#last shitpost of the day i promise

[idliketobeatree]

i'll give you a boop, anywhere you wanna go.

[chipthekeeper]

Happy VELentine's Day, people <3

[engagemythrusters]

have this two-minute ezra to once again remind you he never got to go to school

[queen0funova]

I wonder what ciphers I can run over something that's already had RSA applied to it

[byanyan]

me: my child is completely normal. look at them!!

byan: *pulls knives one by one out of each pant pocket, one out of their boot, three out of different pockets in their bag, one from somewhere under their shirt, another from their sleeve, and a final one inexplicably from the front of their pants, setting them all into a pile*

[purpdrawsthings]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

special birthday post 💜

[very long yap incoming 💥]

Edit : this was supposed to be released on midnight yesterday right when it turns 20th in my country but I didn't have time so yeah, kinda upset <=[

IT'S MY BIRTHDAYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!

By the time I post this my phone will be well, closed and I will be unable to access it since it's past 9 and it'll turn back on at 7 in the morning.

This was made one day before the bday btw I did not prepare 💔

Anyways..

Todays the day I turn ▒▒ years old! Oh. Why would I tell my age? Gotta keep that a secret!

Funny fact, the 20th of April is also the same date as when the prophet of Islam Nabi Muhammad was birthed! Crazy amirite?

But anyways, I've gone through so many things. Both sad and also wonderful. Life sure is full of possibilities isn't it? I'm in a fandom about beans and suddenly I'm in a fandom about a Saturday morning cartoon mario shitpost? Never thought that would happen but it did, somehow.

The thing is, you'll never know what ever happens next! Prepared or not, you'll always be hit with the most unexpected occurrences. And that's the wonder of life! It's what keeps us interested and curious!

It's okay to change. I used to promise to myself that I would always stay in the among us fandom! But look where I am now. I used to think that I was a bad person for doing that, but now I realize that, it's okay! It's not like the end of the world happens when you leave a fandom you've been in for 3 years!

Looking back at old things may be cringe to most, but it's always nice to feel that nostalgia that you haven't felt in a while! It really shows how much you've grown for the past few years!

I used to be really terrible with animation. Like- really ass. But since 2024, my animations have started to become much better! It just takes time and patience. Thing won't always go your way and you shouldn't rush everything! [ Ironic considering that I always rush stuff 💀 ] Taking your time slowly but surely will pay out and you'll have a good result in the end!

Now those few past paragraphs I literally said earlier made no sense whatsoever considering I just talked about life but in a non rearranged order. So I'm sorry for that one 😭

But anyways, all I wanna say is, thank you. For everything. To everyone here! Involved or not, I could NOT be here if it weren't for you all! You can't BELIEVE how much it has impacted me! I sincerely love you all! 💜 <=3

Being in here for less than a year and having this much is crazy! Like I didn't know you guys liked my stuff! I'm just a silly girl who just draws that's all 💜

For the last part, I'd love to say a few words to some people that I love/admire the most 💜 [ the words I'm about to say may be a bit similar to the ones said in the Christmas special so yeah =[ ]

Neptune - You were my first friend, friendo and best friend. We don't interact a whole lot anymore but I just wanna say, you are an amazing person. You were so supportive and amazing! You always made my day back in amino. And I won't ever forget about that. You've improved so much on your art too! I'm glad to see youre improving so much on your art, and to that, thank you Nep. Thank you for being my friendo. 💜

@rr3d2y - My first friend in the SMG4 community! I WANNA HUG YOU SO BAD IRL 💔 you are seriously such a kind and wonderful person! GENUINELY LIKE YOU SO COOL!!!!! We got along with each other so well like, I didnt know you were that chill smh??? I LOVE YOU AND CHERISH YOU SO MUCH A FRIEND!!!! THANKS SO MUCH FOR BEING FRIENDS WITH ME YA SILLY!! 💜❤💜❤💜❤💜❤💜

@mikchi8 - Pulls you out and hugs you and shakes you affectionately. YOU TOO MIKCHI. YOU TOO!! YEAH WE DON'T TALK A WHOLE LOT BUT GENUINELY YOU'RE A COOL PERSON!!! LOVE YA YOU FUNNI PERSON!!! 💜💜💜💜

@superluigiglitchy - I will make art of Oliver soon I'LL GET TO THERE SIDHOSHSKDKDHD 😭 PJ I love ur art and the stuff you do like- A LOT! Like that vanellope AU and also the squib! THE SILLY HIMSELF!!! No seriously how'd you make him so cute siudidjdodjdojdodhdidj /silly we don't a talk a whole much as much as we used to but I'm always interested and up for what u're cooking! Love ya ^^ ! 💜

@jmaknavigr @markboyblue - You both are so kind and sweet like JMA YOUR AXOLOTL GIFTS ARE SIYDIDHDIHDOFJF AND MARM YOUR COMPLIMENTS THEY'RE SO SIHDISHDIDHDKHDKSJS I'LL GET YOU BOTH!!!!!! MARK MY WORDSSSSS /silly /jk /nsrs /lh I'M SORRY FOR NOT HAVING ANYMORE TO SAY BUT JUST KNOW THAT I LOVE U TWO 💜💜💜💜

@tiredsmashbros @strange0-0storm @cookiepopcat @its-a-me-mango - You four have been like my main source of inspiration like HELPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!! YOU ALL ARE STILL VERY COOL TO ME. All of you fours contents are just so unique and well made?? Man that what I really strive for tbh 😭 all I wanna say is you are all creative in your own separate ways and I'll continue praise you four for that, 💥💥💥💥💜💜💜💜

@libbytwq @bear-boi-5 @coralalala64 @4thwallbreakerdraws2 - OKAY I DID NOT EXPECT TO BE FRIENDS/MUTUALS WITH ANY OF YOU. SERIOUSLY 😭. LIKE UH... HOW? You four have like, really cool stuff and people should really see that because y'all are cooking some rlly good art in that kitchen right there 💥 interacting with like all four of you has got to be one of the goofiest and silliest things. Like- sure it's not that chaotic but it can get rlly silly at times and I'm glad for that do what you four do XD 💜💜💜

@michaelscorneroftheinternet @grinnames @dorriostareyes - OH GOD YOU THREE ARE REALLY COOL TOO. Micheal and Dorrio, you boths writing are actually like top notch WHAT ARE Y'ALL COOKING UP WITH CHANGE IN SCRIPT PUT THAT GIF WHERE SOMEONE IS WRITING AND IT'S ON FIRE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Grinnames you too I know I said this before but ur Godbox au is so interesting very excited to see how that like.. Event... Thing.... Ends =D! You three are all obviously very cool and deserve more recognition 💜💜💜

@alelathedragon - Hey uhhhhh wasn't expecting this huh? I KNOW WE HAVEN'T INTERACTED A WHOLE LOT BUT I GOTTA SAY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LETTING ME LEND A HAND ON THE COMPETITION!!! I DIDN'T EXPECT THAT AT ALL LIKE WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT MY DOORSTEP ALL THE SUDDEN!! Honestly I love broken star like he's such a silly goober AND LOYBOO TOO. HE'S SUCH A CUTIE!!! Man you so cool. Yeah this is what you get for interacting with me muahahhahaa 💥💜

@eliscz @meg-girumi @theclosetcreature @fbanjex @jovialoddity @bidinonsense @h4ppysoki @dakaakula @icedbeverageenjoyer @jibrilthethingart @stargus0k @hplonesomeart @scimagic @the-masked-astro @yasmin70 @fenicearts420 @mrtophat518 @alex-dolmatescu2-0 @change-name-later - YOU ARE ALL REALLY COOL MR PUZZLES ARTISTS IN YOUR WAYS!!!!! SERIOUSLY YALLS IDEAS FOR THIS SILLY MAN ARE REALLY COOL LIKE THE WAY Y'ALL DRAW HIM, HEAD CANNONS AND THE STUFF Y'ALL DID WITH HIM, ARE ALL JUST REALLY COOL!! Will adore you all till the ends of handsome tv man 💜💜💜 /silly

And these are the list of people that I'd like to make messages to but I simply don't have the time and energy to do that so yeah 😔. Just know that I enjoy you all as equally as everybody else before this!! 💜💜💜

@opossol @shygirl4991 @theartistisme24 @art-parasi-te @fruit-sy @dictatortirah @corgibuttdraws @smp-eclair @psinkaaa @rat-n-atty

And for the last bit! A recap of alllllll of my digital drawings since I interacted online! Enjoy 💜

And that's it!.. There was supposed to be a bit where I yapped more but with my real voice but that got scrapped.. =[

Anywaysssss yeah! Thank you for whoever read this far smh ig you have a good attention span 💥💥💥💥

Have a great day every body and most importantly, happy purpday to me 💜

[alllgator-blood]

Okay I promise my next post will be the angst comic part 4 but FIRST. THE ONE AND ONLY THING I SHIP

LITERALLY THE SECOND PERSON WHO GUESSED THE PAIRING GOT IT CORRECT??? THAT WAS FAST. This is a situation where I have to go "okay hear me out" because it makes 0 sense to anyone but me. This is really long and very dependent on my au comic nobody but me has read, but the TL;DR is:

I feel like they'd be a good pairing because shamura loves to learn but doesn't care about material goods, and mystic seller is used to all gods talking to them only BECAUSE they offer material goods. So when somebody actually wanted to know about *them* personally and what it's like to be a weird angel thing, the two established a bond. Also they're both agender and most likely asexual AND don't seem to be socially aware despite being ancient wise beings that know seemingly everything, so they understood each other like instantly.

I have a lot of sketches of them hanging out but here's a shitpost sketch thing I made AAAAAGES ago

Okay so from an in-game standpoint, mystic seller pops up to tell you how the post-game works with purgatory and all that, and introduces the purged bosses. Really ratau could've done that as the established Tutorial Guy, or even narinder but there IS the chance that you killed both of them (lol) so mystic seller is the unkillable, all-knowing angel that shows up to say "you suck at killing people. The bishops are trapped in purgatory, you know. You should probably do something about that".

But from like a CHARACTER standpoint what do they stand to gain? They're not even from your dimension so why should they care, they're just here for your god tears? From the dialogue about the bishops we can see that they don't really give a shit about any of them, EXCEPT! SHAMURA? Mystic seller doesn't feel emotions like "our kind" does but one of the only times they do, it's to say it's a shame what happened to shamura. They also say they didn't barter with them much, because they "needed little".

SO THAT HAD ME THINKING. My au comic (which is hundreds of sketched panels and the full thing will never see the light of day unless I post it unfinished. Eugh) is about shamura going around chronicling everything they witnessed during the time they were alive, and they notice everyone is like...selfish. Trying to be the last god standing. Really obsessed with trinkets and charms, so some of the gods just go around harvesting relics from the other gods and using their powers to survive a little longer. Shamura has visions of the future of siblings they don't know they have yet, so they try to be friendly with the rest of the pantheon to form a family and it always bites them in the ass, so they have to kill them.

Eventually they end up with all these fuckin god tears and they're thinking "what do I even do with these? Nobody wants them and everyone has them", and BOOM. MYSTIC SELLER JUMPSCARE. They do the whole introduction where they say they have loot in exchange for god tears, shamura just drops off the tears and is like "I don't care about trinkets, bye" and the seller is like. What Thy Fuck. Because every other god is pretty adamant on getting something good in exchange for the tears. So they call them back and ask if there's ANYTHING at all they want. And shamura, being the self-proclaimed wisdom god, just asks the seller to talk about themself for a while, who's just like okkaaayyy?? Nobody else ever asked what it's like to be a bizarre circle headed angelic creature that collects magical bits and pieces, but shamura LOVES to learn, and the two bonded that way. Shamura would bring the mystic seller god tears, the seller would tell them a story, they'd write it down to put in their archives and the conversations eventually got more personal when the stories started to run out. They both realized they don't understand how other people work, but they knew how *each other* worked so they could kinda learn how to function as normal people with each other's observations.

When I say I ship them I mostly mean like a QPP situation because I think they'd be good partners in the most autistic asexual way possible, where they don't make out sloppy style or outright say "I love you", but they have an understanding of one another that doesn't apply to anyone else really. They don't have to rely on conventional relationship stuff to know the other one cares deeply for them in the most nonverbal, oddly specific way possible. I know shamura's the smart one but I really feel like that extends to everything except understanding how people work, hence all the stuff that happened with narinder and the rest of the family. So finding someone else outside the pantheon who is quite literally inhuman, otherworldly, genderless and uninterested in Carnal Desire would definitely make them feel the closest thing to romantic love that they can. Also, since mystic seller lets the gods name them, shamura named them "sunshine" after hearing one of their followers singing that "you are my sunshine" song to the person they loved the most. I always liked how shamura has their little moon crown and the mystic seller is depicted as the sun in some of the art? They go together well is what I'm saying and I'm kinda surprised nobody has done anything of them yet.

I WILL SAY I have angst planned for them once I do the introductory comics, it has to do with how narinder's imprisonment happened literally right in front of where mystic seller sets up shop, so canonically it's safe to assume they watched shamura get lobotomized in real time :')

But for now...I must go back to kallamar angst cause I've been putting off posting this part. It gets very mentally ill very quickly so I needed to balance it out with fluff......

[vesuvian-pigeon]

I'm doing Muriel's route again, and my obsession for him is stronger than last time. I want to draw him now oof

+ this is how it went for me. no one can change my mind.

one day I will stop drawing memes and shitposts, but today is not the day. (<- this is not a promise)

[dreamtydraw]

We need to talk about the patreon and fan treatment.

I know a lot of people are happy about the patreon cause it means they get new stuff or opportunities if they missed the Kickstarter for Touch starved But as a backer who pledged some good money, endured the full year of shallow / empty reposted content regarding the game and is now told the basic fandom interaction that I should receive is paywalled I’m upset.

Didn’t we all saw the amount of money received upon Kickstarter ? Why isn’t the patreon just an offer that means people gets the Kickstarter monthly update if they couldn’t support before ??? Why is something that should be either directly free or to some tier of the Kickstarter who paid a lot ( not even talking about me, talking about people who paid over 300€ ) is now asked again ? For what reason do they need to set up a patreon if we aren’t even promised an expended demo in the waiting of another year ???

Even if it’s a small new studio the devs aren’t new and have knowelge regarding fandoms and visual novel development. The last legacy social media was praised because of how nice the post were for the comunity ( we’re talking lore and shitpost type of post ).

The patreon was announced 4 days ago and is now said to release in 4 days…. You realize that it means that a no moment the devs were planning on hearing people’s opinion about it ??? They never been this fast for an announcement and it’s concerning money !? Why is there no testing water ? Why is there no reading the comments of upset Kickstarter backers who propose the alternative to have the patreon release the same infos as the Kickstarter infos so it would give a fair chance to everyone ? Where is the sense of comunity here ???

Now reposting directly what I said on my insta stories :

This is me being upset but remember that i’m upset because I like the premise of this game and had a really big interest and love for it, I’m not being a Hater just for hating I am upset as someone who like the game and what I was promised.

Since I already paid and will receive a game key I will play the game once it’s out because I have no doubt it will be good I am nowhere downplaying how well crafted this game will be I’m just saying that the devs are not treating the fans well enough in return for the boost the comunity is giving them.

Now regarding this post, I am Upset and my opinion won’t change unless the dev actively do something about it so there is no need to try defending them. If you leave a comment in their support I will simply not interact as You have the right to have your opinion but mine is currently settled.

Have a good day and thank you for taking the time to read.

[thegodthief]

I lived. I live. I really didn't think I would this time last year. There were some days that the only reason I still breathed was because I promised a dear friend that I would check in with them that day and the thought of disappointing them hurt more than the relief of dying could soothe.

I live. Deliberately. Through conscious choice, daily.

There are matters I want to settle. There are shitposts I want to inflict. There are dolls that need to be made and shawls that need to be finished.

I still don't know where I fit. I keep finding myself excluded from all-welcoming communities because I don't meet their blood quantum requirement, didn't grow up in the culture implied by my skin color, don't know all the slang attributed to my accent, don't make enough money to be of interest.

I'm not polished.

I'm rough.

But I'm done trying to sand away the burrs. I'm done trying to cover the edges sharpened by experience. I'm done trying to make myself safe and acceptable to a hypothetical other that never would have been satisfied with sterility no matter how agreeable the ad hung around my neck.

I live. Apparently, it's the worst trait I have. I make other people uncomfortable by existing so I am not welcome to exist with them.

That's okay.

Because, I live. I still live. And I'm not done experiencing life yet.

That's all I need to keep going.

[cottoncandyclown123]

.

.

.

Don’t worry! He’s just teasing her! That’s how he shows he likes her (:

Like I promised, i am finally done with this second fanart! This is my JTTW oc (Tao Huwang) meeting @jttw-monkeybusiness JTTW oc (Sophie). Took me while to get done.. but I hope you like it! I loved drawing Sophie, she’s really fun to draw! But yeah this is my last fanart for now, but if you’re ever interested in more, don’t be afraid to tell me! i’d love to draw more shitpost of ours babies! :3

Have a nice day!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

reposting one i read on reddit that got removed but i just need to know what tumblr thinks:

AITA for finishing in my girlfriend during the full moon, thinking it was not possible for her to be fertile?

I know the title sounds weird, but I promise this isn't a shitpost, metaphor, or a joke. I (20M) was raised by a single dad, never knew my mom who left me as a baby, and growing up I didn't really have many female (or male, tbh) friends.

The reason I say this is that I don't know all that much about female anatomy; yes, I had sex ed in school, but seriously don't remember anything except "wear a condom", basically.

I met my girlfriend "Beth" (21F) in college and she's the best. It's my first relationship, her second. We've been together for a little more than a year now, and had sex for the first time about half a year ago. After the first couple times, Beth told me that she has a really regular and average period that she's been keeping track of with an app since she was literally 14, plus in the last few years she also started taking her temperature to get even more accurate results; I didn't understand exactly how this works, but she was so reassuring and confident I didn't question it.

Ok, now this is where I might start sounding like an idiot... So she told me her period is an extremely regular 28 days, and she has literally only strayed from this pattern once since she was 14. I also am aware that moon cycles are 28 days. (Correction here: since this incident, I Googled and it's actually about 29 days... but that's besides the point I guess.)

Women tend to be associated with the moon, like Artemis; I truly, deeply believed that the moon phases and all women's menstrual cycles were inherently connected, but just like, different women had their more fertile days with full moons whereas for some it corresponds to a different moon phase, like the new moon, and this is why women differed.

So the reason Beth told me about her period being super regular is that she was confident she knew when she was or was not fertile, and told me she wanted me to finish in her on safe days. We've been having sex like this for the last four months where she tells me the window of time she's safe, she's happy, I'm happy, it's working fine.

I started noticing that the moon tends to be really full and bright every time we have unprotected sex, maybe not necessarily always on a "true" full moon, but definitely around that time. I made a mental note that my girlfriend is a "fertile during a new moon (when you can't see the moon)" sort of girl. If you're wondering why I never just outright asked her about this, it just seemed really obvious to me and I didn't see the point in talking to her about something potentially a little embarrassing for no reason.

June 3rd was the most recent true full moon, and I decided to sort of surprise her by inviting her to my apartment and just pouncing on her wordlessly as soon as she came in. She was into it, we had sex, I finished inside her, she didn't complain or stop me at all.

While cooling off, she remarked that she didn't remember telling me about her safe days in a while, so I must be tracking her period, which she actually thought was sweet lol. I said, "well of course it's a safe day, the moon is so bright". She asked me what I meant, and I said something like "I know you can't possibly get pregnant during a full moon".

She seemed really confused and started getting a bit tense, questioning me more, and I, also confused, started explaining to her about the moon cycle thing I fully believed up until that moment.

This is where she freaked out completely, jumped up and asked me if I was a complete moron. She started yelling at me and freaking out about how insane and irresponsible I was for finishing in her. I was truly shocked I had no idea what to say, especially because it WAS still truly a safe day, but she actually just grabbed her stuff and stormed off before I could do anything.

Well, after she left I googled a bunch of stuff and yep, turns out I'm completely incorrect. That being said, it WAS still a safe day for Beth and she wasn't actually upset about me finishing in her or anything, just the reason I did, I guess. So, AITA?

So generally I don't want to rerun posts from reddit unless it's your own story, but we'll make an exception just this once

What are these acronyms?

[choccy-zefirka]

Woe! Probably terribly lore-inaccurate Rogue Trader rarepair fic be upon ye!

Had to get it out of my system ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Please be aware that I only just started Chapter 2 of Rogue Trader and my previous knowledge of 40K was mostly osmosed from shitposts. I have no idea what I am doing, except that I'm having fun. Please approach me in good faith, and maybe we can have fun together! (Not like that).

Sooner or later, Astra's dreams melt into a blood-red haze of distorted, screaming faces. As usual. She does not remember — it hurts to remember, like that thing at the back of her mind is digging its long serrated claws deep into throbbing, inflamed brain matter — the last time her dreams ended in any other way. On any, even remotely, better note.

She did use to get nightmares before, certainly. But just a scant handful of them. Mostly the twisted imprints of the things she'd occasionally glimpse in the Warp on her geology survey voyages towards new worlds, along half-forgotten Warp routes. And, of course, the echoes of muffled screams, of strangled breaths, of gunfire in her bleeding ears — reminders of what she endured when she was captured by pirates that one time.

Now, just as Drusus' Blessing — her research vessel, her home — is a tiny speck of rust next to the hulking hive-world mass of Theodora's Fatum Audacium, so do the flashes from her other life seem an oasis of blissful serenity, compared to the visions that started haunting Astra when she got saddled with this damned new ship.

To think. All of this happened because of one bloody person. Her mother, she supposes. Though she never was that to her. She was just some nameless noblewoman who'd browbeaten and bribed and bawled her way the Blessing, despite the ship being in no way suited to entertain a highborn guest, let alone one heavy with child.

All she ever did for Astra was push her out — a squirming, malformed little freak — into the embrace of the Void, for the crew to care for (if they deigned not to toss her out the airlock), before hopping off in the nearest spaceport, never to be seen again.

And Astra would have been content for their connection to begin and end right there. She would have gladly kept on living her life with no other mother than the Blessing herself — and her Navigator. The latter was, after all, the one who cradled Astra in her arms and promised to raise her against all odds. Mutant to mutant.

But no. Oh no. The Throne granted her no such luck.

Turns out the mysterious woman was, in some shape or form, a von Valancius. Not Theodora herself, Emperor forbid. But maybe niece of hers. A cousin. Twice, thrice, twelve times removed. Who knows. Who cares.

Either way, the little freak she birthed and abandoned is now a grown freak. A sallow, lanky, hairless thing. With perpetual bruises under her uncannily pale eyes. With oddly shaped ears that have led some people — those unused to creepy crawlies like her, not like her crew was — to gossip that she's part-xenos. And with an inheritance that gives her nightmares.

This time, she dreams of Rykad Minoris.

First, her head pounds and her throat contracts under the onslaught of little horrors. Like memories of the blasted finery that the governor's Master of Ceremonies shoved her into, for her pointless "triumph". Yes, that also counts as nightmare fuel.

The impossibly tall, bullet-shaped powdered wig gripped her forehead like an unrelenting vice... Wouldn't it have been a sight if her skull burst, brain matter raining on the waiting commoners instead of a promised bounty of gifts, and the posthumous rumor about her being a psyker was added to a list of everything else freakish about her.

And the dress, that layered cake of blinding gold and outrageous magenta, had clearly been snatched from the wardrobe of some refined, shapely lady dancing her days and nights away on a sun-kissed garden planet. It hung off Astra's gangly form like off a garden rake. Too broad and flappy where a healthy human, untouched by the poison of the Void, should have had curves; and painfully tight round her soldier's shoulders. The fabric's texture drove her to agony: a myriad mini cannon blasts of formic acid injected into her skin non-stop by an army of invisible, but very angry ants. The underwires, meant to accentuate a statuesque bosom, stabbed her with each attempt to play the benevolent Rogue Trader and wave to the crowd. And every other ill-fitting bit chafed her to a bloody pulp. And worse of all, the rectangular skirt — so unwieldy that she never would have clambered onto her chariot tank without Abelard's help — slowed her down when something rippled over the body of her conquered enemy, and the people, the very people whom she was supposed to protect, began to scream.

After the little horrors, comes the planet's fall. The collapse of the entire system. She barely finishes mindlessly writhing and clawing at herself in her sleep, trying to pull down the biting fabric that is not there anymore, when an overwhelming inky wave rolls over the skies in her memories. The darkness, once again, envelops everything: deep, cold, blank and lifeless, so unlike the familiar glimmering calm of her beloved outer space.

She dreams of the collapsing sun, and the swirls of dizzying purple, clinging like pus-filled sores to the streets of the city that had barely begun to heal.

She dreams of wailing smoky shades phasing in and out of reality, the boundaries of Realspace becoming as blotchy as broken pixels on a possessed cogitator's screen.

She dreams of cultists, springing up again and again like black mold, no matter how much she scrubbed the planet clean. Of their sightless faces, all turned towards her, leering. Of hollow cheeks, burrowed by lumpy trails of crusted black tar: the last remnants of their liquefied eyes... Like a perversion of the weeping saint statues.

She dreams of Chaos Spawn, sickening blocks of misshapen mass lumbering about, hungry eyes blinking from crudely hewn shoulders, multiple mouths opening and shutting across swollen stomachs, on top of bulbous neck stumps, in the palms of grasping hands. Snatching, ripping, chewing, gargling on thick jets of crimson that dripped down on the flopping, heaving, still living torsos whose arms and legs they were gnawing down to the bone.

She dreams of them, on, and on, and on. By the Throne, there were so many of those things. Far more than she had ever seen in one place. She relives the sight of them cleaving glistening, squelching paths through the swaying wheat field of terrified townsfolk... She walked across a wheat field once, on a faraway world where her ship stopped for supplies; the crowd parted exactly as the plant stalks did in her wake. Fragile, brittle, so easy to mangle and spit out in bloodied flour.

She should have paid them more heed. She may be rubbing shoulders with the high and mighty now — awkward shoulders, unfit for finery — but she remembers what it was like, to be small and forgotten. And to find company among those as small and forgotten as herself. The Blessing's Navigator. And the simple, common voidsmen. Kin not through blood, but through one simple act. They found the best blanket to wrap around the tiny, wrinkly greyish-white void rat, because she always felt so cold... And since the moment she could form a coherent thought, the rat resolved to return their kindness. She stayed true to her resolve all the way, as she clung to life with all her might, and dug and dug her way up the ranks — so much easier to do on a ship where the upper and lower decks are not each the size of several cities — and eventually became the Blessing's captain.

As Rogue Trader, she has the power to spread that kindness — blasphemy? heresy? so be it — even further. To all common folk. Everywhere. Tenfold.

She should have done that. She should have kept them safe.

"The answer remains the same! You cannot talk to the Lord Captain! She has not yet recovered, and you will not expedite that by barging in here! Good day!"

Astra blinks off the last of her nightmare's poison fog, and lies perfectly still — eerily still, the planet folk say of her fellow Voidborn — holding her breath as she watches her surroundings take solid shape. She is back in Theodora's immense landing pad of a bed — her bed now, she supposes, but it will never be more "hers" than the good old bunk in her previous quarters, where her few belongings were allotted perfectly in their own proper places, and the scent of fresh linen was the only luxury that truly mattered.

She lifts her bleary gaze past the endless expanse of the plush red blanket. The color and the crinkled terrain make her wistfully remember a planet she'd explored shortly before Theodora tracked her down, marking it as a potential sandstone quarry world for the Imperium... Oh, how she misses researching interesting rocks.

There's a figure standing a respectful distance away from Astra's bed, back turned towards her, still observing the shuffling retreat of whoever just got admonished for disturbing the Lord Captain. Even the vague outline of that rigidly straight spine, those strong shoulders — just a bit broader than hers, and far less sharp and angular — is enough to have her exhaling in relief. She may not always see eye to eye with her Seneschal about the things he has been stubbornly shielding her from — no, she will go down to the lower decks to hear out the protesting workers, protocol be damned! — but right now, she breathes easier, knowing that there's an unflinching sentinel on the threshold between her nightmares and the waking world.

"Abelard," she calls out faintly.

He instantly turns around, with the precision of a soldier snapping to attention.

"Your Ladyship!"

There's an odd, hoarse leap in his voice. An intonation Astra never heard from him; she wonders what color Cassia would ascribe to it. For her own part, she pictures it as a thread-thin crack running across an otherwise perfectly hewn block of granite.

His face, too, looks as if a gust of wind erosion had swept across his usual mask of polite professionalism. The shadows underneath his organic eye are nearly as deep as Astra's perpetual purple bruises, and the trim of his beard has started to lose its pristine contours to a creeping stubble. For however long Astra has slept, he must have been awake the entire time.

"You were wounded."

He has forced his voice into its usual tone, but his nostrils flare slightly.

"And you did not tell me. You had me use the last medikit on Mistress Tlass."

Instinctively, Astra slides her hand under the covers, searching for the gash in her side. The nasty, tattered souvenir from a Chaos Spawn claw that she had to covertly press closed for about half the final battle against Aurora's cult. Her endless dream did include some clipped, jittery visions of her own bloody palm, of her quivering fingers... But somehow, she barely remembers the pain. Adrenaline, a true blessing from the Emperor.

Now, her fingertips meet only a thin strip of scar tissue. Abelard must have taken care of it after she... after she... What was the last thing that happened to her between Rykad and here? There was the fight, the rush to the spaceport... The roaring flames, the whimpering, cowardly nobles. More and more enemies blocking their way. Idira being tossed to the ground and nearly trampled by that towering Chaos Marine —

"She needed your aid more," Astra says, with the kind of quiet firmness that Abelard once called a sign of her "admirable resolve". The mere memory makes blood rush up her throat, blooming in a blueish cloud under her mother-of-pearl skin.

"I could not in good conscience let people fuss over me when we had so much to do. The cult, the evacuation, everyone screaming in my ear whose lives have more value... And the moment we made contact with Fatum, Pasqal rushed me off to do the blood ritual for calming our warp engine. Where would I find the time to — "

Oh.

Oh! That must have been when she lost consciousness. Being drained of her oh-so-sacred von Valancius blood by a cybergargoyle must have proven too much on top of concealing a wound. She certainly cannot recollect anything else afterwards.

Abelard takes a broad stride forward. Something glints in his organic eye — like light reflecting off liquid.

To Astra's astonishment — and more so his own, she is sure; this is the opposite of prim officer conduct — he lowers himself to his knees by her bedside and grasps her hand over the covers.

"I found you on the floor of the bridge, Your Ladyship," he says. And with each word, the crack carves deeper and deeper into the granite.

"Motionless. Unresponsive. With Master Haneumann just... standing there. Philosophizing about how the flesh is weak."

Astra raises her silvery eyebrows the merest fraction of an inch.

It has taken a bit of practice to memorize which planet folk expressions correspond to which emotion and situation, but quietly moving her eyebrows seems appropriate here.

"That does sound like him. I hope you were not too harsh. I don’t think he understands how organic bodies work."

Sometimes she feels she and Pasqal have that in common.

Abelard shakes his head.

"Frankly, I... I do not remember what I said to him in that moment. It was as though... That entire swathe of time is distant. Submerged. Every movement as I carried you from the bridge felt like drowning in swamp water."

Astra swallows.

Another memory stirs her blood, blush seeping through her cheeks like a bruise. Her clumsy ascent for the triumph in her cumbersome dress. And Abelard's hand, firm and supportive, on the small of her back.

"You... carried me? In your arms?"

A charge of electricity seems to run through Abelard. The impeccably competent, respectful Seneschal once more, he tries to pull his hand away — but Astra, on an inexplicable impulse, grips his fingers and leans over, her heart hammering in her chest. She did not even have to go through her mental data slate of fitting gestures!

Her gaze leaps up and down Abelard's face. It makes her uneasy, looking people directly in the eye for too long, so eventually, she focuses on the frame of his ocular implant. Even so, she catches a glimpse of his pupil widening.

"Abelard — when you found me... Did you feel frightened for the dynasty's future... because you were about to lose another Rogue Trader... Maybe the last von Valancius in the universe... Or did you worry for — "

She cuts herself off, realizing how ludicrous she sounds. This is not her world. Not the world of orderly, comforting solitary journeys on a hunt for rocks, with a tight-knit crew that rallied under a Voidborn because she was... herself, not because of her special blood. In this world, she will never matter. Hers is to carry the von Valancius name, to lord it over those who would have spat on her just a Terran year ago. And his is to serve that name — the name, and nothing else.

"Astra," he whispers suddenly. In his voice, she can hear the granite shatter, revealing something new, something fragile and precious, something she would be afraid to touch with even the finest geologist tools.

Deeply, reverently, as a pilgrim in prayer, he kisses her hand. In all its clammy, cold, long-fingered awkwardness.

Her heart races, as though she were plummeting down in a broken elevator — and before her rational thoughts can catch up to speed, she gets out of bed, almost getting tangled comically in those ostentatious embroidered sheets, and kneels on the floor beside him, their heads level, their lips inches from touching.

"I never hid the fact that I am out of my depth here."

She sighs, resting her hand on his shoulder. Just the way he laid his hand on hers as he healed her, during their very first meeting. That gesture holds a special place in her mental data slate.

"But not matter how hard this new world tried to pulverize me," she continues, "I could always look back... and find you there. And that would give me the strength to try pushing another inch forward. With time, you became not just a Seneschal to me, but a friend... And then — "

She bridges those inches at last, brushing her mouth against his. He does not flinch back from her. And when she smiles hesitantly at the tickle of his stubble — less of a stabbing sensation than she feared — he smiles as well.

"I am honored," he says, as he takes her hand in his again. "If you recall... That moment when we were returning from the lower decks, I was challenging your decisions, you were retorting back..."

He runs his thumb in circles over her palm, as if charting his own thoughts.

"I looked up at you, and it was as if for a moment, I understood the way Mistress Orsellio sees the world. If I may say something foolish — your colors shined so bright, I could scarcely breathe."

He clears his throat and casts his gaze away for a moment. "It... seemed prudent to me, as an older man, as one sworn to your dynasty's service — to... to conceal my feelings, but after today, there can hardly be any turning back."

"No," she agrees, breathing the word out through half-parted lips. "Abelard, I — "

This might not be the right way to do it, but she has always had a habit of plainly saying what's on her mind. And who better to be so frank with than her seneschal?

"I would like you to kiss me."

"It would be an honor, Lord Captain."

Just like when he performs any other task for the glory of House von Valancius, Abelard gives the kiss his all.

His tongue meets Astra's, again and again, determined to drink every last drop of her. He tilts his face so that his ocular implant does not cut into her cheek, and takes great care not to disturb the tubes that keep sustaining her weakened Voidborn immune system with medicae. His other eye slips closed, under an intently furrowed brow. It is almost a pity to tear her lips from his, but the next thing Astra does is to put a bit of gentle pressure on his chest; and heeding her command, loyal as ever, he lies down underneath her. On the floor, not the bed. But then again, the bed was never truly hers.

His overcoat pools over the floor, providing them with a makeshift blanket, and her fingers, used to high-precision tasks like cutting open a geode, easily undo the buckles on his chest plate's straps. She manages to do it one-handed, even, while her free hand weaves through his hair, and her mouth travels down his throat. He grunts a most unbecoming curse under his breath, his pelvis thrusting upwards a little bit...

The vox caster at his hip crackles.

"Seneschal! I hate to ask this again, but we really need the Lord Captain at the bridge! There are some disturbing signals coming from this system! This might be a hostile force approaching!"

Both Abelard and Astra freeze, her on top of him, her thighs wrapped around his leg, a particularly voracious kiss mark darkening his throat.

She huffs a few breaths, trying to sober herself up.

"I just woke up, Vigdis! Will be there in ten minutes!"

"Thank the Throne! Please hurry, Lord Captain!"

"I will handle this, Abelard, and then I will send for you. Through the Master of Ablutions," Astra says while they pull each other to their feet.

Abelard quirks an eyebrow. Yes, she knows this facial expression.

"Ah, like you did when you could not sleep, summoning me to lecture you on etiquette."

"I could not help it," Astra declares, frank as ever. "You have a very beautiful voice, and I find it soothing to hear you talk."

Abelard smoothes back his hair. Two spots of tenderest pink brush over his cheekbones.

"Thank you, Your Ladyship... Astra."

"I will see you soon," she says — purrs? Emperor knows she's never purred before — before planting one last swift, parting kiss at the corner of his mouth and hurrying off to the bridge.

"I will be there," he calls after her, absentmindedly massaging the kiss mark.

"Always".

[blood-orange-juice]

I promised a "Furina is Jesus" post. It's kind of a shitpost but also it's not.

The theatre of the courtroom

I'll first have to note that law is a peculiar thing. It is created through practicing it.

It's not just the written rules, it's how we apply them, and who gets to write and rewrite them, and there's no solid foundation underneath.

It's supposed to be treated as immutable until it's suddenly not. Until an insurgence turns into a revolution or the divine right of kings becomes a symbolic relic of the past. In the mildest scenario a bunch of old farts just gather and vote for new rules. Sometimes the very same rules that give those old farts the right to decide rules.

A law remains a law as long as enough people agree to believe and enforce it. How much is "enough" is also debatable (often depends on the size of your army).

It is very much like theatre. Humans like it when the world is molded into coherent stories so they happily participate.

Furina making a show out of trials is not a perversion of law, it shows she understands its very nature.

Transgression and transcendence

Now back to Christianity. The essense of Christianity is transgression. No, seriously.

It's as punk as a religion can get. A god hanging out with publicans and harlots? Killing a god in the most humiliating way possible and being forgiven for it? Symbolically eating a god?

It's insane.

Such practices are usually reserved for small communities of a very special sort (*ahem* left-hand path tantrics*ahem*). It's the only religion I know that gleefully and unashamedly incorporates such things into rituals meant for the lay public.

(this is probably a good time to mention that I'm not Christian and it's a look of an outsider fascinated with philosophy of religion in general)

It's actually one of the real reasons a lot of pagans rejected Christianity so fiercely: it's spectacularly nonchalant in dealing with things that would be considered "unclean" by most archaic cultures.

Now this is important.

As post-structuralist theories state, any attempt to establish a power structure, to set rules or to define self will also produce things that would seem unclean. Impure. Things that should be cast off. It's in the nature of our psyche. The concept of uncleanliness is one of the core mechanisms that allow our mind to function.

(I'll redirect you to Julia Kristeva and the concept she names abjection if you want to dive into it.

I also want to note that abjection and horror go side by side and it makes a lot of sense that Fontaine is also the Lovecraftian expansion)

And what did Christianity do? It subtly removed the importance of "cleanliness". The gravity of it. It established as the norm that norms can be redefined and transcended. That the outcasts and the sinners are not to be forgotten.

It fucking changed the rules of how human psyche and society function. Added an extra possible move.

A sin can be forgiven. A criminal executed in the most ignominious way can turn out to be a god. You never truly know. And also anything can be made clean.

(yay)

(and yes, I know a lot of modern Christians practice the opposite of what I describe. I'm not a fan of these folks too. doesn't matter. the possibility is there. it's glorious. also horrifying and a bit disgusting)

That dude from two thousand years ago

What about him.

I often see people calling a "Jesus figure" anyone who is sacrificed to save others. Or anyone who is reborn. The thing is, this is not how it works.

A god dying and being reborn is the oldest myth on this planet. Last time I checked it was connected to the sun worship, day/night cycle and winter solstice rituals (although it could have changed and also I didn't check very thoroughly). In any way, it predates Christianity by millennia.

Sacrificing all kinds of things and beings to get something in return or to offer gods something else in your stead is also pretty old and very much not Christian.

The unique beauty of that story is that a supreme being, ultimately more worthy than any human, wilfully chose to sacrifice himself for lowly mortals. Actually, allowed them to betray and kill him. And then forgave them.

Do you see how it ties to the previous section? It defied the previoisly established world order (where gods were incomparably more important than humans). It created a paradox. It broke the rules, or rather it destroyed the rules.

Theological debates aside, on a symbolic level it pretty much destroyed the old concept of sin and the idea of a fundamental difference between a god and a human. Everything a paradox touches stops being fully real and needs to be redefined (ceci n'est pas une pipe).

'Sin' doesn't mean the same thing anymore, and 'god' doesn't mean the same thing anymore, even 'death' means a different thing now. The world just starts to function differently after a story like that happens or is told.

(since it only needs to mess up the symbolic order it doesn't even need to happen, only to be told and believed)

And there we have it. A Jesus figure should establish new rules. Preferably better ones. It's someone who fundamentally changes the world with their sacrifice.

That's also where we get back to "law is established by practice". That was the process of establishing a new law.

(this is also why I dislike the idea of Childe as a Jesus figure. he is not a supreme being, he's not the type to sacrifice himself for people he perceives as lower than him, and he is not integrated into society enough for his death to establish new rules. he can still die and be reborn in a new quality, he can even change the world in some way but that would be a different type of story)

Our precious girlfailure

So. Furina.

Fontaine's prophecy speaks of all Fontainians being born with some kind of 'sin'. And the way Neuvilette is talking to the pool of primordial water in 4.1 implies that its ability to dissolve Fontainians is not some kind of natural law but an intentional wrathful act.

And Varunada Lazurite (we know that ascension materials contain the final lines of the archon quest) says this:

"My ideals have no stains. I must correct you. People here bear no sins in the eyes of the gods... Only laws and the Tribunal can judge someone. They can judge even me. So praise my magnificence and purity."

I assume the solution will not be simply killing the eldritch whale or "cleansing" the sin or locking the sea away.

I think Furina will in some way redefine what is considered a sin, or how it should be judged, or who gets to administer judgement. She will create new rules for the world. Probably by dying in some way (temporarily or symbolically) to create a paradox.

(maybe we'll also get to learn that death in Teyvat is not true death)

As I said at the beginning, she understands the law and the very nature of law very well, probably better than Neuvilette. Who else would be better suited for this task.

And no one will notice the beauty and insanity of her gesture, like no one really noticed with that guy two thousand years ago. They'll just think things got fixed because they sacrificed Someone Important.

But that's all right. She'll forgive them.

[not-glorfindel-stop-asking]

Dude I think I know who you are OP and I'm so disappointed 😭

At last, a tale as old as time, a saga of great tragedy and woe.

Once upon a time, in the vast and cursed lands of The Internet, there existed a humble little RP crack account, minding its own chaotic business, frolicking amongst memes and shitposts, blissfully unaware of the impending heartbreak awaiting it.

And then… disaster struck.

A lone traveler emerged from the shadows, carrying the unbearable weight of their sorrow. "I think I know who you are, OP… and I am so disappointed." they declared, their voice trembling under the sheer gravity of their realization.

The wind howled. A single tear traced down the cheek of the OP in question.

Somewhere in the distance, a violin wept. The sky darkened, the birds fell silent, and all joy was stripped from the land.

Except… wait. No. That didn’t happen!

The world did not stop turning. The fabric of reality did not unravel at the seams. The Heavens did not tremble, nor did the Earth split asunder beneath my feet.

Because, shockingly, stunningly, breathtakingly—OP did not, in fact, give a singular, microscopic, atom-sized fuck. Not one. Not even half of one. 🥰🌸🐥✨

There were no gasps of horror, no dramatic fainting spells, no clutching of pearls in the wake of this alleged disappointment. No black veil was donned in mourning. No tragic monologue was recited atop a rain-soaked balcony.

Nothing. Nada. Rien du tout.

And yet, dear traveler, here you are. Gracing my humble domain with the grand revelation of your discontent, as though your words alone might shake me to my very core. As though I might fall to my knees, wracked with existential grief, whispering, “Oh no… a stranger on the internet is disappointed in me… how shall I ever recover?”

And honestly? I have no idea what you expected saying that. Was I meant to gasp? Clutch my chest? Fall to my knees in despair? Issue a public statement of regret? Host a formal apology tour?

Because, my dear Anonymous, I promise you—it does not matter who I am. It never has. And yet, here you are, typing away, hoping what? That I'd crumble at the weight of your vague disappointment?

Spoiler alert: I will not. I am thriving. I am existing joyfully, obnoxiously, and entirely unbothered. Whatever great expectations you had for me are your own to carry, not mine. So, by all means, take a deep breath, unclench this jaw of yours, and touch (or eat) some grass.

And even if you think you're right and I am who you think I am…????? Like okay??? Congrats on your detective work, Sherlock??? What now??? A prize? A parade? A commemorative plaque???

I think some people already figured it out, considering certain posts and all that, dear Anon 😂 But oh no, the horror, the drama, the scandal! What ever shall we do??? 🤭

But fret not, weary traveler!

May your disappointment be but a fleeting stormcloud in the bright and glorious sky of your existence. May you one day find peace in your heart, as I have found peace in my dedicated clownery.

And above all… may you remember that if you don’t like what you see, you can, at any time, embark upon the sacred quest of scrolling away, mute or block!

Blessings upon your journey. 💖✨

_ OP

[edgy-dragon-trash]

ASK GAME ROUND 3 let's goooo

Here are some for my faves, your Astor, Lev, and let's go with Mary too (they're all so creature I love them)

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

🪤 MOUSE TRAP - what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for?

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

Hope you're having a good day :)

Yeahhhh babyyy lets goo💪 Thanks for the ask!

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

Mary:

This one depends a little bit. Mary does not like showing most people that shes smart and capable. She goofs and messes around, dumbing herself down, because she thinks it’s funny when people underestimate her, as well as useful in some situations.

Sometimes that backfires because people she likes every now and then assume the same thing: that shes just dumb and a brute. And they have to be remided thats not the case.

Yiga!Lev:

I assume you’re asking for yiga Leviathan? Regular, canon Leviathan doesn’t have much going on for them besides a few facts that exist for shitpost reasons, actively rotting and sometimes representing me. So I’m picking for you because I can’t offer you much for regular Lev.

I’d say probably their frustration. I’ve talked before about them and how they are when they’re angry or frustrated. It’s ugly and it’s messy and does not align with the chill person they wanna present themselves as.

Astor:

Hmmm… Honestly by the time my Astor starts his villain arc, he really goes all out. I mean, if you can’t change fate, why not be your worst self?

Probably the fact that they’re a snake, a traitor. He can’t keep a single ally for too long, especially when they stop being useful or when they “judge” him for him methods. Hes a fake ass bitch.

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

Mary:

Everything💀

If I gotta pick something, I would say her habit of being touchy or sexulizing things. You either get used to it or you don’t because she is not changing herself too soon. That and she literally cannot help herself no matter how much she wants; she has a genuine problem.

She has no filter either and will say weird things of any type.

Yiga!Lev:

Does picking at their skin count? They’re gonna pick any imperfection, even if they bleed. It’s robotic. You’re gonna see it if you randomly look at them concentrating on something.

Astor:

His tangents. He randomly rambles on and on about certain topics. Especially after his God Given Parasite (third eye) starts messing with his mind more and more. His thoughts get less coherent if he doesn’t talk them out, even if it’s to himself.

🪤 MOUSE TRAP - what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for?

Mary:

Hell is a constant danger. If you’re like Mary and somehow didn’t end up as a tortured soul and instead a demon, you will come across more demons. And they range from decently terrible to straight up vile. Not to mention angels randomly raiding the place…

Mary does have a set of morals, albeit a twisted ones. She will fight for her friends, sure.

But I’d say what got her in danger most of the time was Ale. Either because he was a hitman mean to kill her (god knows how many people in heaven want Mary dead) or because they got in some sort of trouble togheter.

Yiga!Lev:

Literally Astor. Any mission given by Astor is a death mission to some degree, even if he doesn’t necessarily intend it in Leviathan’s case. Thats what it means being a servant of Ganon.

What did get them in major danger is trying to save Astor at the battle of Hyrule Castle. I did mention they were broken up by then, but seeing the man in his last moments, Lev could not help herself; they may have broken up, sorta, but their feelings were still there. Unfortunately not only did they fail to save him, they too ended up dead…

Astor:

Ok my main AU for Astor is not the one with Lev in, so what got him in danger is the same thing in canon: The promise of the Calamity. The promise of greatness and power that Gan offered him. The thing he sacrificed his whole life chasing.

The thing that almost killed him. At least in this one he doesn’t die and gets a cool prosthetic arm. But nothing will fix the realization that he wasted his life for a traitor bigger than him. Perhaps death would have been more merciful than living with the thought.

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

Mary:

Shes a shapeshifter/fleshshifter. The creatures she can shift into are few and it’s easier to change into draconic forms rather than other animals. But she can shift her limbs and body to use body horror to her advantage. When it comes to scaring a human, shes gotten so good she can even shift in a way to expose her internal organs.

Yiga!Lev:

Likes sketching Astor when he sleeps or hes too concentrated on something to look.

Canon Lev because I do have something here:

It is actually a resurrected dragon corpse, brought back by a wizard. It was meant to be a familiar or apprentice but said wizard didn’t account for their size. And also Lev just wants to do their own thing.

Astor:

Big fan of experimenting on people. Be it with torture or the effects of malice, he considers it a special type of offering for the calamity.