#infections affect behavior

[mlleshopping]

You’re brave! You’re bold! You’re infected! #nature #microbes — Kate's Science - Real and Fantastic

There’s a microbe that cycles through the guts of cats and meat of mice. It accomplishes this by causing the mice to become too bold for their own good, so they get eaten. But mice aren’t the only animals affected. Humans are too. Between 9% and 60% of people are infected, varying by location, and […] You’re brave! You’re bold! You’re infected! #nature #microbes — Kate’s Science – Real and…

[chronosbled]

"oh. what is with the... new look?" ( she's curious she's curious !! )

☣ — Oh, how he wished he had seen the side effects that would come with succumbing to so many experiments. If only he had been smart enough, had been confident enough to go against his grandfather's wishes. If only had hadn't been so terrified to do anything that would get him thrown right back into that dark, horror inducing darkness. Perhaps he could have been able to prevent such an unfavorable outcome? Perhaps he wouldn't have to hide himself away from all the people he once called his friends and family out of fear for what they'd say, what they'd do, what they'd end up finding out about him that he had tried to hide for so long. His body had been suffering for years, yes, he'd known that much... but for him to discover that his body would change for the worse within the span of a few years? It was more than he could stand.

☣ — Hair that was once as black as the darkness he'd been forced to endure was now as pure as freshly fallen snow, royal blue irises once as deep and mysterious as the darkest depths of the ocean were now as bright and clear as the ice from the glaciers of Alaska. Even his once somewhat pale skin had become even paler, making him look almost akin to a walking corpse. Just like all the ones he'd seen since childhood. He was going to end up looking just like them. Being just like like them.

☣ — No. No. Nonononononono. He couldn't be like them. He couldn't be just like them. He couldn't be. He just couldn't. Hecouldn'thecouldn'thecouldn'thecouldn't— HE CAN'T BECOME ONE OF THEM!

☣ — Strands the color of pure untainted snow bounce ever so slightly as he turns to face the other, mind mulling over the question that he had been asked, an intense burning sensation welling within his very being as if his entire body had been lit ablaze — being forced to acknowledge his sudden drastic change in appearance... it was more than he was prepared for, but he chooses to keep his usual smile present — ice blue irises slowly coming to a close before placing a singular hand against the back of his neck, fingers appearing as if he was lightly rubbing the tender skin (when in actuality he was digging his nails into the flesh).

☣ — "Ahaha, do you like it~? I was thinking of giving something new a try." A lie. Everything that had come out of his mouth in that moment was nothing but one big lie fabricated in order to keep the other from worrying, in order to keep himself from having to admit his suffering aloud. He couldn't bare to tell her something like that. He had made her a promise, after all. This might forsake that promise. "What do you think? Do you like it? Think I should keep it this way from now on~?

[ooffmlsorry]

OP Men When You're Injured

Context: I don't mean mortally injured, I'm talking something not too serious that kind of inhibits your movement like a broken bone or recovery from a surgery

Law, Kid, Ace, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Law

A/N: can we get a little commotion for this gif tho?? Why is he so perfect?? 😭

Law as a doctor is perfectly normal about your injury. He knows with some rest and eventual rehabilitation you'll be just fine. No big deal.

He makes sure you're healing well and comfortable, like he would with any patient

Law as your boyfriend is different.

In the case of an injury with no risk of infection, he'll press a kiss to it. Yes, like he's kissing your boo-boo 🥹

Law does not leave your side. He is your shadow. Where you go, he's right beside you or at the very least in the same room as you.

At first he deadass tries to convince you he's not lingering at all and he's the same as he always is.

But you both know he's lying. He practically moves his office wherever you decide to be for the day.

He can't help himself. What if you fall? What if you reinjure yourself? He's so pressed about the worst case scenarios, and given his past, can you blame him?

He quietly grumbles and pouts about his own "irrational" behavior because he knows in reality you can absolutely go about your day. You're a little slower but you're fine. But he just can't let you. As soon as you start to struggle, he's right beside you offering to help.

If you're aggravated by his hovering, he's twice as annoyed by it. He's literally so frustrated with himself lmao, you might end up having to comfort him instead.

Even if he complains (is it really complaining if he's actually happy lol) you're happy because all this extra time around you makes him extra affectionate. Law snuggles close to you, justifying his closeness by explaining how physical affection can lower cortisol levels.

KID

Oh Kid smh 😔he has no idea how to treat you so he just decides to behave like everything's normal lmao

Legitimately though, even if a inanimate object is what caused your injury, he's destroying it. Just out of pure fury that you were hurt.

He'll huff when you fall behind or have trouble doing something, but he just can't leave you to suffer

He's a man of action lol so he'll probably end up doing things for you just for efficiency sake. You're walking too slow? He picks you up. Can't grab or hold something? He'll do the whole thing for you and next time you try to do the same thing you find he's made something to make it a lot easier for you while you heal.

Anything you need to assist you he'll happily build.

If you have a cast or anything like that, he's gonna draw all over it (honestly, the whole crew will. You're gonna have the most bad ass cast ever)

He absolutely calls you a baby for wincing or complaining. He doesn't mean it...mostly.

If he's not keeping an eye on you than Killer is.

It's not like he's worried or anything! Fuck you for saying that!! He just doesn't want to hear or see you whining and complaining. It's annoying. Okay, sure Kid.

He genuinely hate seeing you in pain though, even if it's just wincing it reminds him of losing his arm and he never wants you to experience anything close to that.

ACE

Ace is your little emotional support boyfriend...or maybe it's the other way around 🤭.

He'll curl up at your side while you recuperate and completely dozes off.

He takes looking after you very seriously and asks Marco lots of questions, even if there's not a whole lot he can do.

He doesn't pity you, but he does feel really bad. Even if it was just an accident, he hates seeing you limited in any way.

He might accidentally treat you like you're made of glass.

It's just because he cares a lot, and he really doesn't want anything else to happen to you.

Every single morning he wakes up and asks how you're feeling or if you're in any pain.

There's a lot of people on the Moby Dick and accidents happen all the time, so don't be surprised when he literally clears a way for you to traverse around the ship.

I'm not saying he's impatient buuuut he will definitely glare at whatever part of you is injured and say, "Jeez, can you heal up already?"

He gives you space, but only if you ask for it. He just doesn't want you to feel like you're ever in this alone.

LUFFY

Luffy is neither patient nor gentle lol but he's extremely loyal

He'll goof off and continue to go on adventures, but he's not gone for long

Even his crew is surprised when tells them he's not going to get distracted because he knows you're back on the Sunny waiting for them.

He's always bringing cool things back to you since you can't do as much as you usually can. Just because you can't be right beside him doesn't mean you have to miss everything.

God bless him he's gonna try to bring you some meat so you'll heal faster 🤭.

He'll absolutely forget you're injured at some point and probably tackle hug you.

The last thing he'll let you do is stay cooped up in bed unless Chopper insists that you have to. Even if you need to rest you can do it right next to him on the head of the Sunny, right?

Exactly like Ace he's going to frown at whatever part of you is injured and say, "Jeez, can you heal up already?!"

He gets whatever you need and probably overdoes it. Need a glass of water? He just straight up brings you the whole barrel.

More is better! Besides, you need to hurry up and get better!

ZORO

He's not worried. He's so chill about it, actually. ...Until you start to move around.

The way he switches up is laugh worthy. He goes from nonchalant to overprotective in an instant.

He practically holds his breath as you make your way around the Sunny, watching you like a hawk.

Admittedly, he does tease you a little. He'll grab things for you, but hold them out of your reach or call you a little turtle if you move slower. He thinks it's very cute hehe.

For better or for worse, Zoro's not a hypocrite. He won't hound you to take it easy if you think you're up to a task. Even if Chopper really wishes he would.

He still won't leave you though, unless you're resting and stationary, he's by your side.

Zoro is your attack dog boyfriend. There's no way anyone (*ahem* Luffy) is fooling around too close to you. There's not going to be a chance you could get hurt more or reinjured.

When you're alone he checks in with you to make sure you're okay, not because he's shy about being soft in front of people but more so to protect your privacy.

He kind of likes doing extra things for you, he won't say it out loud but it makes him really happy when he can do things while you recover. He considers taking care of someone he loves to be such an honor.

SANJI

Unless whatever injured you is vitally important (e.g. the Sunny), he's kicking the shit out of it on principle because how dare anything even dare to hurt you lmao

Are you surprised that he dotes on you hand and foot? You shouldn't be.

I think it also goes without saying he is cooking you best meals.

They're gonna have to tie him down when it comes time for your rehabilitation because he wants to do everything for you.

He's such a sweet heart! He leaves you little messages like "you're doing great!" and "I love you!"

Literally this man lives with you on the ship and he still got you flowers, a get well card, and a little stuffed animal like he's not going to see you every single day

He loves carrying you (as long as it's Chopper approved). He's beaming down the sunny with you in his arms.

He makes the cutest little picnics so you can eat comfortably

Sanji's also an emotional support boyfriend lol. In between cooking for the crew and other duties, he's curled up right next to.

He might coddle you a little too much but it's just because he loves you so so so much

[radioisntdead]

Good evening folks! I'm dropping this lil headcanon thingy that's been on my brain, that very much leans into the fanon territory!

Trigger warnings just in case!: Mentions of mild cannibalism because it's Alastor, and biting

I'm still figuring out how to properly write Alastor so this may be OOC! This was not proofread so please don't mind any grammar mistakes! Enjoy reading!

Alastor just causally bites, Mainly your arms and shoulders, not in a sexual way he just... Bites

Your shoulder is exposed? How scandalous! Your getting bit, he's holding your wrist for whatever reason? CHOMP, You wear something that exposes your forearms? You guessed it! It's biting time!

Broski's teeth are SHARP, don't be surprised if you end up bleeding a bit and bro just takes that as like juice, a liquid snack,

A sauce if you will,

Of course the biting typically takes place in private or when the others aren't looking, because basic decency, just because you're in eternal damnation doesn't mean you should lack proper manners! Especially if you're romantically involved!

Also his eyes do the tweaking out thing whenever he bites you

Oh you think he's gonna look dapper and handsome when biting? No.

he looks like someone just injected feral juice and some type of drug into him, even if it's for a spilt second

This is what you get when he bites,

Is it his way of showing affection? Is it some type of weird way to gain control over you? Maybe it's to make you flustered or lose your composer for a second perhaps even to cause you a moment of misery because he's a weirdo

Or emergency snack time,

I know he's a cannibal and not a vampire but I feel like you toss some glitter on him and shine a flashlight at him he'll be a decent dupe for that one guy in twilight

I also feel like you would NOT survive doing that to him, do not throw glitter on the Radio demon and then blind him with a flashlight

You two could be having a very nice time, taking a walk, maybe your just sitting side by side somewhere and he'll just gently take your arm and before you can even process it you feel a stinging feeling and you see the oh so feared Radio demon with his teeth mid-way into your arm looking goofy, so silly.

I feel like if you start biting him back he'll either be displeased with it and nip that behavior in the bud or it becomes a game between you two,

Bonding by just chompin' down on your S/O's arm very wholesome

Also I don't know if you can get infections from getting bit in Hell but I feel like you should disinfect the bites, he might have something

Thank you for tuning in and reading folks! I hope you all have a wonderful evening!

[zentraex]

Summary: Amorica is a virus that makes people turn yandere. Never would you have thought, that your boyfriend Izuku would be one of the infected.

Pairings: Yandere! Izuku x Reader Warnings: Yandere behavior, violence Remember: English differs a lot from German, so I apologize for possible mistakes:

Love-Virus: Amorica

"Deku! Here, here! HELP!" shouts a young girl, whose legs are mercilessly smashed in a pile of rubble. She is small and petite, has her whole life ahead of her. She can't give up yet, not if she has to see someone else. 

Her boyfriend, her darling, her everything. 

She MUST see him again, she still MUST spend time with him like she planned it and she MUST marry him, start a family with him and grow old together. 

She just has to!

"HELP!!!! DEKU! I'M HERE!" she screams with full force and thankfully her cry for help is finally heard. In front of her appears a muscular green-haired man, number one among all heroes, one who goes by the hero's name Deku. He has saved thousands, no, even millions of people. Today he is there for her, for the poor little girl who whimpers and shivers in pain. 

"Don't worry, I'm here now," he says and puts on his broad and wide smile that everyone in Japan, no, even the whole world, knows.  He lifts the debris aside and pulls her out so gently, even though his hands look like they could crush someone.

She breathes a sigh of relief as the pressure on her body subsides. It was really hard to bear. She sweats all over her body, the stress brought her into high gear. 

"Thank you, Deku!"

The hero only nods in response, but his smile hasn't even left his face. Not even when the girl's sweat mixes with his and causes a tingling sensation in the affected areas.

_

"Izuku, you're scorching hot!" you realize when your hand almost burns on his forehead. 

It's been a day since the earthquake. Your boyfriend was on duty and once again saved countless lives. 

Your boyfriend is a good person, maybe even the best.

You're incredibly happy to have him and when you look at his reddened face, you can see that he feels the same way.

He always forgets to think about himself.

You just smile as you put a cool rag on his forehead and give him a tender kiss on the cheek. 

"I'll make you chicken broth, okay? Rest until then, you will certainly feel better."

Izuku just nods and closes his eyes. Just a few seconds later, you hear slight snoring from the living room. 

You smile. 

Even if you don't like it when he's sick, you still like to nurse him back to health.  

_

"Izuku, your fever won't go down! You've been on 39 degrees for three days! You have to go to the doctor!" you shout through the house.

Your boyfriend just shakes his head.

"It'll be okay. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow."

"Don't kid yourself, Izuku. That's what you said two days ago."

You're worried, no, scared, because you don't know what to do about it. 

Izuku just lifts the blanket and opens his arms. 

"Just come here, please. Then I’ll feel better."

You frown, but you still comply with his wish. Usually, your boyfriend doesn't want you to get too close to him when he's sick. He is always afraid that he could infect you.

That's why you're surprised when he hugs you and gives you a kiss on the forehead. 

More worry spreads through you. 

Maybe it's really something so serious....

_

"Do you really have to go to work?" your sick boyfriend asks you as he makes his way to you. Today is the fifth day that Izuku has his fever. You had the days off, but now you have to go to work today. 

"I'd rather take care of you, but I have to."

Izuku hugs you, his strong muscles holding you firmly in place.

"Why don't you take the day off?"

Laughing, you shake your head and give him a kiss on the cheek. Reluctantly, Izuku lets go of you, a pout on his lips. 

_

"Darling!", Izuku greets you as you get home. He has already torn the door open before you have even arrived at your house. 

With your eyebrows drawn together, you walk towards him. Usually, you both always call each other by name.

Izuku was never the type for pet names.

Is it his illness?

Izuku has never waited so eagerly for you.

Is it his illness? 

Izuku has also never hugged you as tightly as he does now.

Is it his illness?

Today is the sixth day. Will he get well soon? Hopefully he will get well soon. It makes you nervous, worries you and gives you a little anxiety.

"How are you feeling today?"

"Better, but I missed you so much."

You put your hand on his forehead: it really seems to be cooler now.

_

"36.5 degrees. Congratulations, you're officially healthy today," you smile. Izuku returns your smile and gives you a kiss on the forehead. "Are you going on patrol right away?"

"Yes, of course. I've rested far too long, haven't I?"

You just nod and laugh. You can't wait to get back to your usual everyday life. 

_

"The virus, Amorica, spreads through bodily fluids among people. The exact number of people affected is still unknown, as it is not noticeable to the infected and the people around them. Symptoms include exaggerated longing for one's partner, unhealthy jealousy or immoral behavior. Those affected explain that they have begun to no longer perceive their actions as bad.  How contagious the virus is, is still unknown at the moment. However, scientists suspect that some are immune to it. 

Today we tell the story of Molly. She is a 20-year-old lawyer who is infected with the virus. Molly doesn't know how long she has been ill, but her boyfriend pointed out that her controlling behavior began a month ago. At first, the signs were only vague, there were only frequent questions about her boyfriend’s well-being. After a few weeks, Molly started following her boyfriend everywhere. Days later, Molly committed her first murder out of jealousy. Although her boyfriend was in constant contact with her, he has no symptoms.

How-"

You change the channel in shock. For some time now, the news have been reporting on such cases. Izuku also tells you that there are frequent cases. The infected act out of unhealthy love: they stalk, kidnap, even kill. The victims are usually distraught afterwards and have to seek therapeutic help. 

Society is afraid, people are becoming suspicious, you also have concerns.

What if you annoy someone infected? 

A shiver runs down your spine. 

Hopefully not...

_ _

Meanwhile, Izuku watches you from the door frame. 

For some time now, his desire for you has become bigger. He can't really explain it, but somehow, he wants your attention especially often, want to hug you especially often and wants to kiss you especially often – from head to toe.

What's wrong with him?

Of course, he loved you before, otherwise you wouldn't be in a relationship. For some reason, however, he can't let you out of his sight, as soon as he averts his gaze, his heart aches. 

It hurts, cramps and contracts. 

It's like he needs you to survive, because without you, his heart doesn't beat anymore. 

It's worse when he's at work. He can't think of anything but you! 

All the injured people he saves suddenly have your face!

Then his breathing becomes more and more heavy until at some point he can't breathe at all, suffocates almost at nothing. 

He always comes home immediately afterwards, so, he can calm down when you greet him at the door, with your sweet loving smile. Every tension, every worry and every fear that ran through his whole body until now dissolves and is replaced by a feeling of warmth and security. 

Even now, as he watches you from a distance, it feels like everything is in harmony. 

He breathes in and out in a relaxed manner as he lets the situation sink in and then sits down next to you. However, when he looks at your face, he notices the deep wrinkles of your forehead and the look of worry in your eyes. He copies your facial expression and puts an arm around you, pushing you close to him. 

Your scent rises to his nose and despite the situation, he has to suppress a moan as his eyes roll back. 

Had your smell always such an intoxicating effect on him?

"What's the matter, darling? Is something bothering you?" he murmurs as he rests his chin on your head. 

"No... well, yes, sort of," you say and return his hug. Izuku's heart seems to jump happily as your tender arms wrap around him. 

"Well then, go on! What's going through your pretty head?"

"Well, there's this infection going around right now and I'm afraid of what people are capable now. What if someone is after me because I'm only talking to her lover?"

Then don't talk to anyone, you only need me. Just stay here, then nothing happens. I protect you, with me you are safest. 

Izuku would like to say that, but before he can say the words, the penny drops. His eyes widen when realization hits him: he is infected. 

"Don't worry, nothing will happen," he says, gives you a kiss on the forehead and goes into his study room, locks himself in.

That explains everything! That's why he's no longer himself!

Oh no.

Oh no.

Oh no.

What is he doing now!? Is there a cure? Not yet, right?

He grabs his green curls tightly as he drops into the chair. 

What if he endangers you because of this virus! You would leave him!

No, you would never leave me, I wouldn't let that happen.

No, no, no, away with these thoughts. That's not him! These are not his thoughts; this is the virus! 

His heart beats like crazy and his breath becomes heavy as panic runs through his veins. 

He already had to deal with a few cases involving the virus. Some infected people locked their loved ones in the basement so that they could not leave them, some broke their legs for the same reason. As a sign of love, some carved their name into their partners skin with a knife. 

What if Izuku will do something like that to you?

At the thought, he quickly rushes to his trash can as he vomits. 

These are horrifying ideas! He doesn't want that, he's afraid, so incredibly afraid. 

The only thing he can do now, is to get out of your way and hope that he will heal for some reason, or you will leave him and go somewhere, where you are safe of him.

Leave? No, you can’t abandon me! I'm nothing without you!

The thought makes him vomit again.

_

It's been a week since Izuku started to avoid you like the pest. You're worried, something is bothering him and he refuses to talk to you about it. He locks himself in his room, sleeps there and doesn't even come out to eat. 

Today, you made ramen the way he likes it best. You knock gently at his door, but there is no answer.

"Izuku? I made ramen. Would you like to come out and eat with me?" you finally ask after a while.

He doesn't even open the door when he answers you, his voice only sounds distant and quiet from the other room. 

"No, I'm not hungry, but thanks for preparing."

Tears form in the corners of your eyes as you are rejected yet again. He always says that, but even if you leave him a bowl, it's still left untouched the next day.

"Izuku, what's wrong with you? Please talk to me!"

There is no answer and then you sob loudly as the tears flow. 

"Izuku, did I do something wrong? If so, I'm sorry, but please stop avoiding me!"

Again, no answer and then you leave, crying and heartbroken. 

_ _

Behind the door, Izuku's world collapses when he hears your crying. His heart splits into thousands of shards with every sob. 

He tied himself up at the other end of the room so he can’t go to you. 

He had a hard time getting through the first two days, but at the third he couldn't stand it anymore and stood next to your bed at night and watched you. For this moment, all his thoughts were in harmony and he had been able to relax again after two days of suffering.

That was the last time he saw you, because he realized how sick his behavior was. 

Then he tied himself up so he would not be tempted to get too close to you again. Deep down, he knows that these shackles are of no use at all and that he could break them with ease, but he tells himself that they are indestructible. 

For the sake of both of you. 

_

Three days later, he hears a man's voice from the living room. 

Who is this?

He doesn't know this voice. Has the time finally come? Are you leaving him now?

No, no, no! You wouldn't do that to him, would you? You wouldn't replace him just because he doesn't show up for a few days, would you? 

Who is this?

Who dares to get too close to you? 

"Make yourself comfortable on the sofa," you say. 

"Thank you, I'm glad that we're doing something together again. How long ago was the last time? Three years?"

"Yes, maybe. It definitely feels like an eternity. What a coincidence that I saw you on the street today."

So, you know each other from the past? Why doesn't he know about him? Why didn't you tell him about this guy? Why is he in your apartment?

Why are you doing this to him?

He is trying so hard for you, and you!? You're cheating on him!

No, no, no. You wouldn’t, you would never do something like that. He has to calm down, otherwise he will do something he might regret. 

Izuku doesn't know how long they guy stayed already, but every second feels like torture. He doesn't want to keep himself restrained anymore. He misses you so much. 

So so so much. 

He will certainly never hurt you, right? 

The victims of infected people are usually distraught afterwards and have to seek therapeutic help. 

But with him, it will never come to that. He will treat you like a princess as you deserve. He will carry you on his hands and make sure that you lack nothing, that you are always well. 

So, he can stop, right? He can go out, right?

"By the way, are you single? You know, I've always had that huge crush on you and always hoped to see you again. Maybe you can give me a chance, hm?" says your visitor. 

_ _

Before you can answer, the door of the study suddenly breaks and dust and smoke is blocking your view. 

What the…?

You only hear breaking bones.

Your heart pounds rapidly against your chest as it begs you to run away. But you can't help but be glued to the ground as panic flows through you. 

Only when the view clears, you recognize Izuku, who is holding the smashed skull of your childhood friend and looks at him deranged, breathing heavily. Then his eyes suddenly wander to yours and a big smile pulls onto his lips.

"Darling!" he says and throws the skull away like it’s garbage. When he takes a step towards you, you take one back, shivering. Izuku's smile falls and he looks at you anxiously.

"Don't be afraid, I would never do something like that to you!"

You can only cry as you stretch out your arms in front of you, hoping it will keep him away and protect you. 

"Don't cry, darling, please. Everything’s okay!"

"No, stay away."

You know that if Izuku really wanted to do something to you, he would so already. He has the power to do so. 

Who would have thought that your beloved boyfriend would ever kill someone? Number one hero? The best person out there? The hero, who saved thousands, no, millions of lives?

That you'd ever be afraid of him?

Who would have thought that a virus could change a person in such a way that you finally decide to rush to the exit. 

But you don't get far when two muscular arms wrap around your stomach and capture you. Izuku pushes you close to him as he buries his nose in your hair. You hear him inhale loudly and exhale contentedly as he squeezes you even harder.

"Finally," he says. "Finally, I have you in my arms again, darling. I promise that I will never avoid you again. I have no idea why I did this in the first place. How did I come up with this idea? Am I stupid? This feels like heaven!"

More tears flow down your cheek as he drags you further and further away from the door. 

"We have so much to catch up on for the long time we haven't seen each other."

[crustyfloor]

Content warning (light) : Experiments / Abuse / Body and eye horror tw(?)

The album cover is sick as hell, I initially thought it was skeletal parts, but it looks the most like an MRI scan showing a brain with a lot of abnormalities, including signs of head trauma.

The most profound detail I found in the "brain" is the dark spots.

Dark spots in the brain are usually the result of a brain lesion, a permanently damaged area of the brain usually caused by injury, infections, exposure to certain chemicals, etc. General trauma.

If it's someone's brain, I suspect it's Till's brain. aside from Luka, he has been through the worst of the Alien's mistreatment since he was a child, under Urak's (the bastard's) care he had been exposed to much abuse. The sheer harshness and hostility of Urak's "training" make it obvious why he was probably one of the only pets to withstand it all.

Life-long injury in some form is surely a given to me. Seeing as it's already been mentioned that because of Urak's abuse, his pets rarely make it to the end because of the mental issues they had developed, and experiments can kill them before they even make it to the stage.

Back to the brain, it has a lot of abnormalities (especially in its appearance). I can't explain much, I'm not a neurologist. But based on the research I did the the most damage seems to be near the Frontal lobe and the Precentral gyrus.

source source source

This could explain Till's already implied mental problems, one of them (In my opinion) being some form of dissociation, round 6 was the most telling as his behavior was out of sorts having been broken down he changed drastically, throughout the whole round he was emotionally distant, i'd probably describe it as him being in a daze.

And his hallucination of Mizi during the karaoke scene could be a symptom of that to ease out of the moment.

(I also see that as more of a coping mechanism for Till, but I'm taking it into account for this since it's likely.)

Experiments always looked intense, I wonder just what chemicals and substances he was exposed to, in one of the opening scenes of CURE we're shown what looks to be DNA splitting, or duplicating? there could be a multitude of reasons for that. But it makes me curious just how deep this goes, and how much it affected Till. There is a lot of things about him that could be explained with Urak's presence in his life.

Having his brain tampered with to such a degree, I think we'll start to see the horrific effects come to light here soon.

[drdemonprince]

Is "safe sex" even real? Never done it so idk but you mentioned risk profiles once. I feel like demographically I've got a higher risk profile and the anxiety about that really prevents me from going and trying anything. Do you think that's overly anxious in a negative way?

"safe sex" is a really misleading and binary term. There is never any guarantee of safety in anything we do. Every choice we make comes with risks. Hell, choosing not to connect with other people sexually (if you have any desire to) does ITSELF come with its own risks and costs over time.

The chase after perfect, guranteed safety will only lead to us feeling powerless and afraid, because it is an impossibility. All that we can do is inform ourselves of the risks, mitigate the risks we are the most concerned about and that affect others, and then knowingly accept what risks we still face as the cost of leading a full, enjoyable life.

When we inform ourselves about risk mitigation, we learn there are certain steps that we should probably take to protect ourselves and others if we are engaging in behavior that carries risk. If you're having sex with a complete stranger, it's probably smart to use a condom. If you have sex regularly you might want an HPV vaccine or to be on PreP to prevent HIV transmission. When you meet up with people you should get tested for COVID. You should get vaccinated against COVID. If you want to get suspended in rope from the ceiling don't use a hardware store $3 carabeener, get the good shit from the rock-climbing supply store. Things like that.

But even if you use a condom, you might get herpes or HPV or crabs or a yeast infection. Even if you never have sex, you might already have herpes or HPV or crabs or a yeast infection. I've had several of those things, including some of the "scarier" sounding ones, and they're really not that big a deal. They're just a thing that happens in life. Most people have them. You pop a Valtrex when you have symptoms, you shove a suppostiory up your vulva when it itches, you sleep without underwear on, you communicate with partners, you move on with your life.

Sure, I do what I can to avoid the risks I am most concerned about. I take PreP right now because not getting HIV would be preferable to me. But I could still live if I got it. I am informed about the realities of living with HIV today, which makes that fear more manageable. It is easier for me to make carefully considered and yet realistic decisions surrounding my risk profile because I can confront the realities that scare me and learn more about them.

The body is not separable form its environment. We are connected to our surroundings and the people around us, and our bodies get sick, catch viruses, grow old, get messy, and die inevitably and return to the earth. With our one life, we each have to choose what is most important to us and what potential costs we can stand. But with each year that passes, a cost to our bodies is already incurred, and there's nothing we can do to prevent aging and death from coming our way.

So what would you like to do while you are around? Would you like to have sex with condoms? Go on PreP? Get the HPV vaccine? Take random loads in a glory hole? Make out and dry hump with a cutie at a party and catch her cold sore? Cross the street in the dark after looking both ways? Go out dancing so late that your sleep is disrupted for the whole week? Get your heart broken? Have a great all-consuming love? Have children? Endure a torn labia while giving birth? Try psychedelics? Go on a swinger's cruise? Get a UTI from spermicide? Roleplay online instead of meeting in person? Fuck people with a strap-on?

The choice is yours. And no choice you make will be perfect or come without risk. No life is safe. Accepting loss is one of the necessary tasks of leading a life. But you can educate yourself, reflect on what you most want out of life and what you fear, and then take steps to demystefy your worst fears and mitigate the risks that loom largest to you and the people you care about.

Whatever you decide, I hope you have some fun.

[signanothername]

Why do you like Killer?

*Cracks knuckles* get ready

I don’t like Killer, I fucking LOVE HIM

He’s my number 1 fave au sans and has been for a very long time

Now to be clear, I’m talking about canon Killer here, i have mixed feelings about some fanon interpretations, some are good and i genuinely love them, others not so much

That being said, let’s actually talk about why i love my beautiful amazing wonderful son <3333

(All art used in this post is by Killer’s creator: Rahafwabas)

The very first hook for me is his very concept, the mere idea of a sans basically agreeing to go on a killing spree after so many genocide runs is just *chef’s kiss*

Killer knew it was wrong, he knew he shouldn’t, yet he did

Killer doomed himself by his choice, he could’ve stayed as “sans” but he chose to accept Chara’s offer, yet his choice came to be after he saw no point in refusing anymore (important addition and a correction here)

The canon comics had Killer saying that he’s the way he is cause he gave up, he said “you won, you’re the reason I’m like this”, he’s been on so many genocide runs that he felt a little part of him die each run, only to give up and go on said killing spree

It’s interesting how the player is a big part of Killer’s story, cause whether Chara was involved or not, the player is the root cause of his suffering

But what i love the most is that regardless of his backstory or reasons, Killer’s actions led to their inevitable consequences, and it forever changed him

The biggest change? His very soul, it went from a normal monster soul to his signature target soul, infused with Determination, something that supposedly hurts monsters, it’s almost like his soul was infected with it, and you can see how it physically affects him with the black liquid that constantly comes out his eyes, nose and mouth, and even at times, that sludge is too much that he chokes on it

And the amusing yet tragic parallel? Killer aimed to “feel something new” by his genocide runs, only to end up not feeling anything at all, at least at his default stage 2

Which brings me to the concept of his soul’s stages

I love Killer’s stages so so much, it’s such a beautiful unique and wonderful concept

Killer’s individual stages are sooooo intriguing to me, it shows Killer in a different light each time depending on which stage he’s in, stage 1 is the closest he is to being “sans”, the closest to he used to be, he can feel emotions and is generally back to his more lazy bones attitude, as well as his ability to actually show sympathy, and feel the pain he’s always in, but what’s interesting is that regardless of the fact he’s the closest to his old self in this stage, it’s still so clear that Killer isn’t really “sans” anymore, that no matter what, he truly had changed in a way that can never be reversed, a point of no return, even when Color saves him, cause his new habits? His fears? His pain? His trauma? They can never be taken away, Killer has to live with the scars of what he experienced

Stage 2 is who he’d become, he can’t feel anything at this stage, emotions nonexistent, and his nonchalant behavior towards himself and others is most apparent here, a parallel I like to think of is that Killer’s inability to feel anything at all is almost like prolonged sensory deprivation, when you’re deprived of sensory input/ simulation for long periods, your brain needs compensate, and so it does its job, Killer’s soul prevents him from feeling so he resorts to other methods (usually very self destructive) to compensate for his lack of emotional capacity

I also really really love how that especially during stage 2, Killer isn’t trustworthy, cause in stage 1 you can actually trust him to an extent, in stage 2 Killer’s actions, behaviors and mindset are completely unpredictable, but not because he’s random, cause he’s actually extremely calculated, yet regardless, his carelessness when it comes to his own life and other people’s lives is dialed to an 11 here, so he could either choose to kill/attack or simply stay and listen

we even get an actual in depth look at how Killer’s mind works in one of the canon comics, in which Killer contemplates whether to attack Dream or not as he listens to his own stages in his head, one of which tells him to Kill Dream, while the other tells Killer to talk to Dream first

How Killer comes to a final decision on whether he attacks or not is something I believe his calculated mind makes depending on the situation and the pros/cons of what act he chooses, Killer is pretty smart, he knows when to let his trigger happy self out and when to settle down

Stage 3 or the “crazy stage” is the stage in which he’d attack anyone in his way whether friend or foe, we unfortunately don’t have much canon info regarding this stage, but that ain’t gonna stop me from analyzing the shit outta it (and talk about how i perceive it)

I like to think of this stage as the combination between stage 1 and 2, yet it’s almost like his soul can’t truly decide on which stage to settle on and by extension founding stage 3 as a separate stage by itself, Killer becomes extremely unstable at this stage, his soul moves rapidly and it’s obvious he’s in pain cause of it, whether that pain is just emotional or both physical and emotional isn’t really clear, yet i’d like to believe it’s both, and i feel like Killer’s capacity to attack anyone at this stage is related to that pain, and something I really love to believe is that Killer can’t calm down enough to settle back to stage 1 or 2 unless he either wears himself out by fighting someone, or he’s left alone to his own demons long enough to pull himself together, if he were to be forcefully restrained during this stage, it would only serve to make it worse and prolong the time he stays that way (cough something i may or may not have made a quick comic about but never shared as always vjvjvjj)

Not to mention, one of the canonical responses Killer gives when asked if he’s ok at stage 3 seems to make Killer alternate between answers he wants to give between saying he’s “fine” and “i don’t know” which makes sense, Killer isn’t stable at all, it’s almost like his stage 1 self and stage 2 self are fighting over who gets to talk (stage 2 seems more dominant)

Yet the fact Killer is able to answer and comprehend his surroundings enough at this stage is very intriguing to me, cause it shows how much Killer is able to handle/endure (which is A LOT cause damn) and not only that, but it also gives us a very clear difference between this stage and stage 4

As for stage 4?? Woooh boi, it’s the stage I like to call “plunging into darkness”

We also don’t have much canon info about this stage, but one of the things i find interesting is the fact Killer deliberately keeps it a secret from everyone, when he tells Color about his stages, he only tells him up to stage 3, never bringing up stage 4, only for Chara to sneer at Killer that he shouldn’t keep it from his new BFF

It’s obvious Killer himself is very uncomfortable with the subject of stage 4, it’s apparent that it’s a stage that he rarely gets to, but it still bothers him enough to not want to even mention it, which makes sense, cause the comic we had of stage 4 shows that Killer gets to that stage when he’s reminded of all the murders he committed, and unsurprisingly, when he’s reminded of his brother, as what triggered this stage is actually a memory of Papyrus telling Sans to “see a puzzle”, only to be followed by memories of screams of anger, fear, and hatred of those he killed immediately afterwards, stage 4 is heavily related to his trauma

Not to mention it’s clear that when Killer gets to stage 4 he blacks out, he’s completely unaware of anything he does during this stage, and is only left to deal with the aftermath when he gets back to his senses, the fact it’s also a stage that seems to be “getting worse” is something that Killer definitely seems to hate

It sometimes makes me think whether Killer had gotten into trouble cause he killed someone Nightmare wanted alive while at this stage, cause with how he keeps it a secret, I’d assume Nightmare would be unaware of it for a while (comic idea perhaps >:) )

But y’know what’s better than talking about the stages?? Talking about Killer’s personality, behaviors and trauma

Killer can’t distinguish between what’s real or not, and it’s obvious he sometimes sees the world in the third person, as in he’s not completely there at times, not to mention the amount of voices he hears in his head, from his stages talking to him to hallucinations of Chara, Frisk and Papyrus, and oooh boi does he hate these hallucinations, the past obviously haunts Killer and it’s something he tries running away from constantly, yet he can never truly run from it when it follows him everywhere

Killer has a smile on his face most the time, but his attitude changes especially when Chara is mentioned, or when he’s reminded of his past in any way, he literally avoids food that reminds of his past life as “sans”, he freezes up at certain phrases such as “best friend” (something i also made a comic about that i never shared chchhchc)

He just absolutely hates to be reminded of the person he used to be, of all the things he used to have, cause in truth? They were all taken away from him by his own hands, only to be then forced to work under Nightmare, who only ensures that he never finds peace of mind

And the sad part? Killer let’s all those things hurt him, he lets Nightmare have his way with him, he lets Chara torment him, cause he thinks he deserves it, and most importantly, he deluded himself into believing that this is what he wants because it’s what everyone else wants, because it’s what the player wants

Killer even sometimes tries to force himself not to feel anything, cause come on, since when does he feel anything at all?

Killer, to put it bluntly, hates himself, and he thinks that his suffering is the Karma of what he’s done, and even at one point, he was going to erase himself out of existence cause he believed that’s what he deserved, as in Killer thought of himself as unworthy when it comes to Papyrus, that his brother doesn’t need him, that his brother is better off without him, hell he even tells Color that he needs to kill him if he ever reaches stage 3, it’s an obvious “ i want someone to put me outta my misery” attitude

Killer feels hopeless, and so he lets himself suffer thinking he can’t ever find peace or hope again

Yet the interesting part? You’d never know that Killer hates himself unless you’re a being of emotions (Nightmare and Dream) or someone who’s perceptive enough to notice Killer’s self-loathing like Color, that’s how good of an actor Killer can be, you’d think he’s a cold emotionaless killer but the truth only shines to those who actually can see through his act

Killer just has that amazing character depth and his story is genuinely so unique and beautiful, cause you in his story you can find details of other details within the details vhvhvjvj

All that? Mixed with really adorable little things like his love for cats, his silly attitude, his nonchalance with Nightmare, his capacity to be social with whoever, and his friendship with color? That is why I love Killer Anon <33333

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Coma

Coma - (from the Greek word ‘‘koma,’’ meaning deep sleep)

A state of extreme unresponsiveness, in which an individual exhibits no voluntary movement or behavior.

In a deep coma, even painful stimuli (actions which, when performed on a healthy individual, result in reactions) are unable to affect any response, and normal reflexes may be lost.

Coma is the result of something that interferes with the functioning of the cerebral cortex and/or the functioning of the structures that make up the RAS. In fact, a huge and varied number of conditions can result in coma. A good way of categorizing these conditions is to consider the anatomic and the metabolic causes of coma:

Anatomic causes of coma are those conditions that disrupt the normal physical architecture of the brain structures responsible for consciousness, either at the level of the cerebal cortex or the brainstem.

Metabolic causes of coma consist of those conditions that change the chemical environment of the brain, thereby adversely affecting function.

As in any neurologic condition, history and examination form the cornerstone of diagnosis when the patient is in a coma; however, history must be obtained from family, friends, or EMS.

The Glasgow Coma Scale is a system of examining a comatose patient.

It is helpful for evaluating the depth of the coma, tracking the patient’s progress, and predicting (somewhat) the ultimate outcome of the coma.

It assigns a different number of points for exam results in three different categories:

opening the eyes,

verbal response (using words or voice to respond), and

motor response (moving a part of the body).

Fifteen is the largest possible number of total points, indicating the highest level of functioning.

The highest level of functioning would be demonstrated by an individual who spontaneously opens his/her eyes, gives appropriate answers to questions about his/her situation, and can carry out a command (such as ‘‘move your leg’’ or ‘‘nod your head’’).

Three is the least possible number of total points and would be given to a patient for whom not even a painful stimulus is sufficient to provoke a response.

In the middle are those patients who may be able to respond, but who require an intense or painful stimulus, and whose response may demonstrate some degree of brain malfunctioning (such as a person whose only response to pain in a limb is to bend that limb in toward the body).

When performed as part of the admission examination, a Glasgow score of three to five points often suggests that the patient has likely suffered fatal brain damage, while eight or more points indicates that the patient’s chances for recovery are good.

Expansion of the pupils and respiratory pattern are also important.

Metabolic causes of coma are diagnosed from blood work and urinalysis to evaluate blood chemistry, drug screen, and blood cell abnormalities that may indicate infection.

Anatomic causes of coma are diagnosed from CT (computed tomography) or MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) scans.

Coma is a medical emergency, and attention must first be directed to maintaining the patient’s respiration and circulation, using intubation and ventilation, administration of intravenous fluids or blood as needed, and other supportive care.

If head trama has not been excluded, the neck should be stabilized in the event of fracture.

It is obviously extremely important for a physician to determine quickly the cause of a coma, so that potentially reversible conditions are treated immediately. For example, an infection may be treated with antibiotics; a brain tumor may be removed; and brain swelling from an injury can be reduced with certain medications.

Various metabolic disorders can be addressed by supplying the individual with the correct amount of oxygen, glucose, or sodium; by treating the underlying disease in liver disease, asthma, or diabetes; and by halting seizures with medication.

Because of their low incidence of side effects and potential for prompt reversal of coma in certain conditions, glucose, the Bvitamin thiamine, and Narcan (to counteract any narcotic-type drugs) are routinely given.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Realistic Injuries

[murdrdocs]

FORMIDABLE COOL. ethan landry

about. blinded by your attraction and romanticization of college, you don't realize that ethan landry isn't who he says he is until it's too late

includes. DARK CONTENT 18+ fem! reader, mean!ethan, ghostface!ethan, p n v, manipulation (!!),, choking/breath play

wc: 1.4k+

→ kinktober masterlist

Out of everyone else in the friend group, it’s easiest for Ethan to get close to you. 

Unsuspecting you, wide eyes and hopeful glances at anyone who looks your way, the desperation to live out your ‘college fantasy’ leaking from every single pore in your body. The stench of your sheer desire pulls him in, it urges Ethan to switch from that shy and dorky facade he’s put up around Chad and his friends to a more confident flair, the ego he uses while he’s behind screens on forums online. 

It’s frighteningly easy to get you to give in. All he has to do is smile and look at you twice, and suddenly you’re spreading your legs for him in a movie theater, some new film you originally seemed thrilled to see entering the third act without either of you knowing any of the key plot points. 

It’s after the first time that you cum on his fingers that you’re infected. His own personal love fool. 

Truthfully, after you meet him for the first time, taking part in an insufferable ice breaker in a group of five other people, your name has inched its way up the Bailey dead pool, sitting pretty right below the other five of the friend group Ethan is steadily infiltrating. 

You have the urge to eat, breathe and sleep Ethan Landry, your awe filled eyes glazing over any possible red flags in his behavior. You’re too busy forcing yourself into his lap and curling your hands into his hair to realize that he’s been blowing you off more often recently. You’re too busy bouncing yourself on his cock to notice the bruises he has along his back and shoulders, inflicted from someone other than you. You’re too busy grinding your face up into his mouth to take in his constant lies, times, dates, and actions that don’t line up well enough. 

It takes you impossibly long to even start to notice his act, to start to take in the inconsistencies of his character depending on who you’re around. It’s Mindy who brings it to your attention first, coming to you as a caring friend, voice softer and rash opinions heavily watered down as she approaches you like she would a wounded animal. And when you flip out on her, denial heavy on your tongue which seems drier than usual, she only smiles at you sadly and watches as you run back to Ethan, another lie inevitably fed into your welcoming ears. 

It all comes to a head on your floor. 

Worn down hardwood creaks with each shuffle. The material is rough against your bare legs. The playlist you had going has ended, leaving nothing but the soft breaths from you and Ethan to fill the silence of the bedroom. 

Your questions are spoken into the air, answered by Ethan like he’s your savior. Like he can control you. And he can. 

He has. 

His hand around your neck, his cock entering your walls over and over, the pace steady and slow, each thrust harder than the last, sending you up the wood, the rough scratch of it against your back. The words he has spoken to you – his confession – reverberate through your body, bouncing around your mind all the way down to your lungs which scream for the need of constant airflow. 

Sensing your state, his hand loosens just enough to allow air in, the rough palm still circling around your neck as he refuses to let you go completely. You fear he’ll never let you go. But even more, you fear that you don’t want him to.

You don’t realize it, but hot tears are sliding down your cheeks at this point. It’s not until he points them out that you start feeling the emotions connected to them, shame and embarrassment and guilt planting itself in your brain, manifesting throughout your body. 

“Why’re you crying, sweetheart?” His voice wobbles just enough to show you that he’s affected, too, but definitely not in the same way. He has a smile on his face, borderline villainous, opposite from the sweet and charming smile you’re used to seeing from him. Sweat beads above his eyebrow, a testament to the chase he’d led you on, followed by the slow fucking he’s been giving you for God knows how long. 

Your eyes pinch shut, a pitiful attempt to dry your tears up without the use of your hands, rendered useless and bound between your bodies. It doesn't work well, and you flinch when you feel a drop of Ethan’s sweat land on your cheek, mixing with your self-created fluid. 

You’d assumed the question was rhetorical, a taunt to remind you of your inferior status in this fucked up relationship. It’s not until he hums questioningly that you realize you’re expected to respond. 

Your eyes pinch together tighter and you shake your head, only making Ethan chuckle. 

“No? You don’t know why you’re crying?” Nothing from you. You refuse to give him more, especially when you’re already letting him abuse your cunt. Because that’s what you’re doing. 

You let him lay you back. You let him peel your legs open. You lifted your hips and moaned approvingly when he slid your panties off and inserted two fingers into your entrance. 

“Open your eyes. Look at me.” The authoritative tone is more attractive than it should’ve been, and it has you instantly doing as told, eyes opening to look into those same dark brown ones you used to love so much. 

“Why’re you crying, baby?” he asks you again. “You knew it – this – was all an act, didn’t you?” 

And when you think back, you think you did know. You deluded yourself enough to think that this was sincere, genuine, your college dream. The thought heats up your neck, it stirs something unpleasant in your chest, it has you letting out a desperate cry that quickly slips into a pleading moan. 

His hand squeezes at the sides of your throat, thumb sticking under your jaw to lift your head. “Answer me.” 

Your nod suffices as an answer, especially when more tears slide down your already blotchy cheeks. His grin grows, spreading to either side of his face, reminiscent of a cheshire cat. 

Satisfied with what you’ve given him, he plants a kiss at the center of your forehead, and you curse yourself for melting into it. It’s the last act of physical kindness he gives it, because he’s instantly gripping your hips, hiking your legs up around his waist, and fucking you with no mercy. 

You cum with the sound of Ethan’s balls slapping against your skin, mixed in an almost beautiful harmony with your quiet sobs and the unabashed squelching of your cunt around his cock, a cacophonous edge to the sounds that perfectly represents your relationship with Ethan himself.

[yanderes-galore]

Is it possible for you to make a harem/poly main 6 that got infected with the Virus and they are all yandere for the Darling now? As in a general concept of how it happened and how it's going basically if you can, thank you!

This deals with a lot of characters so it will be a general overview. Sorry it isn't long... I struggle with multiple characters.

Main Story Concepts: Twilight, Fluttershy, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Rarity

Side Story Concepts: Cadance, Queen Chrysalis

Yandere Virus! Mane Six Concept - Patient Zero

(Short Aftermath Idea)

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possessive behavior, Yandere virus, Feral/Animalistic behavior, Overprotective behavior, Mind break, Dark themes, Forced relationship(s) implied.

This concept is essentially a recap/aftermath concept.

By this time the Mane Six are infected, Rarity eventually succumbing just like the rest of them.

So now you have six overprotective/possessive ponies surrounding you wherever you go.

I imagine they originally fight with one another, assuming one is going to hurt you.

We've seen something similar in the Rainbow and Pinkie concepts.

Although... eventually they realize they all like you just as much.

They vaguely know it's due to the virus but they can barely focus on anything else right now.

The virus drives them all closer to you... so to soothe all their desperation, they agree to share.

We see this in the Cadance concept which was meant as a loose continuation.

They're like a pack, six infected ponies all animalistic in nature.

They aren't like themselves anymore.

They've neglected themselves... They're nearly feral...

By the conclusion of this curse, Ponyville is a messy wasteland.

Twilight is barely even able to comprehend what she's done... She wanted you all to herself...

This isn't your fault...

This is hers.

However... Even with her personal feelings and the virus flooding her system... She doesn't mind sharing.

If Twilight were to share her beloved with anypony, it would be the Mane Six.

They... sorta have their same hobbies.

Twilight speaks to you of spells she's reading, you silently hope she's looking for a cure but you doubt it.

Fluttershy takes you on walks through the woods, although the animals keep running from the both of you....

Applejack and Pinkie Pie both try to make you food to care for you.

Rainbow Dash acts as a bodyguard, racing around to make sure no pony gets any ideas.

All while Rarity makes you little outfits like usual.

They all love you, they all play their part...

But you don't see them as your friends anymore.

By the end of this journey you're exhausted, you've given up.

You've accepted the fact you're a Harbinger of obsession and disease.

You want to resent Twilight... But you can't hate all of them.

Twilight may have caused it... Yet you made it worse.

Perhaps this is what you deserve.

To be surrounded by destruction and the obsessive desires of your friends.

You don’t consider them friends... Or anything more.

You want this all to end but wherever you go... The curse follows.

You feel tethered to Ponyville.

After all... If you don't stay here, you'll only cause more trouble.

You tolerate it... Even though you hate it...

You want other ponies safe... So you listen and stay away from other ponies.

You stay with the Mane Six...

They'll take care of you... They care.

You're given love, affection, all of it... even if it's artificially sweet.

You accept your fate... which is why fear pools in your stomach when you see a certain pink alicorn enter Ponyville.

You try your best not to be found...

For the sake of not only you... But the rest of Equestria... You do not need to be saved.

[jay-pones]

Known Infection Totals to Date in Largest Population Centers and Original Infection Site:

Ponyville: 10

Canterlot: 2

Manehattan: 26

Text from page under the cut

Twilight Sparkles Notes:

Marrow Bloom - 9 Days After Market Attack

Discord has been keeping Fluttershy quarantined since the attack.

I wish he would use this spell on the others but he can't be everywhere at once.

He only lets her out of the ward spell to clean her and remove the flowers.

Her skin is so delicate. Scrub too hard and it comes off.

The ward is only slowing the effects a little bit...

SAMPLES

We have collected blood and plant samples from various ponies.

Fully bloomed flower was pulled from Cheerilee.

DECEASED

Control blood sample was generously given by Rarity.

Sample A - Fluttershy

Sample B - Cheerilee

Both heavily contaminated by sap.

Page Two:

Dr. Fauna - Stage 4

The town guards found her at the animal sanctuary. She had killed every animal that did not escape.

A few animals were blooming but most were just dead.

Roots are starting to reach for the ground and he is exhibiting a behavior we have dubbed "STAR GAZING"

She is also bleeding a lot but doesn't seem to be affected. Some of the doctors believe the sap from the flowers is sustaining her.

She doesn't have long...

CHEERILEE

Died from her wounds at stage 3 but the bloom progressed to stage 4 anyway.

Based on the scans of her head it seems the blooms do not cause the madness that occurs at later stages.

We theorize that the sap may be the cause due to the roots not breaking through the skull cavity.

Hopefully we can use what we learned from Cheerilee to come up with an effective treatment.

[basilbots]

That's it? That's the conclusion for these characters? That was just retroactively making multiple arcs feel pointless.

So they killed Nexus. Not really a surprise, but not any less disappointing. We have Nexus' entire story now, and it is extremely unsatisfying, New Moon having so much promise and an interesting direction for his character only for that same character to be quickly assassinated for the sake of Old Moon returning. Full rant undercut. Primarily making this just to vent out a lot (but not all because there's too much to talk about) of my feelings regarding Nexus.

Let's start with just New Moon, I'm going to admit I did not like the concept of him first. But not actually because I disliked NM as a character, but because Old Moon's death bothered me. It felt like OM was so bad that they didn't want to go through the effort of having him improve, so he was killed off instead so he didn't have to do any of that, escaping responsibility. We'll get back to that point later. However NM itself was fun, and I especially enjoyed seeing all the struggles that came from OM's existence how it influenced his relationship with Sun how NM tried so hard to not be like him while also having to fill that role.

And then Solar died, and New Moon spiraled in his grief. He was devastated, he felt like he had to fix it, nightmares and hallucinations prevented him from moving on, and he understandably lashed out at the others when they tried to stop him for a reason that boiled down to "but killing is bad though". Let it be clear that yes yelling at his family was bad and hurt them, but painful arguments in family esp when fueled by grief like this is a normal thing, and tbh nothing NM said was worse than things OM had done not out of grief but just out of anger. Which makes the fact this was treated as a huge deal that meant NM was being cut out of the family for worrying, and later on EXTREMELY worrying when they pushed the idea of KILLING him. What the fuck. For what, because he was Planning on doing something morally grey that Unintentionally could have greater spanning consequences? You can't just stop him normally we have multiple characters pushing for murder when we just established that murder is bad? This whole execution of NM being terrible and so big a threat that killing him was on the table is so forced and rushed, I hoped it was just a fumble of an execution to get to Nexus who would have a better arc, but now I can't help but feel that they were just trying to get rid of NM regardless of if it made sense. Because at this point he hadn't really done anything to warrant this, not up until the last moment when he didn't care about Earth being in the line of fire, which we immediately see him regretting in the next ep until Dark Sun comes along and any regret has "mysteriously" vanished.

Dark Sun is a great example of Nexus' development being littered with hints that things are not as they seem and that Nexus' downward spiral is being influenced by something,,, which never gets seriously addressed as to why Nexus happened. From the start NM's descent is called sudden and extreme, we see Dark Sun obviously manipulate the situation to make this all happen, we see Nexus' head literally being messed with by Dark Sun, Nexus starts messing with a power known to be corrupting, etc. Is any of this ever treated as a potential reason or Nexus' behavior? Nope! He's just evil sorry. We shot down the idea of a virus or Rex infecting him while pointedly ignoring nsp potentially affecting his mental state or Dark Sun clearly manipulating him. Let's just ignore how much this switch up doesn't make sense because we need to make Nexus feel irredeemable and that he did all this himself for Old Moon to come back.

Because oh yeah Old Moon came and even though he sucks he became the better option even before Nexus did anything because ??? it's been a long time so we have all forgotten how bad you were. Mr beats his brother regularly, literally threatened to murder Sun for not being able to control Eclipse, last moments with Sun was trapping him in a box and wrecking his mental state further. Yeah that guy has been treated as better than New Moon ever since NM yelled at Sun and Earth y'know when he had barely done shit. The point I made about how I felt like Old Moon's death was a way for him to get out of improving himself? Yeah that's validated now, because OM is successfully doing that even more egregiously than I feared originally. He literally got to swoop in as the better option not because he had actually improved himself, but because time has made us forget how bad he was and Nexus is being cartoonishly evil in comparison. I hate this. And now with Nexus dead and Old Moon for sure staying around I can't help but feel like New Moon's existence was,,, pointless. A year's worth of character development from one of our main protagonists down the drain because it was all just a buffer of NM doing the work of improving as a brother for OM. New Moon's gone and Old Moon has taken his place as totally improved Moon brother, but we've swapped out the identity struggle with NM to OM failing to not be a dick to Sun multiple times. But this has yet to be addressed because it's small potatoes and unlike with Nexus he's only doing this to Sun so who cares right? I would say New Moon's personal issues also end up never addressed, but they do actually! All of his fears regarding his place in the family came true, but he's dead so who is going to talk about that now.

I could go on about how much Nexus did not do enough to earn his death, that having Nexus' main targets being Ruin and Old Moon while he didn't hurt his family nearly as much did the opposite of make him feel irredeemable, that Moon being the main protagonist pushing for Nexus to die while everyone else had conflicted feelings did not make me cheer for Moon it made me want to see Sun punch him, but I'm going to refrain and focus on how Nexus' being dead and gone ruins arcs for me. So New Moon was pointless and just a set up to make Old Moon look better when he came back, but surely Nexus did something for Dark Sun's plans? ... Dark Sun didn't have any plan beyond making Sun kill Nexus, and left with an air of finality that even for a chronic liar makes me doubt he'll come back in the capacity I want him to? Oh. So the Nexus arc didn't have a point either, and Dark Sun feels lackluster if this was really it. Nexus was just a spare Moon for Sun to kill against his will, and since Dark Sun doesn't seem interested in using that as a way to personally manipulate Sun further into hating Moon's or anything like that Sun is just going to be sad he killed his brother… Just like he was when Old Moon originally died. If I were to be extremely pessimistic and oversimplifying things I'd say this just further proves New Moon shouldn't have been a thing at all, they should have just waited a bit for OM to be revived after he died to have this same effect with Sun mourning.

The thing that will (just barely) save New Moon/Nexus for me, the thing I wanted to wait to see the follow up for (before I realized this rant was too long already and got impatient), is how his death personally affects the characters. All of them. He needs to haunt the narrative for the rest of the story just like Old Moon was doing. Nexus was not just an antagonist, he was not just the obligatory villain of the arc that got fumbled as has happened before, he was our main character for a year, he was their brother for a year, and he should be remembered as such. The family should remember their young brother that they failed (because they do admit they made mistakes with Nexus even if it wasn't the leading cause to his fall) who will never come back, and he should not be completely forgotten in a months time just because Old Moon is here to be the good Moon brother now and Nexus died a villain. If no one cares to remember him, who he was, then what was the point of him?

[thatnonameuser]

I got an ask for a Lovesick MC, so I’m making a Lovesick disease to show you guys before I finish that ask.

In the yandereverse, Lovesickness is an actual disease.

Known as Amoromania Afflictio or, in layman’s terms, Lovesick Syndrome, the disease is a darling-exclusive disease. As yandere behavior is genetic, darling behavior is too. And while yanderes are naturally immune to lovesickness, darlings aren’t and can frequently catch lovesickness. 

The disease can either be contracted through a natural infection, or through a botched love potion. 

Natural Infection - Through a virus known as Amorfluxivirus. Can be contacted through fluids and extremely close contact with yanderes who can sometimes be carriers for the disease (vaccinations are a preventative measure to protect darlings). 

Botched Love Medication - If a love potion, serum or other medication was made incorrectly or administered incorrectly, a medication can mimic the natural virus. This is the safest and most common way a darling can catch lovesickness, because it has a predetermined timer, ending usually after two week.

Symptoms of Amoromania Afflictio

Early Stages, Infatuation Stage ( Day 1 through 3)

Fever

Flushed cheeks

Inability to focus

Increased attraction to and fixation on anyone offering attention or compliments.

Mid Stages, Adoration Stage ( Days 4 through 9)

Heightened emotional and physical sensitivity to touch and affection

Increased libido.

Rapid attachment to the most affectionate person present.

Extreme emotional swings, from euphoric adoration to despair when affection is withheld.

If ignored, the darling is prone to crying, restlessness and panic.

Late Stage, Obsession Stage (Days 10 through 14)

Unstable heart rate caused by mood swings due to intense emotional highs and lows.

Detachment from previous infatuations upon encountering stronger emotional stimuli.

Hallucinations of romantic scenarios involving multiple individuals simultaneously.

Episodes of panic and sorrow when separated from whoever provides them with stimuli.

If the darling is emotionally neglected or rejected repeatedly, their body begins producing excessive amounts of stress hormones, leading to physical symptoms like chest pain, shortness of breath, and irregular heartbeats.

Terminal Stage, Heartbreak / Decline Stage (Days 15+) 

Heartbreak-induced cardiomyopathy ("Broken Heart Syndrome").

Emotional overstimulation leading to seizures or collapse.

Fatal arrhythmias or heart failure if left untreated.

Treatment

Isolation - To prevent the romantic attachments from forming, a darling’s familial and platonic relations will isolate them alone. Removing the darling from overly affectionate environments helps prevent extreme attachment and detachment stress.

Antiviral Medication - Medication meant to treat Amoromania Afflictio

Regulated Affection Therapy - Controlled doses of non-romantic affection from trusted individuals to prevent the syndrome from spiraling.

Cardiac Support - Medications to manage heart stress and prevent fatal arrhythmias.

Prevention

Strict regulation of love potions and affection-enhancing drugs.

Early diagnosis through routine emotional regulation tests in darlings.

Personal protective measures such as avoiding overexposure to obsessive personalities.

Darlings who catch Lovesick Syndrome are often seen as tragic figures in society, evoking both pity and fear. Some yanderes take advantage of the disease. To them, it’s a competition to prove which yandere loves the darling the most. But this makes the condition worse, because it makes treating it very difficult.

Because the syndrome is most frequently caused by love medications, the manufacturers are very careful when it comes to manufacturing them. 

Lovesickness can’t be immunized to darlings because it has the possibility to ensure that the darling can’t feel affection for yanderes if they’re given prevention cures. But many yanderes are immunized once they are registered to make sure they can’t be carriers to darlings.

[tomahachi12]

oooh what was the AU's story?

pretty much, a weird virus started going around that affected the Disassembly Drones and Solver Worker Drones.

Once a drone caught it, it would slowly cause them to turn “feral”, changing their minds and bodies to become more “animalistic”. It would also make them highly aggressive toward other DDrones and Solver infected Worker Drones.

The virus attaches to the Solver code and causes these changes.

One of my OC’s, T, caught it originally and spread it to N, who then spread it to my other OC, Y.

Y was able to create an antivirus that curbed the aggressive behavior, but didn’t stop the changes.

Uzi and V are trying to figure out a way to get them back to normal. Somewhere along the way, J somehow becomes infected as well, so then they had to deal with that.

there’s not a really a story here, since it was mainly just a concept.

I just wanted to share cause they’re fun to draw this way, especially J.

[doomhands-jr]

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 7

Pairing: Delinquent!Noah Sebastian X Pastor's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Angst, religious guilt, mentions of religious trauma, mentions of masturbation. Mentions of anti-choice propaganda.

Masterlist

Banner by @flowerynerds

Authors note: Maybe grab a cup of tea for this one.

_________

Noah Davis didn’t like to think of his actions in terms of morality. He understood that right and wrong were subjective. That life didn’t exist in binaries of good vs. evil, and that things like virtue and righteousness weren’t so easily defined. 

That didn’t mean there weren’t some steadfast rules he followed: 

Do his best to act in a way that aligns with his internal moral compass

Reduce harm much as possible

Do what’s best for the collective, while still keeping his best interests in mind

That line of thinking has served him well over the course of his lifetime. He’d freed himself from moral obligations and had done what he truly felt was best, and in doing so, he was able to walk through life with his head held high, standing by his actions. 

The idea that some of his behavior was sinful had not entered his mind since he formally left the church. 

But now, as he laid in bed, recovering from the tsunami of brain chemicals that just flooded his system, he felt like a sinner . 

The sin coursed through his body, sick and bittersweet. It flowed through his veins, infecting his cells and rotting his bones like a poison. Like a drug. 

He scrubbed a hand over his face, clammy palm meeting clammy forehead, cock still twitching with the aftershock. 

He’d expected you to put up more of a fight. He’d banked on you shutting him down, batting him away and telling him to behave himself, but you’d walked so willingly into his snare, so eager and needy, offering up yourself on a platter with almost no hesitation. 

It was a vile thing that you brought out of Noah. An ugly, profane creature that lurked in the shadows of his soul. He’d been aware of its existence in his periphery. It had been a sleeping beast. One he’d hoped he’d never have to contend with. 

But now? It had taken its first shuddering breath, and with it, thrown down its gauntlet. Its demand? You—not as a partner, but as a sacrifice. Sprawled out on an altar for it to consume and defile. To claim for the sake of hubris. 

Noah longed to find a way to cleanse himself—confess his sins and pray the rosary. Baptize himself in holy water. Take communion and walk forth a forgiven man. Would that be enough? 

War had been waged within Noah, and the odds were stacked against him. He was David, standing at the feet of Goliath. Jonah, staring down the gullet of the whale. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and the image of you at the apex of pleasure flashed across his vision. You’d made that offering to him. It was sacred. He’d cherish it for the rest of his life.  

_______

Noah had no holy water available to him to wash his sins away. He did have a hot shower, though, and at least that was a start. 

Turning on the water, he allowed the steam to gather in clouds around his bathroom. His skin had grown sticky with sweat, and his shoulders ached. As soon as he stepped under the spray, the tension began to dissipate. 

He pressed his forehead against the cool tile wall and allowed the stream to trickle down his back. 

He had a duty to himself—and to you. There was no denying his affection for you, but therein lied a glaring problem: you were ready for more. You deserved more. You deserved to push past these boundaries of purity and explore who you were outside of faith, and that made you vulnerable. Because whatever sickness lived inside Noah was itching to exploit that vulnerability. Not for your benefit, but for its own.

“Help me figure this out,” he whispered against the shower wall. It was a prayer in the most ironic sense. He wasn’t sure if he even believed in what he was praying to, but without any other ideas, it felt like the right thing to do. “I don’t want to hurt her, but I’m afraid.” 

He received nothing but silence in response. 

He scoffed at his own actions. What did he expect? Divine understanding? 

He grabbed the soap, lathering it up before scrubbing it over his disgusting, unclean body. Why did he even bother? He learned long ago that nobody was going to save him but himself. If he wanted his demons to die, he’d have to be the one to kill them. 

________

On a snowy Sunday morning, Noah didn’t have a church to attend, but he did have a pair of work boots, a heavy coat, and a trail through the woods that allowed him to commune with nature. 

He also had a pre-roll he stole from Nick, which he cupped against his jacket to light. It took a few tries. The wind wasn’t biting, but it was present, and it flickered the flame in his lighter. He eventually got it lit though, and he took a deep drag, holding the smoke in his lungs and waiting for it to take effect. 

Exhaling slowly through his nose, he closed his eyes to focus on the high setting in. His body began to lift, a warm, cloudy, hollow feeling expanding out from his chest to his limbs, and ten minutes later, the joint was spent and Noah was intricately connected to the forest around him.

He walked on the trail, delighting in the way the frozen leaves crunched under his boots. He forgot his gloves again, so he stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked. 

You were probably in church right now. Might even be on stage leading the praise and worship music alongside Isaac, where you were safe. 

No, that wasn’t true. You deserved more than the life you’d find within the church. If you stayed put, you’d eventually find yourself on the arm of some 30-something with a trust fund and a perfect attendance record at Sunday school. You’d have to hide who you were from society, pretending to fit in where you didn’t belong. 

Noah dug his nails into the palms of his hands. He wanted you to have more than that, but he wasn’t the right person to give it to you. At least not in his current state. 

Giving up the idea of you was painful, yes. But it also gave him time to figure out how to contend with the ugly parts of himself. If he could let go of his desire for you, then he wouldn’t have to risk that part of him taking over. He could lock it back into the cage he’s kept it in for so many years and continue on in life as if nothing had ever happened. 

He’d never have to know that hunger again. 

He breathed in deep, allowing the frigid air to sting his lungs and throat. It wasn’t painful enough for him. He needed to toil and sweat and suffer to repent for his sins. He picked up his pace, letting his feet fall heavy onto the ground. Within a few minutes, his heart rate sped up, lungs stretching to accommodate his increased need for oxygen. All systems firing to pump fresh blood through his body. 

That helped. Maybe he could sweat the fever out. Force the toxicity to exit through carbon dioxide and leave it as an offering to the forest so it can convert it back to oxygen. 

He broke out into a run, thinking back to the time he caught you running in the rain and wondering if you’d been seeking the same energetic cleanse. 

You’d cried in his arms that night. 

He slowed his pace, down from a run to a jog. 

It was the first time he’d noticed something wrong—the first time he sensed that his control was slipping. 

A stray root caught his foot and he fell hard to the ground, catching himself with his palms and knees. He stayed there for a moment to assess his body and see if any damage had occurred, and when he found none, he rolled onto his back and laid in the snow and mud, stretching his arms and legs to the side and creating a snow angel. 

The snow fell lightly, catching on his eyelashes. He stuck out his tongue, allowing the tiny flakes to melt upon contact and tasting the nothingness of it all. 

He closed his eyes, and he was thirteen again. A nude magazine lay open on his floor. He’d just finished masturbating for the third time that day. Sobbing, he grabbed the leather belt hanging over his desk chair and whipped himself across the back with it. Harder this time than last. Perhaps with enough pain, he would learn his lesson. 

He bunched a shirt up and stuffed it into his mouth, biting down hard to muffle himself as he wept. God surely wouldn’t forgive him again after this. He would be sent to hell for being so unclean. 

For months, he’d tried to break this disgusting habit, but it was to no avail. He was sick and perverted, and lacked the self-control he needed to resist temptation.  

He didn’t want to go to confessional. He didn’t want to have to hear his priest’s disappointed voice telling him to say ten hail-marys. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath in, noticing how the icy air stabbed at his lungs. He didn’t want to dwell too long on that memory. He could already feel his throat constricting. 

It wasn’t until he befriended Ruffilo that he realized he wasn’t uniquely perverted. Ruffilo hadn’t been raised in a church. He talked about porn as if it was something exciting, rather than shameful. He’d been the first one to bring up the subject of masturbation, making casual comments and jokes about how often he got himself off. 

Ruffilo’s world—a world without shame—had been a foreign concept to Noah. After being exposed to it, he realized that faith and freedom were mutually exclusive. There was no way to balance the two, so he chose freedom and never looked back. 

Noah’s fingers found a frozen leaf. He caressed the edges, feeling how smooth they were and remembered brushing bits of leaves off your coat that time you’d jumped in the leaf pile. He remembered how you gasped when his frigid hands ghosted over the nape of your neck. He could have cut the tension with a knife. 

He couldn’t go back to the church. There was too much pain there to revisit. He cut off that part of him a long time ago, back when believing in God meant engaging in his own self-destruction. 

Being with you meant dipping his toes back in the water of religion. You and faith were a package deal. He knew that. You weren’t going to give it up any time soon, and certainly not for him. 

He closed his eyes again and felt the sting of saltwater. He wasn’t going to cry. He’d done enough of that in his adolescence. But the feelings were there, and they weren’t going to let him off the hook without being felt. 

It was you or self-preservation.

He inhaled deeply and forced himself back up, turning to start the long trek back to town. A conversation needed to be had. 

________

There was no priest to whom he could confess his sins, but there was Folio, and late on a Sunday afternoon, he could be found stoned in his room. 

“I fucked up,” he announced, standing in the doorway.

Nick was on his bed, controller in his hands and headset on. From where Noah stood, he couldn’t see the screen, but he guessed his friend was mowing down enemies in Call of Duty. 

“In the middle of something,” he said. “Give me a few.” 

Noah invited himself into the room and sat in Nick’s desk chair, observing the décor. Nick decorated his walls with posters of women in various states of undress. Some of them were holding fish. Others were posed on top of cars. 

His fishing rod and tackle box rested in the corner next to his desk. An electric drum kit lined the far wall. Clothes were strewn about the room, along with drumsticks, food wrappers, and half-empty water bottles. A few cans of beer spilled out of the overfull trash can. On the nightstand sat an ashtray with the spent ends of several blunts stuffed in the center. 

Quite the confessional booth. 

“What’s up?” he said, taking his headset off and turning his attention to Noah. 

“I fucked up,” Noah repeated. 

Nick blinked twice, but made no other movement. “Okay,” he said. “In what way?” 

“You already know.” 

“The pastor’s daughter?” Nick guessed, tilting his head lower to stare at Noah through furrowed brows. “Did you fuck her?” His tone was accusatory, and deservedly so. 

Noah shook his head. “Not exactly.” 

Nick turned on his bed to face Noah head-on. “What did you do?” 

Noah deliberated over exactly how much to tell his friend. What happened between the two of you last night was private and he didn’t want to share your business with someone else unless you said it was okay, but he needed to get some things off his chest. 

“So,” he began, taking a deep breath and shaking his head. “I think I need to stay away from her for a while. I’ve got some stuff to sort out and until I do, I might hurt her.” 

Nick gave himself time to fully process what Noah had just said. He inhaled deeply through his nose, letting his eyes drift away from Noah and relaxing his focus as he mulled it over. 

“You really care about her?” he asked. 

Noah nodded. 

“Want me to stay away from her, too?” It was an honest question, and Noah was suddenly struck with how much his friends cared about him. 

Noah squeezed and relaxed his hands a few times to increase circulation in his fingers. They were still cold from his walk. 

“No, actually. If anything, I think you’d be a really good influence for her. She could use someone like you.” 

Nick’s eyebrows pulled up in the center. He tilted his head to the side. “Why do you say that?” 

“She needs to have more fun,” he said. “She’s been repressed for a really long time and I think she’s ready to break out of that and live life.” 

Nick’s eyes went wide and he  pointed to his chest. “And you want me to be the one to help with that?” 

Noah didn’t want Nick to do that. The last thing he wanted was to see you enjoying yourself without him, but if it was between that and you staying miserable under the church’s influence, he at least wanted you to be happy. 

“I think you’d be good for her,” he said, working hard to make sure he didn’t sound bitter at all. 

“What if I fuck her?” he asked, his momentary sincerity seemingly over. 

Noah’s face dropped. “Don’t fuck her.” 

“But what if I do?” 

Noah clenched his jaw, grinding his molars together as he steadied himself. He knew Nick didn’t mean anything by it. He was just being himself and trying to rile Noah up, but Noah wasn’t about to give in. 

“Then make sure you’re on the same page with her about what it means. Don’t lead her on.” 

Nick chewed on his tongue. “Where is all this coming from?” He asked. “Why do you think you’ll hurt her?” 

“I guess,” Noah said, picking at a bit of dead skin on his lip, “It’s sort of just a gut feeling? I don’t know how to describe it, but there’s something in there that tells me I gotta sort myself out before I get involved with anyone.” 

Nick blinked up at his friend, softening. “I didn’t realize you were so serious about her.” 

“I don’t know what I feel,” said Noah. “I just need some time to figure that out.” 

“You okay?” he asked, hand coming up to scratch an itch at the back of his neck. 

Noah nodded. “I will be,” he said. It was true, he would be okay eventually. He was sure of that. He’d survived worse than this. He just needed to figure out what the best course of action would be. 

Nick’s eyes flicked back to the paused game on the screen. “So you’re saying it’s cool if I fuck her then?” he said. 

Nick could be a real asshole at times. He was abrasive by nature. Many found his personality overwhelming, but the ones who stuck around knew that he was an antagonist, not to be mean, but to challenge people—coax them out of their comfort zones and force them to confront their triggers. He wasn’t always right, and he often stuck his own foot in his mouth, but when he was right, he was so right, it made up for all the other times. 

This time, however, he used his skill to diffuse the tension. 

“Man, fuck you,” said Noah, slapping the ash tray off the end table. It tipped over sideways and spilled its contents onto Nick’s bed, coating his sheets with ash and spent roaches. 

“Bro!” Nick shouted, but Noah was already out of the room, hissing to himself with laughter, and Nick was too couch locked to chase him. 

________

“Noah said to tell you he’s sorry. He got called in for overtime again,” Nick said as he walked into the community center seven minutes late. 

Your heart sank. Not just because you wouldn’t get to see Noah, but because he could have easily texted this information to you himself. 

It was as you’d suspected. Noah was avoiding you.

Over the course of the week, you’d grown more and more stressed. Sunday was fine. You’d woken up feeling well rested, having dreamt of Noah throughout the night. At church, you couldn’t focus on any of the sermon because you were too consumed reliving the previous night. 

Monday came and went with no word from Noah. You thought for sure he would have texted you to say hi or check up on you. Some sort of acknowledgement that the dynamic between the two of you had shifted. But you’d also heard it was customary to wait three days. 

So you waited. 

By Wednesday, your patience had grown thin. You’d given him the benefit of the doubt, wondering if maybe he was nervous and waiting for you to reach out, so you had, sending him a casual hey . 

He never responded. You’d been checking your phone religiously over the course of the week, but it had been radio silence on his end. 

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” You kept a straight face and a steady voice while you spoke, but it took effort. “We’re supposed to be shoveling snow today but since there’s only us, I’m going to veto that.” 

Nick sighed in relief. “Thank god . I wasn’t built for the cold.” 

“Get inside,” you nodded towards the doors. “We’ll start with windows.” 

He offered up a salute and bounded through the doors, eager to escape the cold. 

As Nick got to work, you processed this information. 

Noah’s silence was deafening. 

Was this your punishment? Was God unhappy with your behavior and was this his way of letting you know? 

An element to this was fitting. This was the cost, you realized. This was the price you paid for giving into temptation. 

A bitter laugh escaped under your breath. 

Was the church right about everything? Was there a reason you shouldn’t fall into temptation? 

Maybe Hell did exist—and it wasn’t a lake of fire, but the absence of Heaven after you’d already tasted it.  

Even after everything, you probably would still have done it all over again if you had the opportunity. He’d introduced you to a part of yourself that had been dormant for a long time and for that, you were grateful. 

But the price was steep. 

Your biggest regret was that you hadn’t even gotten to touch him before it was all over. You felt so stupid. Why couldn’t you have held out a little longer? Resisted temptation until you had him fully within your grasp? 

But then again, perhaps the loss of him would be even more painful, wouldn’t it? 

You sighed and stretched your arms up, resting your forearms on your head as you observed Nick spraying down the windows with cleaner. 

You could get through this. It would be hard, but it was within your grasp. People have survived much worse. In the grand scheme of things, this heartache was minor. It would hurt for a while, but eventually you’d recover and life would go on. 

It was just a matter of getting to the other side. 

You wanted to remember this pain. Savor the full impact and hopefully this would be the only time you needed to learn this lesson. You’d grow, heal, and move on a better and stronger version of yourself. 

Eventually. 

Right now, you needed to focus on the task at hand: overseeing community service without getting yourself into any more trouble. And that’s what you were going to do.  ________

That did prove to be a tougher job than you anticipated. Nick was charismatic as ever and kept trying to get your attention. 

You’d throw him a bone every once in a while, if only because it genuinely did lift your spirits to be around him. He was a much safer presence. 

“How many weeks do I have left?” 

You were strewn across the back pew, doing your best not to wallow, but failing pretty spectacularly, when Nick’s voice broke you out of your ruminations. 

“I’m not sure,” you said, sitting up and looking at him. He leaned casually against the back of the pew, rag thrown over his shoulder. His fingers tapped a rhythm on the wood. “I have it written down somewhere. I’d have to look.” 

“Can you let me know next week?” he asked, bouncing on his heels. You could see what attracted Ava to him so much. 

“Yeah.” 

“Or actually, maybe this Friday. Isn’t that when your Christmas thing is?” 

You blinked stupidly up at him. You’d forgotten all about the upcoming showcase. 

“Oh, yeah. It is. I didn’t realize you knew about it.” 

“Yeah,” he said, and then shifted on his feet as if he was trying to figure out a way to avoid saying that Noah told him about it. Which would mean that Nick was also aware of the awkwardness between the two of you. 

“Were you thinking of going?” you asked. “You don’t have to.” 

“I thought it might be fun to see you sing,” he said, voice soft and lips smiling.  

You were momentarily taken aback. You didn’t think Nick cared about anything you were doing. The thought that he might be interested in your life outside of community service was one that hadn’t crossed your mind. 

“Really?” you asked. 

He looked side to side and nodded, as if it should have been obvious to you. 

“Nick, that would mean so much. I would love for you to come.” 

“Good,” he said, a self-satisfied smile back on his face. “But try not to suck or I won’t be donating anything.” 

You snorted loudly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“Anytime.” 

The conversation died down, and you could feel the elephant in the room rearing its head. 

You could ask how Noah was doing. It wouldn’t be too out-of-character. But you’d give yourself away easily if you did. 

Besides, nothing good would come of it. If Noah wanted to contact you, he would. If he didn’t, then he was just someone you needed to get over. 

Nick lingered, just as hesitant to leave the conversation. 

“You doin’ okay?” he asked. 

You sighed, leaning into the back of the pew. “Yeah,” you said. “I’m fine.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked. 

You rolled your head across the pew to look over at him. His face held a neutral expression, but there was softness in his eyes. 

“Maybe some other time,” you said. “Thank you, though.” 

“No problem,” he said. “I’m here if you need me.” He punctuated it with a squeeze to your shoulder and your hand came up to clasp over his on its own accord. He was warm, and truth be told, you really needed the gesture. 

Perhaps you’d be okay. 

_______

“And there were no signs prior to this?” 

“No,” you said, collapsing on Ava’s bed while she worked on her Contemporary Art project from her desk. It looked like a big lump of Styrofoam. She held a strip of sandpaper, rubbing it back and forth over a corner and causing little pieces to flake off and litter the desk and floor beneath her. 

“And neither of you talked beforehand about what it would mean?” 

“No,” you grumbled, recognizing your first mistake. You absolutely should have talked about what it meant for the both of you before doing anything, and you can’t understand why you’d been so foolish to skip over that. “It just sort of…happened?” 

Ava fixed you with an imploring stare. 

“Babe, I’m really sorry that you got hurt, but. I don’t know,” she began. “Aren’t you always the one preaching about that kind of thing? It seems like you could have used a little bit of your own advice, don’t you think?” 

You turned over and let out a loud groan into Ava’s pillow. 

“Not helping.” 

“I know, I know. That was probably insensitive. I just,” she trailed off, turning back to her project. “Maybe this was a lesson you needed to learn? Not to look down on others for the things they struggle with. And maybe also to recognize that we’re all human. We’re all sinners. Even you?” 

You pouted. “You really think I needed to learn that?” 

“You’ve been known to judge in the past.” 

“I’ve been better about that!” you said, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“I know,” she said. “I know you have.” She pouted back at you. “Maybe I’m not the best person for this kind of talk.” 

You sighed, crossing your arms over your stomach. “No, you’re fine. I think I’m just feeling sorry for myself is all.” 

Ava got up from her desk, brushing as many Styrofoam flakes from her clothes as she could, and crawled into her bed with you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. You melded into her touch. “You’re allowed to feel hurt. He did send you mixed signals.” 

“What about you and Nick?” you asked. She chewed on her lip for a moment. 

“Nick and I…we talked about it beforehand. We knew it was just for that night going into it.” She rested her chin on your shoulder. 

“You didn’t want to pursue anything more?” 

Ava shrugged beside you. “Neither of us is looking for anything.” 

You leaned your head on her shoulder. It would have been nice had you had the same disposition going into the encounter with Noah. You could have just enjoyed it for what it was and then went your separate ways without any complicated feelings. You admired Ava’s ability to do that. 

“You’re right,” you said. “We should have talked about it beforehand. Made sure we were on the same page.” 

You turned to bury your face in her shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut to keep any tears from escaping. 

“It doesn’t always work out that way,” she said. “Don’t judge yourself for your mistakes.” 

She stroked your back as you failed to prevent your eyes from leaking. “Is it okay if I cry on you?” you asked, voice muffled by her shirt, a stray piece of Styrofoam finding its way into your mouth. 

“Babe, of course. I’m here for you.” 

You nodded into her shoulder, allowing the first of many sobs to fall. She continued to stroke your back, soothing you as you wept. 

It hurt. You’d trusted Noah to care for you. You never would have believed him to be the type to get what he wants and then not call. 

Plus, he still had five weeks of community service (you’d checked), and there wasn’t any way he could get out of that. 

“How am I supposed to face him on Saturday?” you whined. 

“Hmmm,” she said. “Is Folio talking to you?” 

“Yeah,” you sniffed. “He’s actually been really nice.” 

“What if you just talk to him? Use him as a distraction so you don’t have to talk to Noah. Who knows? Maybe having fun with him would help you move on.” 

You pulled away to look at her. 

“You mean like…?” you trailed off. 

She laughed. “I’m not saying have sex with the guy,” she said. “I doubt he’d do that since Noah’s like, his best friend. But he’s a good guy and he’s fun to be around. And you could use that kind of energy in your life.” 

You sniffled again and let your head drop back down to rest on her, spitting out another fleck of Styrofoam. It truly was everywhere. 

You doubted that hanging out with Nick would help you get over Noah. If anything, it would just remind you of him. But you did need more friends in your life, and he was someone you could see yourself getting along with. 

Perhaps focusing on your friendships would help. You squeezed Ava’s middle. 

“I love you,” you said. “Please be my friend forever.” 

She breathed softly, squeezing you back. “If you play your cards right.” 

______

Friday’s showcase had a much larger turnout than expected. People lined the pews and even stood in the back after all the available seats had been filled. You peeked through one of the side doors that entered onto the stage and saw Nick sitting in a middle row. Ava sat a few rows in front of him. She caught your eye and gave you a big thumbs-up for good luck. 

Your eyes scanned over the crowd, searching for a tall, tattooed figure and coming up short. 

He said he was going to come. He was the one who had pressed you for the information in the first place. 

You looked down at your phone screen. 6:53. He still had seven minutes to make it. 

You exhaled a deep breath and shook your hands out, trying to calm your nerves. 

“Want to pray?” came Isaac’s deep voice to your right. You looked over to find him standing quite close to you. His usual v-neck and beanie had been swapped out for a white button-down and black tie, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was tied neatly in a bun atop his head. 

“Sure,” you breathed, figuring you could use some prayer. 

He grasped your hands in his. His were warm. Steady. They helped to soothe your nerves. 

“God,” he began, “please watch over us and guide us as we work to spread the good news of Jesus’s birth. Let us not falter. Allow our voices to ring true and fall on ears willing to hear. In your name. Amen.” 

“Amen,” you repeated, working hard not to roll your eyes. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the prayer. It was just that Isaac talked as if he were living a hundred years ago, trying his best to sound profound, and you weren’t entirely convinced it was solely for God’s listening pleasure. He was a performer, after all. 

He squeezed your hands, smiling. “Almost time. Are you nervous?” he asked. 

“A little bit,” you said, noticing the discomfort in your gut. 

“Don’t be. You’ve got this. It’s just the one solo and then you’re in the choir for the rest of it.” His thumbs rubbed over the backs of your hands, and you were about to pull your hands away from him, but it actually was quite soothing. He seemed like he genuinely cared about you. And he smelled nice. Some sort of expensive-smelling cologne that was the complete opposite of whatever spiced oil Noah wore, but in a really good, clean way. 

“You look great, by the way,” he added, taking a step back and giving you a once-over. “I like the dress.” 

The dress in question was a high-necked A-line in a bright shade of red to match the holiday theme (Christmas theme, your father would correct you, because apparently no other holidays existed to him). 

You wore a dark green cardigan overtop, along with a gold necklace and black heels. Your lips were painted to match the dress. It was the most dressed-up you’d been since last Christmas. When you chose the outfit, you were still under the impression that a certain tattooed someone would see it. 

“Thanks,” you said. 

You could tell by the way Isaac lingered that he wanted to continue the conversation, but you didn’t feel much like talking. Needing an exit, you excused yourself to go get a drink of water. 

Weaving through other soloists and members of the church choir, you made your way down one of the two hallways that flanked either side of the main sanctuary. You rounded the corner, where one of the members of your church’s worship band—Darian—was passing out programs for the event. 

“Hey! You ready for your solo?” he asked when he saw you. 

You smiled, breathing out a nervous laugh. “Yeah,” you said, scanning the stragglers still arriving for any sign of Noah. 

“I’d be nervous if I was on first,” he said. You took your eyes off the latecomers and looked to find him smiling encouragingly at you. 

“Yeah,” you said, shifting your weight awkwardly. “Isaac insisted for some reason that I open.” 

Your stomach sank even more. You couldn’t see Noah anywhere. 

“He mentioned it was because your song would set the tone for the evening,” said Darian, but you were only half-listening. “Do you want one of these?” 

You looked back at him. “What?”

He held out a program for you to take. “In case you wanted to keep it. For posterity, or scrapbooking or whatever.” 

“Yeah, sure,” you said, grabbing it without really thinking. 

Your emotional bandwidth had been all but used up, chest tight and head foggy. You felt bad that you weren’t really engaging in conversation, or even paying attention to it for that matter, but hoped Darian would forgive you. 

Sensing that you weren’t in the headspace to talk, Darian wished you luck and went back to handing out programs. You thanked him and continued walking across the foyer and down the opposite hallway with no real destination in mind. You were to go on in less than a minute. 

You shook your head, trying to get out of it and into your body. You needed to connect with your voice in order to perform, but you couldn’t seem to steady your breathing. 

The sanctuary was laid out in a rectangle, with the foyer lining the back, hallways with classrooms running the length of either side, and then a room behind the main stage, so from where you stood at the end of the hall, you could see through the windows of the doors to the stage that the lights had dimmed. 

Isaac walked out to the center of the stage from the hallway opposite you. A spotlight appeared on him, and with an abundance of charismatic charm, he thanked the audience that had gathered, before leading them in yet another prayer to bless the evening’s performance and to let God’s will be done. 

Throughout the entirety of his introduction, you’d zoned in and out. Your nerves ate at you, consuming your focus and leaving you feeling detached from your surroundings. 

You’d performed this song a dozen times at least, and in front of much of the same audience, too. You performed every week in front of the congregation on Sundays. Perhaps you’d struggled with stage fright at one point in your life, a decade ago when you were still fairly new to performing, but these days you were at-home in front of a microphone. 

And yet. 

Your knees shook. A cold sweat had broken out on the back of your neck, and your stomach clenched and released several times in quick succession. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please enjoy O Holy Night, performed by my dear personal friend, and co-leader of our praise and worship team,” Isaac began. 

You heard your name being called, snapping you out of the haze. 

The audience applauded. Isaac gestured to the doorway opposite you, where he assumed you would be entering from. 

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and walked to the center of the stage. Isaac turned when he heard the doors open, looking caught off-guard for a moment, but he recovered quickly, gesturing to you and clapping to signal to the audience that they should keep their applause going. 

He slowly backed away and gave you a double thumbs-up before exiting the stage. 

Recognizing you were still holding the program Darian had handed you, you clasped your hands behind your back and stepped up to the microphone. 

The soft piano intro played out over the loud speakers. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply. 

O holy night,  

The stars are brightly shining,  

It is the night of our dear savior’s birth.  

The first note came out shaky. You’d pushed too hard with your diaphragm, allowing more air than was needed to pass through your vocal folds. You closed your eyes and focused on breath control, feeling the spotlight heat your skin. 

Long lay the world 

In sin and error pining  

‘till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.  

Back in the late 1843, a church in the south of France had its organ renovated. After the renovations were complete, the church reached out to a French poet by the name of Placide Cappeau, asking him to write a poem that could be used as a hymn. In response, Cappeau penned the first iteration of O Holy Night.  

Placide Cappeau was a known atheist.  

A thrill of hope. The weary world rejoices  

When the Catholic Church got wind of an atheist creating a Christmas carol, they did their best to bury the song. They claimed it lacked musical flavor. At the time, the idea of all men and women owning souls was highly radical. 

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.  

O Holy Night has since become one of the most popular Christmas carols known to western society, thanks in part to John Sullivan Dwight translating it to English in 1855. 

You knew this, because you’d written a history of the carol for an end-of-semester project back when you went to high school at Calvary Baptist. 

Fall on your knees. O hear the angel voices,  

At the time, you’d wondered how an atheist—someone who, in your mind, stood against everything you stood for, could write such a beautiful song that touched the hearts of you and so many others. 

O night, divine. O night, when Christ was born.  

How could someone with no connection to God write something that so clearly captures the essence of the Holy Spirit?

You chanced a look out at the crowd, once more searching for the familiar face you so wanted to see. The atheist who understood more about Christ’s love than so many in the church ever would, and found no sign of him. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the high note that signaled the climax of the song. 

O night, O holy night. 

Your voice rang out, loud and with a pleasing vibrato you’d finally learned to control three years ago. You paused for effect. The music cut out, and you sang the last line. 

O night divine!  

It was over. You’d done it. The piano melody came back in for the closing notes, and you curtseyed elegantly as the crowd applauded. 

You exited through the same doors you entered, heading straight for the restroom so you could take a moment to yourself before you had to be back on stage in the choir for O Come All Ye Faithful.  

Placing your program on the sink counter, you ran your hands under cool water, intending to splash some on your face when a small blurb on the bottom of the pamphlet caught your eye. 

Collection plates will be passed around. Please help us save countless unborn lives by making a donation. 

Unborn lives. 

Isaac was donating the proceeds to a pro-life organization. 

You’d been unknowingly roped in to an anti-choice fundraiser. 

A wave of anger erupted from deep within you, washing over your entire body and pulsating through it. 

You snatched the program from the counter, storming out the bathroom, across the foyer, and to the adjacent hallway Isaac stood at the end of. 

“What the Hell, Isaac!?” you near-shouted, bounding toward him. 

Isaac’s eyes widened upon your approach. He took several steps back, running into two of the other choir members, but it wasn’t enough. You slammed the program into his sternum. 

“Whoa!” he said, grasping the program you’d thrust at him with one hand and holding the other out to keep you from coming any closer. “Where’s the fire?” 

“What is this?!” you said, stabbing the program on his chest with your finger where the blurb appeared. 

He looked at you bewildered, then down to where your index finger pushed into his chest, and then back to you like you were a mad woman. “We said we wanted to give the proceeds to charity.” 

“Yeah,” you said, ripping the program out of his hand and throwing it down at his feet. “Like a soup kitchen or a toy drive. Not to Life Alliance!” 

Isaac’s eyebrows pulled together in blatant confusion. “What’s better than saving innocent lives?” he said. 

“Oh my God,” you scoffed, not caring whether or not it counted as taking the Lord’s name in vain. 

 Suddenly all the air in the room felt like it had been vacuumed out and you found yourself struggling to breathe. 

Taking a step backwards, it dawned on you that this was your limit. The church had compressed you your entire life, and you’d finally reached your breaking point. “I can’t participate in this.” You said it not to Isaac, but to yourself. “I have to go.” 

“Hey! Hold on,” Isaac said. “You can’t leave. You’re our first soprano. We need you for the high G.” 

You shook your head, turning on your heel. You wouldn’t have been able to hit that note even if you wanted to with how your throat was constricting. 

“We can talk about this. Maybe we can do more than one charity,” he said, but you were already halfway down the hall, tears threatening to spill over. 

The heels you wore made it hard to run down the icy sidewalk, but run you did. Down the sidewalk, down the street. You didn’t stop running until you’d put several blocks between you and the church. 

You’d once thought of it as a sacred place—a home away from home. 

Now, the only time you felt at home in it was on Saturday mornings, sharing the space with two delinquents who didn’t even believe in God. 

Nowhere felt sacred anymore. 

Nowhere except the shed in the backyard of Jolly’s house. But you were cut off from that now, too. 

Where did you belong now?  __________ How are we all feeling after that? Also, if anyone has any artistic skills and would like to help me make a moldboard or a banner or something for this story, I would be forever grateful!

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