Creates A Total Undetectable Mind Controlled Slave, but it goes back to Cathy O'Brien and Mark Philips.)

Victims are allegedly given types of programming such as heart of stone programming and color, gem, and flower programming. (These were first described by Springmeier and Wheeler in They Know Not What They Do: Illustrated Guide To Illuminati Mind Control.)

Handlers must allegedly present themselves as omnipotent and god-like to victims. But they may also manipulate their victims by threatening suicide. (These two things really don't go together, especially if the cult as hardass as it's claimed to be.)

Alleged behavior of programmers - "Teach children self-betrayal, i.e. show gratitude and humility for punishments and insults." This is literally just how authoritarian Christian parents expect you to behave when punished. (Again, most of the things programmers supposedly do are just things that regular abusers do, period.)

He talks about practices such as anchoring and future pacing, which are described by Springmeier and Wheeler in How The Illuminati Create A Total Undetectable Mind Controlled Slave.

Direct quote, "For example if a programmer builds a system using the planets of the solar system there will be alters with planet names, and space terminology used." Compare with "In recent years, these have been solar systems, galaxies, and planets, because they have gone to Star Trek, Star Wars, Alien types of programming" from How The Illuminati Create A Total Undetectable Mind Controlled Slave. Again, it's the same mythology.

He claims epsilon programming is used to create animal alters and describes how they're allegedly created. The stuff he describes can be found in How The Illuminati Create A Total Undetectable Mind Controlled Slave.

He lists off a bunch of stuff that's supposedly trauma-based mind control spiritual abuse. In reality, it's just regular spiritual abuse - for example, "the programmer/handler is in a ‘divine’ position," "misuse of scripture to control behaviour," and "appeal to the work of evil spirits as explanations for the child’s behaviour."

About that last one? A very similar line appears in the article Part 2: The characteristics of spiritual abuse: "Appeal to the work of evil spirits as explanations for the victim’s accusations or behaviour." The earliest archived version of this page is from 2017. The Rules of Programming was published in May of 2023.

The book's text on cultivating a trauma bond includes several items that appear to be slightly reworded text from Dr. Joseph M Carver's article Love and Stockholm Syndrome: The Mystery of Loving an Abuser (first archived on the Wayback Machine in 2015). For example, "The presence of a perceived small kindness from the handler to the child" (RoP)/"The presence of a perceived small kindness from the abuser to the victim" (Carver).

The book's text "Seeking/finding pleasure in the presence of extreme danger, violence, risk or shame" is also found in the article Impact on Abused Persons, which cites a 1997 book, The Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships.

A bunch of stuff associated with toxic relationships are rephrased as stuff associated with being a victim of TBMC.

The book claims that some "programmed responses" might be "They are only like that because they love me," "You wouldn’t understand," "They will make it up to me later," and "It’s my fault, I make them angry." This text can be found in the 2021 article, The Misconception of Trauma Bonding.

The book lists some benefits of playing chess (for example, "Playing chess can improve cognitive skills like memory, planning, and problem-solving") that appear verbatim in the Healthline article The 9 Best Benefits of Playing Chess.

Some text (for example, "Trauma can shut down episodic memory and fragment the sequence of events") appears to have been copied from the 2017 infographic, How Trauma Impacts Four Different Types of Memory.

Material from changingminds.org appears to have been copied into this book. For example, the text "Agreement over rules typically starts with generalised rules with which it is hard to disagree" can also be found on the page titled Confession, with the slight difference that "generalised" is spelled with a Z. (Its earliest archived version dates to 2004.)

The book claims, "Torture involving states of extreme pain and terror, to the point of near-death, is required to install programming." This inadvertently reveals the absurdity of the alter programming conspiracy theory, because in the real world millions of abusers and cult leaders manipulate and control people with far less dramatic methods every day. Even if alter programming was a real thing, it would be so pointlessly overcomplicated that you'd have to ask yourself why so many people would bother with it.

The book describes a number of abuses and tortures that pretty obviously stem back to European witch panic, including "desecration of Judeo-Christian beliefs and forms of worship," taboo sex, ritual cannibalism, and dedication to Satan.

The book includes the "Steps on Obedience," which are found in Svali's older writings. Additionally, some of the text seems to be copied from Svali's old writing with minor modification. For example, The Rules of Programming says, "The part/alter is placed in a room without any sensory stimulus. The room will have grey, white, or beige walls. The programmer leaves the part/alter alone for specified lengths of time: these times may vary from hours (2-3) (3-5), to days as the child grows older." Compare with Svali: "The small toddler/child is placed in a room without any sensory stimulus, usually a training room with gray, white, or beige walls. The adult leaves and the child is left alone, for periods of time: these may vary from hours, to an entire day as the child grows older."

The book gives a list of supposed secret meanings to perfectly normal hand gestures, which is very obviously sourced from How The Illuminati Create A Total Undetectable Mind Controlled Slave. (RoP: "Hands locked folded interwoven backward - - you can’t break “the circle”". HTICATUMS: "Hands locked folded interwoven backward--you can’t break "the circle"")

The book claims that programmers will write down detailed documentation after each programming session, describing exactly how the session went and what should be done at the next session. Additionally, block reports are supposedly written every four weeks, which summarize the whole thing. This is noteworthy because if this conspiracy theory was actually true, this type of documentation would have come to light at some point by now. The fact that is has never turned up in all of the years alter programming has allegedly been practiced (since the mid-20th century or since ancient times, depending on who you ask) is incredibly damning.

(Break here because this list is reaching Tumblr's text block limit.)

Some text (for example, "A Place in the World. One never need 'find' his or her place because in fact that type of autonomy is not allowed! There is often a false egalitarianism which disguises competition" and "Mystical Manipulation. False origin stories or very selective accounts are given about the leader to demonstrate divine authority, spiritual advancement") seems to have been copied from the article Communal Abuse and Cults (earliest archived version: 2017).

Some text (for example, "Change Of Diet: Creating disorientation and increased susceptibility to emotional arousal by depriving the nervous system of necessary nutrients through the use of special diets and/or fasting" and "Hypnosis: Inducing a high state of suggestibility, often thinly disguised as relaxation or meditation") seems to have been copied from Brainwashing & Mind Control Techniques (earliest archived version: 2004).

Some text (for example, "Sins, as defined by the leader, are confessed either to a personal monitor or publicly to the group" and "Sacred Science: The group's doctrine or ideology is considered to be the ultimate truth, beyond all questioning or dispute") appear to be sourced from Robert Jay Lifton's eight criteria of thought reform. (Originally written in 1989.)

The text "Crafty redefinition of existing words (and the definition of new ones) to powerful euphemisms, secret codes, renamings, buzzwords, chants and mantras, ‘speaking in tongues,’ forced silence, even hashtags" may have been sourced from Cultish’s Exploration of Manipulative Language (originally posted in 2021), or from Amanda Montell's book, Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism.

Some text (for example, "The group devoutly believes it will be the ultimate winner of the final battle" and "Lack Of Restraint: Leaders believe themselves to be free from religious and social laws") appears to have been sourced from Doomsday Religious Movements - Canadian Security Intelligence Report (dated December 18, 1999).

The text "Glittering Generalities: These are intense, emotionally appealing words so closely associated with highly valued concepts and beliefs that the appeals are convincing without being supported by fact or reason. The appeals are directed toward such emotions as love of country and home, and desire for peace, freedom, glory, and honour" appears to come from Wikipedia.

"Name-calling: Name-calling seeks to arouse prejudices in an audience" also seems to be derived from Wikipedia.

The book mentions "Being locked in a small confined spot, a pit or cage with spiders and snakes" as a form of torture. This one can be traced back to Michelle Remembers.

The text describing bladder torture in RoP is identical to the text describing it in How The Illuminati Create A Total Undetectable Mind Controlled Slave. I'm not going to post it because it's kinda graphic, but feel free to compare the texts yourself. Just search for the text "urinary bladder."

Basically, most of the alleged tortures and programming methods are very obviously sourced from Springmeier and Wheeler's books, even if they aren't always described with identical text.

A list of tortures in the book include the hell confinement, the Tucker telepohone, the strappado, the Cold Cell, the German Chair, the box, white torture, and the Tiger Bench. Most of these can be found on this Listverse article from 2013, and RoP's descriptions match up with Listverse's.

So basically, we have someone claiming to be a trauma-based mind control survivor, but a lot of his information very obviously comes from other sources. (Now just to be clear - it's not possible to tell whether any of the copied text comes from the actual webpages I linked, or if they were sourced from other pages or books with the same text. But either way, it's obvious he didn't come up with all this stuff on his own.)

I also think the fact that this book includes so many descriptions of actual abusive behaviors and practices makes it all the more insidious. The author effectively links a lot of stuff that actually does happen with the conspiracy theory in such a way that it can all look like it's the exact same thing, making it seem like if you suffered from these real types of abuses, then you may have likely been a victim of alter programming.

But here's the thing - abusers are often just insecure, lazy, and taking their issues out on someone weaker. Sometimes they're just doing what their family did and haven't realized this behavior is toxic. There's no deep or complicated reason behind it, much less some carefully orchestrated design on this level conspiracy theorists propose.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

(hi uh sorry i sent that ask very prematurely on accident could you delete the previous one? sorry i just had to rephrase it-)

i was wondering if you were interested in doing a Sozo x reader fic (GN preferably) where the reader tries to help Sozo kick his mushroom habit (as you have done before but i would really like some more in-depth mental support for ant boy) or at least help him not to lose himself even more. This next part includes spoilers for the Sins of the Flesh update so if you haven't played that feel free to wait or skip this part. I would especially like to see his Dr. Sozonius personality starting to shine through again as he gains more clarity, kinda nerding out on mushroom stuff but also extremely sorry for everything he did while under the influence of the Mushrooms

YEAH SOZO REDEMPTION ARC <3

.....

"I promise...no more shrooms...please.."

"I'm sorry, my dear. I just can't take your word for it." Sighing, you gazed hopelessly at your spouse: the belligerent ant locked up in the pillory for the third straight day now, wondering if this was the right thing to do.

This all started after you returned to Spore Grotto one evening, finding the Mushroomos there in a panic, one of them eventually leading you to the inside of Sozo's "home".

He had succumbed to the infection, as his body was laying there in such a grotesque display, covered in fungi and rotting away. Of course, the followers didn't know what to do and begged you to bring Lamb back here, as they haven't visited this place in a while.

At first you didn't want to, thinking they were the reason he was dead. You assumed he was still giving him mushrooms behind your back when you specifically told them not to do that, explaining how you're trying to get him to stop. You made him promise not to consume anymore.

It had to be Lamb's fault.

But the Mushroomos revealed something quite shocking: since he wasn't getting mushrooms, he turned to eating them all alive to satisfy his needs instead, unable to stop. The parasite that held him hostage demanded it so.

And it ended up killing him.

You grieved for a little while, before seeking out Lamb and asking if they could accompany you to Spore Grotto, explaining what happened. Yet by the time you both returned, there was hardly anything left of Sozo's body.

Nothing except his skeleton, backpack, and the smiling mushroom.

You decided to take the large fungi back to their cult, carrying it as a sort of "ironic" memento of your lover.

During the walk back, Lamb asked you if Sozo had a life before this addiction of his...and you tell them something rather surprising.

He was actually once a brilliant man: Dr. Sozonius. His research on mushrooms was known all throughout the Old Faith. He's written books, lived with family members in an ant colony, and was very wise. You two fell in love through your research and explored Anura together.

Then he brought you to his camp at Spore Grotto, the very heart and soul of Anura's fungal outbreak. He was studying the Mushroomos and their behavior patterns. They were actually very passive and social creatures, offering you two stews of menticide mushrooms.

You declined, having already ate before your journey. But Sozonius--thrilled to discover a new mushroom specimen--decided to indulge in their generosity for the sake of science.

And things haven't been the same since.

Something in that soup took root in his brain and turned him into a shadow of his former self.

He never came back to the colony, or the home you two shared, devoting himself entirely to all things mushroom-related...while that stupid smiling fungi puppeteered him around. Some days you'd visit him, and he does remember you, but as of late he's been forgetting more and more of your lives together, giggling and not taking any of your words seriously.

He tried getting you to bring him mushrooms, eat them, etc. and if you refused, his eyes turned red and he'd start yelling nonsense.

Despite all of this, you never once blamed the Mushroomos. They were only trying to be kind hosts; they didn't expect such an advanced fungi to take control of him and turn him into their "leader".

After he died, most of them dispersed throughout Anura, but some stayed behind in the hope of seeing you again.

Once you finished sharing your story, Lamb was surprised that you wanted to take the fungi back at all. They figured you'd burn it to ashes for what it did to your husband.

Yet....you didn't blame it either.

Mushrooms aren't inherently evil. It's how nature made them, and you're a strong believer in karma, deciding to instead nurture this one in hopes that it may grow into something better.

Who would've known that mentality would bring Sozo back to you a week later?

Unfortunately, as you anticipated, he was still up to his old habits and never fully understood that they killed him. He tore up the mushroom farm plots and ate any Mushroomos Lamb rescued during their crusades.

Least to say..he was being an utter nuisance in the cult. He never did any work, and none of the followers liked him.

But that's not how he really was.

You knew him better than anybody else.

Ultimately you and Lamb realized that you had to break this addiction of his for good, otherwise the cycle will just repeat..and you might lose him all over again.

Talking to him wasn't enough.

He had to go cold turkey.

Sozo got angry when you shielded a Mushroomo from his bloodlust and told them to hide in the temple, accusing you of denying him happiness and saying he'd rather be put back in the ground than look at you--and that's when Lamb locked him up in the pillory while distracted.

As much as his words hurt..you knew it was only the fungi talking, trying to trick you into thinking that's what he was feeling. But you weren't so easily fooled.

You had to starve it out.

Might it kill him, too? There's a good chance. But you had to try.

Ever since getting imprisoned, he's been shouting and begging passing followers to free him all day and all night, the fungi looking more withered as time went on. Even its smile turned upside down.

Lamb tried using the same reeducation techniques they used on dissenters. Yet they weren't quite sure how to help Sozo, as he babbled over their speeches and wanted them to go away.

You offered to take over instead, and while they hesitated..they eventually handed you a copy of one of their gospel books and said they'd pray for his healing.

If anyone could get through to him, it was you.

For a while you've kept a close eye on him, making sure he had food--all of which you cooked yourself in case anyone tried sneaking in mushrooms. He no longer screamed his head off, but he still tried bargaining with you to free him, each plea growing weaker than the last.

By the time the sun went down, most of the followers were heading to their sleeping quarters for the night--although a couple were having some concoctions at the drinkhouse. But they could usually hold their liquor and not get too befuddled, so you weren't worried about them.

Instead you just focused on Sozo..who was already looking tired. Your energy was very much spent, too, although you didn't wanna abandon him.

Alas Lamb had no moon necklaces to spare, and even if they did...they would hesitate to give it to you.

Speaking of whom, you heard their footsteps and glanced over, smiling. "Hello, Lamb."

"You can go rest, [y/n]." They nodded. "I'll watch over him for you."

"...alright." Sighing, you closed the book and looked back at your spouse, placing a hand on his cheek as you kissed the opposite one. "Sweet dreams, Sozo. For what it's worth..I'm blessed you are back on this earth with me. I promise to keep helping you."

"[Y/n]...loves Sozo that much..huh?" He huffed, sleepily opening his eyes, and you were astonished to see that they were no longer red like the eyes of dissenters.

Even so, you weren't letting your hopes get up too high. He still had a long path ahead of him.

"Of course. There's no one I love more than you. I just hope and pray...that you haven't forgotten the love you felt for me."

As you parted from his side and began walking back to the Lamb, you were confused by their dumbfounded expression. "What? Was I supposed to say-?"

"Look." They pointed behind you, and you turned back around, gawking at what you were seeing.

The fungi had completely decayed, falling off Sozo's head into a withering husk in the grass; the smaller fungi buried in his collar died off, too. It didn't cause him any pain, surprisingly enough.

Then you looked directly at his face, noticing signs of him aging rapidly judging by the wrinkles and graying furs of his collar.

But he was still alive.

And he was back to his old self.

"Wh..Where am I? Where is...my family?" His voice was quiet and raspy as he looked around, confused by the wooden contraption he was locked in.

However once he saw your face, he recognized you and smiled, feeling at total ease.

"Oh, my love. You're back."

"I-I never left.." Tears immediately blurred your vision as you rushed to unlock the pillory. "I was here the whole time. I thought you were gone forever..."

"I hope I didn't go too far." He hummed, although he felt an ache in his back from being hunched over for so long and winced. Lamb was quick to fetch him a cane so he could better support himself, but you looped your arm around one of his own to help.

"Thank you, you're very kind.." He gazed at the sheep. "My name is Dr. Sozonius. We were...studying the Mushroomos. Fascinating creatures, they are. Neither plant nor animal. They gave my partner [y/n] and I some menticide mushrooms...and.....that's the last thing I remember.." He frowned slightly.

'Ah..so he doesn't know...' You realized, but you kept your worries pushed down, too happy to care about any of that right now.

"I can't help but feel that I have you to thank for...something." He continued, smiling at Lamb. "You have my loyalty. I will remain here and serve you."

They smiled back and bowed their head respectfully. "Thank you, doctor. Welcome back."

..........

While it was such a relief to see Sozonius' sanity restored, it wasn't too long before he ended up becoming bedridden, his bones too weak to support him anymore.

You realized that the fungi somehow managed to disguise his true age, as Lamb discovered he was actually 100 years old via mindreading--making him the eldest follower in the natural sense.

Now you feared losing him again..just when you finally got him back, and wondered if Lamb could do something to help.

Sure, resurrecting him may be the easiest option, but it would be the most painful for you. They couldn't put you through that, as it would take a few days for them to be ready for the ritual.

Luckily they managed to find a quick solution:

A fountain of youth in the form of a simple egg dish.

After Sozonius ate it, the magical properties somehow reversed the clock, giving him back the energy he needed to help out with cult duties. And you didn't have to worry about losing each other again, as Lamb gifted you two golden skull necklaces as a "belated" wedding gift.

Of course, the ant was ever jubilant about his mushroom studies and continued to pursue them alongside you--in a far more controlled environment, obviously. He was allowed to tend to the plots and observe how their effects impact followers during brainwashing rituals, although he was forbidden from tasting one himself or participating in those..

At least for right now.

Even though it's been about a week since he was "cured", the few Mushroomos that lived on the cult grounds were still fretful upon seeing him, thinking he was going to eat them alive.

The one you defended couldn't believe that he was genuinely sorry and not under the fungi's influence anymore.

They were so terribly scared that Lamb mentioned that they gained a "cowardly" trait, always flinching upon you, them, or Sozonius approaching, begging to be spared from....some nonexistent threat they made up in their head. They tried to please you two how ever they could, yet were easily frightened by him simply breathing around them.

Your husband was confused until you clarified that he ruled over the Mushroomos for a long time, cannibalizing them and making threats should they fail to bring him more mushrooms--but he found it hard to fathom that he'd ever do such a thing and abandon you and his family..

Even so, he felt guilty and hoped to make things right.

.........

It was late at night when you and Sozonius were having some light brews at the drinkhouse, feeling relaxed but not entirely befuddled.

He was rambling about some of his latest discoveries in mycology, and you listened with such a loving gaze in your eyes, smiling so big your face was starting to hurt.

You were so, so grateful he came back to you..and that Lamb could save him.

But one particular Mushroomo, however, arrived in hopes of drinking their worries away...and instead found you two at the counter, disappointed.

They tried to sneak away, although Sozonius spotted them and whistled. "You, Mushroomo! Come sit with us." He offered. "We don't bite."

"Eek! I-I mean, of course Mast---I mean Sozo..I-I mean....urrgh!!" Already they were fumbling over their words, scratching at their mushroom cap and sweating. "S-Sorry, sorry! AH!" They nearly tripped over a rock on their way to the drinkhouse.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, dear?" You glanced at your husband, who just nodded reassuringly.

"It will be fine."

Even as the Mushroomo sat down and took one of the drinks left on the counter, they seemed too anxious to take a sip. Instead their gaze going to you--and Sozonius, especially. "I-I feel like I'm interrupting something.."

"No, you are not. But listen-"

"D-Do you need more 'shrooms for your studies, Sozo?? More menticide-?"

"No, no. Listen. I wanted to...apologize for what I have done to you and your fellow Mushroomos."

"Wha.....y-you do..?"

With a soft sigh, Sozonius grasped both of their hands, and although they squeaked in surprise, they didn't try running off. "I scarcely recall what I did while under the influence of the mushrooms. But...it's no excuse. I treated all of you poorly, ate your friends...and I'm sorry. I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive this old fool."

They meekly nodded. "W-We understand..mast-"

"From this day forward," he cut in gently, "I am no longer your master. You serve the Lamb now. Not me. And that goes for all of you Mushroomos, okay?"

"....yes, doctor." The mushroom creature exhaled a shaky breath, looking utterly relieved to have official freedom from his servitude.

"Good, thank you." Sozonius let go, smiling. "I'm glad you understand. Why don't you go get some rest?"

"I think..I will." They stood up and stared down at their untouched drink, before sliding it back over to you. "You can have this. I...don't feel like I need it anymore."

You nodded, bidding them goodnight as they headed back to their shelter, before gazing at the ant. "Seems you broke their habit, too."

"Well, I am a doctor, after all." He chuckled. "I wanna help whoever I can."

All you did was smile, the two of you sitting in a comfortable silence, finishing your drinks and admiring the golden shrine at the center of the cult grounds.

Finally, everything was as it should be.

[sunnystrollblog]

Hi, it's me again!

The way I opened tumblr and you just slapped me in the face with your last cult leader! Branch post like DANG!!!?

Like, I kinda get it

Siblings relationships can be complicated, especially if there's a big age gap and they barely had time with him before Branch started creating his own personhood, it's almost like there's no affection outside of the barebones and "obligatory" familial love

I can see Floyd just lashing out and teen brain just said "before the baby we were ok, not GOOD but ok" especially since he was the youngest and then had to "stop being a child" so his emotions are mostly directed at the brother he hasn't have for a lot of time, at the "outsider"

JD I could see him being the type of person that compares how fast a kid develops to others or kinda forgets that a baby, a toddler and a teen react different to the same things

bigger families tend to do this "your brother did this better" "x could do it at your age" "it only took a few hrs for x to get it" "it's so easy! If x can do it so can you" totally ignoring the difference in age and personality. it might even fly over his head that Branch is actually developing faster than a lot of them at that age due to the expectations

AaAAAAAhHHH!!! You literally inspired me to continue working on this au so thank you and I’m so glad you got where I was going with the bros dynamics!!

Floyd’s perspective is very skewed because of his age and maturity, before branch came along he could pretend that everything was okay and as long as he stayed in line and did as Jd said everything would work out. But than branch happened and suddenly Floyd had a new responsibility, Floyd wasn’t the baby of the group anymore which meant all of John Dory’s micromanagement went towards branch.

And in some ways that was freeing and in others…, suddenly jd wasn’t just overbearing he was obsessive and Floyd did his best to take the brunt of jd’s behavior trying to shield branch from it. And although he tried his hardest to love branch and give him the affection he deserved he couldn’t just shake the resentment. Thinking ‘if branch never came along would they have been better off’ and all of it simmering just beneath the surface until the night of the band’s break up.

And John Dory…oh boy John Dory. Now obviously he wasn’t always this obsessed with the idea of perfection that’s something his parents instilled in him. And you’re right he does have trouble understanding that different ages react to things differently because when he was a child he was expected to know how to take care of himself and his brothers. So he thinks that they should know how to do that as well. It also doesn’t help jd that his parents never took the time to truly care for him, he basically raised himself until rosiepuff found him and a purple egg in an empty pod with no trace of their parents. Which will do serious damage on a child’s development and how he perceives the world.

Basically brozone’s parents suck and are the reasons everyone’s sad :) also everyone’s dynamic in my au is based off of something like brozone’s parents are inspired by the willoughbys parents! Branch and Floyd’s relationship is inspired on jinx and vi. And poppy, king Peppy, and vi relationship is inspired by adventure time’s relationships like Finn and Marvin, Marceline and hunson abedeer

[nightxcreature]

Fawn Response

Chapter One

Summary: Katie Miller is a small town pastors daughter who’s slowly changing her mind on the church all together, but has no way out. Sam and Dean roll into a service one day looking for information on their congregation and building, but coming face to face with several interactions that cause them to feel like more is going on here than just a simple salt and burn.

Warnings: severe religious trauma, religious services, backwoods Baptist’s doing their best to act holy, cult like behavior.

A/N: ya girl has SEVERE religious trauma and is looking for a way to work through it on top of going to therapy, so you guys get a new series based solely on that, I guess. Also, an OC. 🥳 if this is a trigger for you, please don’t read it. And know that my inbox is always open for you. I love you.

Pairings: eventual Dean Winchester x OC (I love my boy. What can I say.), Platonic!Sam Winchester x OC

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Wails and loud shouts of praise pierce my ears as I sit for the third time today in the dimly lit sanctuary. Sister Lois, her snot covered hanky in hand, flings herself onto the alter in, what some would call, a fit of anguish as she raises a hand to the sky; her husband, Brother Bill, jumps to his feet causing the wooden bench below me to bite uncomfortably into my hamstrings through my long olive skirt. I shift in my seat to alleviate the pain as I force down an eye roll, watching as he strategically races between empty pews.

The smile plastered on my face feels fake as ever when my eyes lock onto two strange men in the back left of the room. Their leather jackets and dirty jeans stand out like a neon sign amongst those of us in our ‘Sunday Best’. I take in their demeanor, slightly uncomfortable and extremely bored, as if they’ve never seen a southern Baptist worship service…and as if they could do to never see one ever again. The smaller of the two, if you can even call him ‘small’, catches my gaze. A smirk slyly appears on his lips when he notices the blush covering my cheeks at being caught staring. He lifts a hand, wiggling his fingers in a wave, and I spin to face my father in the pulpit again, cheeks burning hotly.

Daddy races around the stage, hacking and sweating all while yelling about God’s love and our eternal damnation if we don’t accept it; the hellfire and brimstone of it all. I nod along, trying to bury the grimace on my face behind that tight smile again. The pit of unease in my stomach that used to be confused for conviction is settling deep in my bones as he continues, and I begin to pray for someone, anyone, to come in and make him stop. He eventually slows down, his breathing ragged as he calls for the pianist to come up for altar call, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Glancing back, I catch the eye of the tall blonde again, the smirk on his face long gone as he stares back at me and I can almost see a look of pity in his eyes if I squint hard enough. Daddy makes his way slowly to the back of the church, calling on Brother Bill to release us with the dismissal prayer. While everyone else bows their heads in reverence, my eyes stay locked on the beautiful face in the back. His buddy bows his head, nudging him and nodding aggressively for him to play along but Blondie just shrugs him off; eyes trained steely onto mine.

Brother Bill’s long winded prayer seems about two hours too short when he finally says amen and I have to tear my eyes away from Blondie. I make my rounds, shaking hands and hugging necks like I’m supposed to, when I’m met with the large hand of my staring partner.

“Dean Winchester.” He mumbles, gruffly. His voice is deep and strong, taking me a bit by surprise, but I reach out and shake his hand anyway.

“Katie Miller.” I respond, kindly, “It’s nice to meet you.”

He smiles a tight smile and nods, nudging the man beside him who’s gotten distracted by the plaques around the building telling the story of our small church, “Sammy!”

‘Sammy’ jerks, seemingly surprised by the sudden shift in Dean’s tone until he notices me. I stretch out my hand and mumble my name again as he reaches to awkwardly to return my handshake, “Uh, Sam. Sam Winchester.” He nervously voices, his handshake quick and firm, “We’re journalists for a local newspaper a few towns over, and we thought getting a story on the oldest church in the county would be so interesting. Can you tell me a little more about these plaques? They tell the backstory of the congregation, right?”

I swallow thickly and step around him to point at the first one beside the back window, “Yeah, I can give you the rundown. The plaques are all a little long if you ask me.”

They both chuckle and Dean leans forward, whispering loudly, “The less reading, the better, Sweetheart.” He winks and I can feel my cheeks heating again.

“Uh, yeah. I-I get that.” I stutter out, almost getting lost in those green eyes before I hear a loud cough from my left. Sister Lois is staring me down, nodding her head at the plaque in an effort to get me to move along. I step back from the stranger and practically glue myself to the pew beside me as I continue, “Oh, um, we were founded in 1892. Brother Waylon Barton built this building with a few deacons and their sons, they actually lived in the building in the back, that’s our fellowship hall now. He had a dream to see this place be bigger than life from what I hear, but it never came to fruition in his time.”

“Apparently not in our time either…” Dean mumbles and I can feel Sister Lois’ glare without even seeing her.

I shoot him a warning glance and continue my spill, “The building has been passed down through generations, or at least the title of ‘Pastor’ has. My dad is actually the man himself now.”

The boys look behind me at the vestibule and attempt to send subtle looks toward each other. My interest peaks at that, but before I can question them Sam steps in, “Maybe we can sit down and discuss this more some other time. We’d love to get your take on the church’s reputation.”

I nod and send them both a sweet smile before pointing in the direction of my father, “Yeah. That would be interesting. It was nice meeting you boys.” I answer quickly, turning to head toward the vestibule, “I hope we see you again.”

“Yeah right.” Dean mumbles, causing me to glance back at him with a raised brow. The panicked look on his face tells me he didn’t think I would hear that and he quickly tries to recover, “I just-uh-you didn’t seem to be enjoying yourself today.” He blurts out loudly and my cheeks flush before I’m rushing over to him, quickly looking around to make sure no one was close enough to hear him.

“I was enjoying myself just fine!” I respond loudly to cover my bases, hoping and praying no one starts to notice the change in my demeanor during services. I step closer to the two men before whispering, “You can’t say things like that. If they hear you…if they start to notice, I’ll be in more trouble than I’m going to be in just for talking to you.”

Shock reverberates across their faces, both men glancing toward each other and then back to me before Sam steps closer, towering over me. His voice is low and still as he whispers, “What does that mean?”

I glance quickly around, catching the eye of Sister Lois from her place in her pew. Her bible tucked tightly under her arm and a stern look on her face as she watches my interaction with the two. I step quickly away, placing my hands in front of me defensively, “It was so nice meeting you, boys. Hopefully we’ll see you tomorrow! God bless!” And quickly turn on my heel, speeding down the aisle away from them and feeling Sister Lois’ burning gaze on my back the whole way out.

——————————————————————————

A/N: if you’d like to be added to the Taglist for this little series, let me know! 🫶🏼

[canonizzyhours]

New Year New Vent, and this one's coming in hot.

I genuinely do not understand the obsession behind Izzy, or why he amassed such a cult following out of all the characters in the show. There, I said it.

I am aware that this opinion is somewhat rhetorical. Because, the reason lies in the troublesome fandom trajectory of "let's form a cocoon around the shitty white man and make him the saddest, wettest, poorest little baby boy and turn a blind eye to characters of color and women," so I know there's explanation to be had there, but even still. So much of what people argue makes him so special can be found in so many other characters, and then some.

Wanting prosthetic or physical disability representation? Lucius is right there with his prosthetic finger. Jackie is right there with her fierce prosthetic hand. Ed is right there with his knee brace.

Older queer representation? Broadly gestures to basically every single character, most of which have much more solid and visible representation anyway.

An older man coming into himself and accepting parts of himself he had long been fighting with? Aggressively gestures to our two leads.

A character having to deal with their past and with subsequent trauma? Once again aggressively gesturing to our two leads, but also many other characters, too. Jim had an entire subplot dedicated to them and their trauma in Season One for crying out loud.

A pirate stepping away from the harsher and more violent nature of piracy? Ed is right there, and with a solid character arc at that.

A man dressing in drag? Wee John is right there (and I feel like his performance and look really got eclipsed for the song but that's a whole different rant).

Gender non-conformity, or trans representation? Jim is right there, and I believe one of the writers pointed out how many of Ed's arcs have trans/gnc symbolic ties (Don't even know where the aggressive insistence that Izzy is canonically trans even came from either, but again, whole different rant).

There is just so much goodness and representation to be found in so many characters. They are all so rich and developed and wonderful. In my opinion, that makes it so easy to feel seen and heard, as there are pieces of comfort and visibility to be found in such a wide scope. The show wants us to feel seen in that regard.

Yet, the focus lands on the angsty masc white man once more. I mean, really? Is fandom racism and prejudice really so rife? Again, rhetorical, but it just boggles my mind.

Also, all of this isn't to say that people can't make Izzy their favorite character. Just the "he's the main character" and "he's a victim and no one else" and equivalent behavior is just unfathomable to me. The bullying and the toxic insistence when there are so many other wonderful characters with wonderful arcs is absolutely unfathomable.

It would just be so fun and nice to appreciate him for the character he is, ie an antagonistic presence who is later shaped and swayed by his environment. Putting him in a jar and shaking him around makes sense (big thank you for this space), not whatever we've been left with.

#228.

[stormblessed95]

Thank you for answering my ask Storm. I appreciate it. I am new to tumbler and have not read everything you have posted mainly focussed on the member dynamics in your masterlist. In your recent post you mentioned that the bullying had happened and that’s how I got to know. I believe in the same post or some posts after you said you were willing to engage in respectful discussions and after much diliberation I thought to myself, that it was ok to send that ask. And it was, coz you answered it so respectfully.

Even if I may not agree with you fully, I do see where you are coming from. Your blog is yours to moderate and that is that.

My gripe with this fandom is that a lot of fans do not allow for a difference of opinion which then just means that we are a cult. The boys are not perfect and it should be ok to call out some of the things they do if it is done in a respectful manner. It is really quite something for people to say that there is a need to police fans/solos or Jikook fans because look want happened to Taekookers. It is too late to make that call because now no fan would be able to take the Gandhian stance of looking the other way. History does define how the present is handled. Yes, it is negative approach but it is what it is.

In any fandom, big accounts have a moral responsibility to ensure that the same energy is given in calling out bullshit but a large number of the ot7 accounts are Taekookers so the same energy isn’t given and this is what has resulted in a whole lot of solo accounts who are unnecessarily hated on most of the time.

Thank you again for allowing discourse. I very much appreciate it.

Having a difference of opinion and not allowing anti rhetoric on my blog is not the same thing. And saying "I have these criticisms of Tae and I think that's fair" is fine, but it also doesn't change that it's the same rhetoric that his antis use against him and it's not something I'm interested in entertaining. I truly couldn't care less if people agree with me or not. That's always been the case. Just as it's always been true that I've held that this space is mine and mine alone. Y'all are here only if you want to be lol. You can feel however you want to feel, that doesn't mean I'm entitled to have to do anything about it nor does it mean I have to hold space for it. Which I think is the problem that occurs when you hit over a certain number of followers. I'm not quite sure when that transition happened for me, but sometimes I miss how my blog used to be 2+ years ago 😅😂

I love Tae. I love him so much. I love his bond with the members. I think there are for sure things we can talk about critically there. Just as there are things I think we can talk about critically for each member and for the group as a whole. Do I think now is the time? Probably not with all that is happening with k media and the harassment happening.

Do I think any of those critiques involve their relationships with each other, including how Tae interacts with JK, no. I think their relationship and how it works best for them, is not something we get to interject on. Opinions about that stem from personal biases and often, also anger about antis and the desire to protect other members from said antis.

I also agree that a large number of "OT7" accounts on Twitter don't give the same proper energy to calling out bad behavior because they are taekookers or diet solos/shippers. But then we shouldn't be calling them OT7 accounts, right? I promise there are really good larger accounts out there that aren't full of bullshit. You just gotta use your block button freely. Because not giving fake ot7 a platform, is a good way to start. But it's hard when it seems like no one else cares. I promise I understand that. I understand the frustration and the pain that brings. As someone who deals with haters who feel protected behind an anon label, I feel like I extra understand it sometimes.

Fandom spaces are going to be what you make of them. All types fandom can be full of so much bullshit. You gotta carve out a corner in it that brings you happiness and peace and do what you can that way. Or you aren't going to have any fun. And that's what fandom should be, something that is fun and brings you joy.

Thanks for replying kindly again 💜

[lol-jackles]

https://x.com/NataRomanovaBW/status/1800415674688553408

You have fans!! lol. The whole above thread right til she calls you crazy here:

https://x.com/NataRomanovaBW/status/1800428808186872271

I guess they are ignoring that originally (on production sites) it was listed as filming April 8, 2024 - August 22, 2024.

Do they think you pulled those dates out of your ass? I literally have a screenshot with the working title and everything lol. Just because THEY aren't informed, doesn't mean we aren't.

And they did push back GenV filming (only slightly) after Chance's death so it's possible TB got pushed back as well, but they were originally scheduled to film pretty much concurrently - probably so they can have crossovers, tie together storylines, etc. while they have ALL the cast in one location for shooting vs filming them at different times and calling back cast to film cameos. So more than likely even if TB filming got pushed back as well, they are still probably back right now. These people forget exactly how tightlipped TB filming is (and no, I don't mean no phones on set, they very very clearly have phones on set) and they aren't even really allowed to straight up say they are working on the show or show things from the show.

The huge thing they are ignoring is that maybe the reason Karl is filming something different is because he either isn't in s5 or is in s5 in a limited capacity. His new movie is an Amazon production as well, so they obviously allowed him to do it and the schedules are clearly ok with them.

Of course these are the same people who think SB/Jensen is the star of TB with a whole 12 minutes screentime and now an unconscious cameo in s4!

Link and Link. Everything you say is likely true, regarding why the casts are told to be quiet since their presence (or lack of it) in season 5 could be major spoilers for season 4 when it premiers in 2 days and it's finale on July 18.

Some fans will stalk sets to see if particular actors are seen on set, which will give them clues if the actors' characters live or not in upcoming episodes. Some studios attempt to circumvent these fans by having actors show up on sets as decoys when their characters are actually not in the episode. Games of Thrones were known to apply this tactic, but it's often not used because it cost money to hire and transport decoys.

Anyways, I just posted The Boys S5 film schedule from ProductionList to help AAs stop giving themselves funny aneurysm. AAs and hellers work in organized groups that function like a call-center set up to manipulate the conversation by inundating forums and social media with conspiracy theories that are conveniently not based on fact but feelings.  Perfect for cult leaders like Goob, so he just slid right in as “one of them” and manipulate the conversation with even bigger and wilder conspiracy theories. When even AAs/hellers were doubting Goob's words, he says they’re too dumb to understand what he writes, especially when his writings contradict himself.  So he writes even bigger and wilder conspiracy theories.

Remember kids, your vibe attracts your tribe. There is a very good reason why you never/rarely see such psychotic behavior from Jared's fans.

[icanseethefuture333]

Hello can u general reading on shawn mendes. He last released an album 2020 and canceled his tour in last year. There is much speculation about him joining a cult. There are also rumors that he met his new gf there. But I think they broke up now. Anyway, I hope you can read it because that boy's music had crazy numbers.

A reading on what happened to Shawn Mendes' "it boy" staus + the future of his career

The events leading up to his popularity decreasing

So I don't believe it had anything to do with him being in a cult. I heard "looking in the wrong places" so that could mean pertaining to love or overall opportunities for money. Shawn had a lot of potential for international stardom but his choices were very poor and thus his level of fame plummeted. Past controversies that happened in his youth affected his popularity as well (problematic behavior). His audience did not hesitate to move on after these controversies came to the surface because they did not find Shawn to be anyone of significance yet (meaning he was not like Justin Bieber when it came to superstar status). He could have felt stuck dating someone during this time? Perhaps Camila Cabello with this Queen of Wands. People saw them for who they truly were and did not find them to be a couple that was likeable in anyway. Shawn could have went through depression during this time as well. It took a lot of his confidence away being in the relationship + being exposed for problematic behavior ("what you see is what you get").

The future of his career, will Shawn become popular again?

Lmfao bro is pretty much fucked 😭. This is a mess. So I feel like Shawn will try to work with younger artists or artists that are currently trending to regain his popularity because his popularity was technically almost over half a decade ago. He might even try to resolve things with his previous fans and be like "you know what? you guys were right I was wrong for what I did" and try to come up with a solution. His fans could feel left out in the cold basically and won't be as interested / have a hard time believing Shawn's statement. Shawn could actually go through a period where he is struggling financially. Most of the artists he will try to work with their fans will not support it or say they don't want them to work with him. If Shawn wants to be successful he needs to become an independent artist. He can't act fake about it or else people will dislike him even more. Shawn also can't hop onto other people's success to regain his own popularity. That's not how it works and it will continue to drag himself down. I see that if he has the courage to become an independent artist and come up with a new concept, he could have the potential to attract a new fanbase + a younger audience.

[achenetype]

content warning: graphic violence, drug and alcohol use, slight dubcon if you squint, death, a lot of death actually, vomiting, eating disorders, riko-typical abuse, riko is his own warning, the ravens kind of all love and fuck each other because who else will, self-harm mentions, explicit sex, thoughts of suicide, the riko/reader/kevin situationship is so intense (here's the playlist, btw) , graphic descriptions of injury/surgery, ravens-typical cult/grooming behavior

thinking about the ravens again. this team of athletes bred to be the best of the best, the bloodiest of the bloodiest. the fierce competition for the top spots (and by extension proximity to riko). i know parties in the nest go fucking CRAZY, like i know there’s someone on the team who always has drugs or alcohol and sometimes this well oiled machine of a team likes to lose its shit.

imagining being a walk-on, freshman year. you’d committed to edgar allan university for their pre-medical program, been offered the best scholarship offer of your life, and in your first biology class this boy with sharp cheekbones and a sharper tongue sits down next to you. he asks you for a pencil, which you give him, and he introduces himself as riko moriyama. over the next few weeks, riko convinces you to come to tryouts for the school’s exy team, and because you’re a little starstruck at the thought that riko fucking moriyama wants you anywhere, you agree.

you hadn’t played exy since your sophomore year of high school, but you’re strong. you can run fast. you’re not afraid to fight dirty. the ravens sign you only minutes after you bruise your knuckles punching the mouth guard out of another freshman’s teeth. you hadn’t even gotten settled into your dorm, so moving out and moving into the nest was no big deal.

riko wants every raven to know every other raven, wants to have a network of sleeper cells through the whole school. your team has players from every major, every background. rich kids, poor kids, every ethnicity you could think of. the ravens are all-encompassing. they’re family. they’re everything. you get paired with someone, a sophomore with an easy smile and skin just a shade darker than yours, and you feel amazing for the first time since leaving your hometown.

the first party happens after you win a match against a school from new york city. it’s in the basement of the nest, this long, catacomb-like chamber that the ravens have turned into their own personal den of sin. you barely register a drink being shoved into your hand before your pair partner is dragging you through a sea of people in black and red to a small table in a back corner. he gestures to the powder cut into neat lines on a silver tray, squeezing your hand, and murmurs, “go on.”

the coke burns your nose like you’d inhaled water, but sharper. worse. from across the table, riko grins at you. his hair hangs messily around his face, loose and curly, and you want to lean into his sparkling space and kiss him, but his partner is right there, their arms linked together and his head resting on riko’s shoulder, and the hivemind has been doing its job—everyone knows that riko and kevin are a thing, are exclusive. you don’t stand a chance, especially not as a freshie walk-on.

your partner claps you on the shoulder and whoops. the music is loud enough to drown out what he says, but something shifts in the air. you’re one of them now. one of us. you drink until your vision goes fuzzy and the pounding of your head matches the bass of the music.

you wake up for practice feeling like shit. it shows.

you’re sloppy, aching and hungover, hungry and tired. it’s unacceptable. really, you deserve it when riko slaps you across the face in the middle of the court and sends you back to your dorm. you deserve it when you open the door and see him standing there, see the knife in his hand. you deserve whatever he carves into your back, even though it feels like he’s peeling your skin off. maybe he is. you’d let him do it anyway, would beg for his fingertips to unsheathe you from the body you spent so long trying to hate and hurt and perfect into something unattainable.

you throw up for the first time in months that night. it becomes a habit. eating in the nest is something that one has to dance around carefully. the running joke is that there are two types of ravens: the anorexics, and the bulimics. starve or puke. the result is the same: lean, hollow things that break when you throw them at each other. riko invites you to smoke with him and kevin and jean, the french boy with silver bands around his neat rows of locs, and you pass a pack of american spirit cigarettes between the four of you until you’re dizzy and nic-sick.

you think kevin doesn’t like you that much.

you think it until he drags you into the showers one day after practice and kisses you, mean, like he’s got something to prove and you’re the only person he cares about proving it to. you should have known something wasn’t right, because the press of riko’s body behind you makes you jump out of your skin. he’s got one hand on your neck, turning you to kiss him while kevin mouths at your jaw and collarbones, and one hand under the sleeve of your jersey, tracing over the uniform lines that cover your arm.

he asks you what you use. “box cutter,” you say breathlessly. “i take apart razors or pencil sharpeners when it’s not sharp enough.” you’re not sure why you tell him so easily, or why kevin drops to his knees and licks a stripe up your forearm, his tongue rolling over both your scars and riko’s fingers.

the second party happens a day later. it’s not technically a raven party—it’s a sigma pi frat party, but every sigma pi brother is also a raven, so it’s basically the same thing. you get tipsy, hit a few people’s weed.

you can’t remember when the last time you saw your pair partner was. god, you must be drunk. he was in your room….not today, not yesterday. maybe a few days ago. a week. before practice.

you realize that he didn’t come back with you in the same moment that you realize you’re going to puke.

in the bathroom, you lay on the cold tile and think about what else you’d forgotten, or just been told not to notice. you knew you weren’t the only member of the team to get beaten after a bad play. you remember rubbing ice over jean’s bruises, watching victoria swallow a small white pill dry after meeting riko for a debrief.

you wonder how many layers of makeup are hiding bruises in this house. you think you’d kill yourself if you had to count. you think you might kill yourself anyway.

(no, you won’t. you have no reason to. you’re untouchable. you have good grades. you have family. you have the ravens. you wouldn’t throw that away by cutting too deep or emptying your drug stash into your mouth.)

someone decides to play spin the bottle and kevin’s hand closes around your wrist, drags you into the circle with him and riko and jean, and a junior whose name is something with an m, manuel or martin or mickey. a few other people take spots—victoria, a freshman like you, but she was recruited from a private school in connecticut—alexei, a sophomore backliner whose english was about as good as his passes—a pair of seniors who give you an up-and-down glance as they sit.

you can feel their eyes resting on kevin’s hand clasped around your arm, jean’s shoulder brushing yours. they could burn a hole through you and into the ground with how hard they stare when riko taps your thigh, signaling you to spin the empty wine bottle first.

it lands on jean and the two of you swap spit for around five seconds before he pulls away. you smile at him. he doesn’t return it. something dark and sick curls up in your chest. you think you might puke again, or at least cough up whatever rot has taken root inside of you.

jean spins, kisses victoria, and retreats to find another drink. victoria makes out with alexei for what seems like a frankly embarrassing amount of time. alexei spins, tripping over his words as he does so, and ends up drooling into manuel’s mouth.

manuel’s spin lands on kevin, who accepts a kiss on the cheek before nudging the bottle with his foot so that it points at riko.

watching the two of them feels like watching a pair of animals try to eat each other alive. kevin swings one leg over riko’s lap and riko very unsubtly rolls his hips, leaning in to kiss kevin fast and sharp and hungry.

you’re so hungry. the alcohol swaying like liquid nitrogen in your stomach has done nothing to make you feel full, make you feel satisfied. you just feel empty and sick.

it gets worse when kevin snakes one hand up to yank riko’s hair, moving from kissing his mouth to sucking bruises into his exposed neck. riko tips his head back and laughs. as kevin matches riko’s rhythm, riko reaches around and spins the bottle, one decisive movement

the neck of it points to you. you feel your face heat up. riko inclines his head towards you in silent invitation.

this is a test, you think through the buzz of weed and alcohol.

you take a deep breath and turn to your left, and riko’s lips against yours feel like lightning. you can feel kevin still mouthing at riko’s neck next to you, the movement of his hips stuttering as riko thumbs over your cheek and lets his tongue slide against yours. “cmere,” he murmurs. “stop holding back.”

you’re not sure what makes you bold enough to catch his lip between your teeth and bite, but the little gasp that comes from riko is indication that you’ve done something right. you kiss him deeper, messier, spit slicking both of your mouths before pulling away.

there’s blood dripping from riko’s lips and you’re satisfied in a sick, wobbling way. kevin separates his face from the crook of riko’s neck to stare at you.

silent invitation. silent test. everything the ravens do is unspoken. you’d think the entire team had some kind of telepathy.

you end up pressed between them. you’re dizzy—the world sways in time with riko’s hand on your thigh, kevin’s mouth between his legs. everything slows to a crystallizing point. riko laughs as he guides you and kevin together, watching the two of you kiss, watching the desperate movement of the two of you against each other.

riko laughs and it sounds like bells. riko laughs and everything is perfect. the bass of whatever song is playing is pounding in your ears, muffled by the door that you're not sure if anyone locked.

when you wake up the next morning, you feel dead. you wish you were when you roll over and see kevin and riko in bed next to you, fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces.

you decide to go for a run before your morning practice, tugging on your shoes and jacket quietly so that neither of them wake up. your feet thud against the pavement as you turn around one corner of the school.

your legs burn. the hickeys on your thighs and chest burn with them, dull flickers of pain that remind you with every breath of riko’s mouth and kevin’s hands.

you’re early to practice that day. and the day after that. you climb the ranks, taking #10 and then #8 and finally, finally, settling on #6. you're second-string, which means you get to play almost every game because red cards are beautiful and impermanent and fold in half like the hinge of a door opening. you are real. you are exactly where you are meant to be.

winter break comes and the ravens are taking a team trip to the southern exy banquet. raise morale, get closer. all that. you lie to your parents and say you’re road tripping with your friends, which isn’t technically false, but it’s not true either. you fall asleep on the bus, your head resting on kevin’s shoulder.

it’s the safest you feel for a long time.

"team trip" turns out to be a rather misleading way to say "working our athletes until they pass out or die." you scream the first time someone collapses during sprints. you cover your mouth with your hand when a forty-pound weight caves in someone's chest and you can see the splinters of their ribs. as a pre-medical student, you end up treating those who survive.

by the time kevin comes to you, shaking and mute with his hand cradled close to his chest, you don't flinch. you memorize the position of the bones: carpals, metacarpals, phalanges. you memorize the look on kevin's face when you walk him to the hotel room of another team's coach after rearranging the bones and tendons of his hand to make the damage look half unintentional.

you memorize the lie riko tells you to tell everyone else. skiing accident. too fast. accident. accident. not on purpose. accident, meaning no one's fault, meaning avoidable, meaning, meaning, meaning.

(when kevin is gone and the rest of the team is on the bus back to west virginia, riko tells you the truth. he tells you between kisses that he didn't ask for but you give anyways. he tells you if you breathe a word i'll fucking kill you in low, guttural japanese, the language you'd been learning to talk only to him and kevin.

you nod, and quietly tell him nani mo iimasen. you won't say a thing.)

[queer-froggit]

since it's the twins' birthday, i decided to talk about how much i love dreamtale with religious imagery. because i love dreamtale with religious imagery.

Nightmare is seen as a demon for his behaviors and title, which are both things he can't control. he's quiet, keeps to himself, and would rather observe and teach himself to learn new information. which is so unusual, because he doesn't seem to care about the village's religious and societal expectations and views, instead just living life the way he wants to.

it's so taboo to them, to not care about the very thing they've built their whole lives upon. it's scary. so it must be because he's a guardian of negativity. yes, that's it- it's in his nature. he's the complete opposite of Dream, who's so friendly and outgoing towards the villagers, which they see as a good thing. so, if Dream is an angel, then Nightmare is a demon.

and so they slowly pull the two away from each other. they demand that Dream do more and more work- they know he'll do it, he's an angel, he'll do what they think is right- not just for their own sastifaction, but for control over the twins. if Dream spends too much time around Nightmare, he might corrupt. that would never happen, of course- Dream is heaven-sent and pure. but the farther away he is from that demon, the closer he is to that image- the closer the villagers are to god.

then the incident happens.

Nightmare was getting older, and the fear the village felt towards him was growing. the older he was, the smarter he was, which meant he was more powerful. what fo he used that power against them? they couldn't have that happening.

but the riot went wrong- Nightmare ate the apple, and what they tried so desperately to avoid finally occured. Nightmare had become a demon.

it was horrifying to them. they didn't know what to do, they could only watch as he took their lives away from them. Nightmare wasn't under their control anymore. he was stronger.

from there, he spends his whole life embracing that power. not just the corruption's power, no, but the power that comes from being free. free from the chruch's expectations, free from society's restrictions, free from the constant fear of the villagers, free from the fear of god.

because, to him, he is god. he is the savior who died so man could live in peace, who would come down from heaven to live among them. he may not have died, but he was reborn, taking a new body in the form of his corruption. the apple saved him, he feels peaceful under its control with its power, and now, he can spread that torment peace with others.

which is why i love the interpretation that the Bad Sanses are a cult. Nightmare sees himself as a savior because he embraced being a monster, embraced being a demon. he thinks telling them to do the same will bring them into a state of total fufillment and euphoria.

but it doesn't. it only makes their lives worse. Horror becomes even more self-deprecating, believing that he's gotten to a point where he can't go back to who he was before, as he's lost all his sanity and morality. Dust is transported to a state of eternal psychological torment, where he lives in the fantasy that Nightmare's lies are true, that he's the hero who did the right thing, while him brother screams at him to wake up.

and Killer... Killer is special to Nightmare. his "most successful project", if you will.

Killer was already messed up before he joined Nightmare. simply wandering around his au of dust, longing for something new. until Nightmare came to him and offered a promise, a promise to give him that sensation until he was laid to rest. the only thing Nightmare needed in return was Killer's worship and loyalty, and considering Killer had already been dealing with Chara, that seemed like an easy deal to him.

and boy, did Nightmare give Killer something new to feel.

the constant threat of having the very culmation of his being warped into disassociation, purely for Nightmare's sense of control. the constant conditioning and abuse he normalizes due to his god's romanticization, all for Nightmare's entertainment.

and the biggest of them all- the dreading fear of not pleasuring his god enough, to where Nightmare has no choice but to crank up the dial, and break Killer into pieces just to put him back together into his twisted and sick divine and perfect image.

because Nightmare's foundation, like the villagers, is built on fear. he can't understand Killer, he can't understand mortals- he can't understand god.

so he'll make sure that each of them is the one afraid of him.