#i wanted to do a thing that showed what kind of a cult leader they were without being like. 25 pages long sakjhfsdg

[theonewhowails]

cult trait: good die young

#my art #cotl #cotl lamb #as you can tell. my lamb is SO normal #i wanted to do a thing that showed what kind of a cult leader they were without being like. 25 pages long sakjhfsdg #surprisingly hard???? what can i say i love dramatic spacing and plotlines that slowly build over time. its my curse #this lamb btw is largely based off of the way i played cotl in my first full playthrough. i call this one the Collector #because they do all the fucked up shit you need to in order to collect all the follower forms etc

[woodland-gremlin]

Fruitloops

“We’re home!” Conner bellows, posing like he just won the Super Bowl, with Tim behind him looking exasperated.

“Welcome home,” Danny says from the kitchen. “I’m just finishing up the Fudge.”

Hearing the word Fudge Conner cheers before running to the kitchen door. “I call licking the spoon!”

Tim freezes before rushing to catch up with Conner. Danny’s Phantom Fudge was legendary and there was no way he was going to give up the right to lick the spoon without a fight. Conner may have super powers and a head start but he didn’t free Bruce from being stuck in the time stream with his boyfriends by just his good looks, though they certainly helped.

He looks around to see what can give him an advantage in his quest for legendary Fudge when he sees something that causes his heart to drop. League of Assassins garb peeking out through the hallways closet.

His mind began to work in overtime trying to figure out what this could mean. While it seems like one of the League’s assassins is for some reason hiding in his closet, that also makes very little sense. If one were here they would never make such a mistake. It could be one of Danny or Conner’s souvenirs that they liberated from the League when the three of them blew up a bunch of their bases. But that doesn’t explain why they would be in one of their apartment closets, they keep that stuff in the Nest with the rest of the stuff connected to their alter-egos. Though Danny does like to bring some of his inventions here to fiddle with sometimes, he usually phases them into things to hide them when he isn’t working on them.

As Tim prepares for a fight while trying to figure out the assassin grab Danny phases his head through the kitchen wall. “Tim want some Fudge?” he asks before looking at what caught Tim’s interest. “Why are you looking at where I tied up the Cultist Fruitloop?”

Tim’s eyes widen before turning to where Danny’s head was poking through the wall. “Ras?!” Tim squeaks. This catches attention from where he was gorging himself with Fudge. “Ra’s here?!” he asks while rushing towards them, getting ready to fight.

Danny phases through the rest of the wall before shrugging like he didn’t just say there was an immortal leader of a cult of assassins tied up in their closet.

“Well, he kind of just showed up and started ranting about how he would make you,” Danny says while gesturing towards Tim, “his, so I knocked him out with the anti-creep stick and tied him up before shoving him in the closet.”

Tim wanted to bang his head against the wall and from the look of it Conner wasn’t that far behind him in that thought. This was Ras for Ancients sake and here Danny was acting like he was some common thug.

“You don’t seem very concerned,” Conner said, stating the obvious.

Danny shrugs again, “Well yeah, I phased his weapons into me and tied him up. Plus the Original Fruitloop does stuff like this all the time. Doesn’t yours do it too?”

And that, that made sense. It wasn’t that Danny wasn’t taking it seriously, it was that he was used to it. They all were. Each of them had some older Creep that was obsessed with them. He had Ras to deal with, Conner had Luthor, and Danny had been dealing with Masters for years. Honestly, if Masters or Luthor showed up and acted like Ras did he would have tied them up and stuffed them in the closet too.

“Just tell us sooner next time,” Tim sighs.

Danny chuckles nervously while rubbing the back of his head., “Yeah, will do. I just kind of forgot since he showed up in the middle of me making the Fudge.”

Conner gasps, leaning against the wall like he had just heard the most sacrilegious of news. “He interrupted the sacred ritual that is the making of Fudge?!?!” Conner then continues with his hand on his heart, “The audacity.”

Danny snorts while Tim facepalms. It’s moments like this that made him wonder why he loves these two idiots.

“Why is he tied up like a pig?” Conner asks after opening the closet, looking at Ras.

“Because he is one,” Danny absentmindedly replied.

And then it was moments like this that he remembers why.

#danny phantom #dcu #dcxdp #dp + dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #conner kent #superboy #tim drake #super dead tired ship #super dead tired #conner kent x tim drake #danny fenton x tim drake x conner kent #time zone au #conner kent x danny fenton #tim drake x danny fenton

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #vox x reader #valentino x reader #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello! I love your writing, especially the cult of the lamb stuff lately (I’m absolutely obsessed with the game) and was wondering if you could do something for Lamb with a follower! Reader that’s cynical but devoted to the cult because the lamb saved them, and how their relationship with the reader would evolve into something romantic?

Awh thank you!! This game is still an ever-present obsession ghshghs

.........

"Another gift? What's the meaning of this, Leader? Is there a reason for-?"

"Calm yourself, [y/n]. I only wanted to show my most devoted follower some appreciation."

"........."

"You can open it." Awkwardly shuffling their hooves, Lamb stood there as they watched you slowly unwrap the gift they had given you.

You wouldn't say it was "generous", considering how such an exchange is usually preceded by a favor ranging from assistance with a ritual to being forcibly converted into a demon.

It's not how most of your fellow followers would think, as they'd praise their leader for giving them presents and swear undying loyalty to them.

You're a little bit different.

After seeing that Lamb's gift was a golden plushie made in their likeness, you just frowned slightly. "It's...cute." Then you stuffed it into the pocket of your robe. "But don't think you can just woo me over with trinkets like these. If you're trying to turn me soft like the rest of your-"

"There is no ulterior motive behind my nice gesture, I can assure you. And this cult isn't making anyone "soft"." They scowled back, nearly baring their sharp teeth, but managing to hold back.

"...sure. Now may I be dismissed?"

"Yes. You may go back to whatever you're doing."

Huffing, you left for your sheltered home, leaving Lamb to reflect on why your attitude was so....foul today. But then again, they remembered a very important trait of yours that a few followers shared with you:

Cynicism.

Right from the start, your faith in this cult was low. And your loyalties weren't so easily boosted by gifts, confessions, decorations, and sermons...and yet despite your pessimistic ways of thinking, you've yet to actually dissent.

Dissenters usually began with the most cynical of followers, but you never acted like you hated Lamb themselves nor the way they run things here.

In fact, it's true you're the most devoted. You've gone to every sermon, assisted with rituals when needed, and even guided the young on the ways of this cult and aided the elderly.

You were everything Lamb wanted...

The only issue was your attitude towards their kindness.

But after a little bit of mindreading, they were aware that you've been in a different cult long before this one.

Your former leader had also done nice things for you, providing the basic necessities you've craved....all to make you gullible and willing to follow their every word.

Then they betrayed you to the Bishops of the Old Faith without a warning. You've done no wrong and never spoke out against anything they've done.

You never mattered to them. You were just a means to an end. A tool to help strengthen their cult and appease those "gods".

So even after Lamb saved you from the sacrificial altar, that bitterness and fear lingered. You were hesitant to let your guard down....especially when you became showered in gifts as thanks for your devotion.

In the back of your mind, you anticipated when they'd betray you when you least expected it--or perhaps they'd listen to the ludicrous idea of sacrificing or jailing you as some sick "prank" by another follower just to entertain them.

Surely, you were all just tools and entertainment to this sheep, right?

Yet there was a big part of you that didn't want to believe that..

You wanted to believe they were genuine in their gestures.

..........

"The Lamb has abandoned you all!! They are no hero!! They will fall to Bishop Shamura!!!"

"...really? It's too early for this crap.."

After going to bed feeling somewhat content, you woke up feeling groggy and annoyed as you heard some dissenter shouting nonsense outside. You drew back your shelter's curtain to see Hauras stationing himself near the shrine, holding a megaphone made of twigs.

Normally, the elders would be doing their morning prayers at the center, but with the scorpion being an absolute nuisance and a danger...they had no choice but to pray elsewhere.

It's no surprise that he was gonna be sour over his defeat and subsequent indoctrination for a long time, as he was the last of Shamura's keepers.

Speaking of whom, Lamb was still on their long crusade to finally kill the last standing bishop for good.

Even so, that pest thought demoralizing the cult's faith in them would be effective. But you weren't going to listen to this all damn morning.

And besides, your leader has tasked you with collecting lumbar as some new trees have recently sprouted. You've chopped them all down.....except for the one Hauras was standing right beside.

Lucky you.

Rolling your eyes, you just went ahead to make yourself breakfast, eating as you watched the other followers closely. A few of the overzealous ones shrugged off his words and continued on with their day, although some of the newer members looked confused and even anxious, thinking he was right about Lamb.

At that point, he began drawing a small crowd, but as you finally approached with an axe, they dispersed.

Hauras sneered, eyes literally seething red. "What do you want?"

"I wish you would take your little tirade elsewhere so our elders to pray here. Plus I need to chop down the-."

"You're [y/n], aren't you? The one who always second-guesses Lamb's "kindness"?" He chittered with a small smirk. "I've seen how you've acted around them...you hate them, don't you?"

"I don't hate them." You scowled. "They saved-"

"Sure, they saved you...but only because you're a means to an end." He taunted. "You don't have to lie around me. You think they're selfish..greedy..and no different from the Bishops of the Old Faith. They seek to replace them, but they won't replace Lord Shamura. I may have failed, but I know they-"

Fed up, you swiped the megaphone from his pinchers, throwing it towards a nearby boulder and smashing it to pieces.

He gasped. "How DARE YOU-?!!" After trying to whip his tail at you in retaliation, you dodged and managed to trip him, causing him to hit the ground hard as he laid on his back, groaning.

Then you stomped on his tail, hearing his pained yell that attracted the attention of other nearby followers. You, however, paid no mind to them. "You talk too much."

"R-Release me!!"

"I can....but first tell me one thing, Hauras."

"...what?"

"How badly do you need this stinger?"

His eyes widened with terror as he saw the blade of your axe glistening in the morning sunlight, hovering dangerously close to where his stinger connected to the tip of his tail.

"N-No.." He shuddered. "You wouldn't dare.."

"Then maybe I ought to tell Lamb you're singing praises about Shamura...and we'll see if it's more than just your stinger that you lose." You had a menacing glint in your eyes.

"Please..they would never-!!"

"[Y/n]. Hauras."

You both froze and looked to see Lamb suddenly standing there, their expression full of bewilderment at what was happening before them.

The moment you took your foot off of Hauras' tail, he scrambled to his feet and ran over to them. "Great Leader! They threatened to rip out my stinger!" He kneeled down, feigning tears. "You must punish them! They are-!"

"I've heard everything, Hauras." They cut him off, giving him a stern glare. "You're dissenting again, threatening our elders, and I'm honestly getting quite sick of it. But don't worry about defending Shamura anymore...for I've claimed their heart."

From the pockets of their cloak, they revealed the purplish thorn-wrapped organ, surprising both of you.

The scorpion, however, got up and scurried away to vomit somewhere, utterly repulsed by the sight and smell of blood.

It's clear to say he wasn't going to dissent anymore.

You scoffed. "That was one of Shamura's finest warriors, capable of melting his enemies from the inside out....and he gets disgusted by that?"

"It surprised me, too." Lamb glanced at you, smiling a little as they put the heart away. "I appreciate you defending me in my absence-"

"He was trying to put words in my mouth, and I didn't like that." You quickly spoke, trying to hide your flustered expression. "Like all scorpions, he was being a little pest...and this cult has no time for that."

"...that is true. The One Who Waits wishes to speak with me after I've broken all the chains, but for now..allow me to help you cut down this tree." The Red Crown flew off their head, turning into a gleaming axe in their hands. "It's pretty sturdy-looking. Should give us enough lumbar to improve the shelters."

"....alright. Thanks for the assist, Leader." Was all you said before heading over to the tree, while they hung back for a moment to process what you said to them.

A simple thank you.

That was all they've been wanting to hear from you for a long time, and you said it! To them!

It made their smile grow tenfold, before they quickened their pace in following you, ignoring the calls of their other followers. They could feel their own tail wagging with delight.

Were you finally warming up to them?

............

"Come dance with me, [y/n]!"

"...I don't dance."

"In this cult, we do. Now c'monnn.." Lamb tugged on your hands, pouting much like a needy child as you rolled your eyes.

Who would have thought someone with such a sweet face would change the lands of the Old Faith forever?

At last, they usurped the One Who Wait--or Narinder, as he was called--proving themselves worthy of the crown that many, yourself included, believed they didn't deserve.

Although you were still shaken up after being kidnapped and almost sacrificed to him (alongside the entire cult)...you saw that terrified look upon your leader's face, and realized there's no way they could have known..

Narinder had tricked all of you, and Lamb fought back not just for their own life, but for everyone's as well.

Especially yours.

That's what ultimately restored your faith in them.

Once everything was said and done, a huge celebration commenced--and lasted for three whole days.

Tonight, for the grand finale, Lamb wished to have a dance around the bonfire. You and your followers worked hard to gather as much wood as possible, before they ignited it at sundown.

It was a beautiful sight, seeing the red flames flickering and the smoke rising high into the night sky, lighting up the cult grounds and golden decor. And seeing the followers cheer, dance, sing, and play music was a lovely thing to witness.

You, however, felt content with just observing the scene..

Or at least, until a certain sheep approached and offered you a dance.

So maybe they did find a way into your heart after all, but you insisted on entertaining them with only one short dance. Just so they stopped pestering you.

Yet it lasted longer than you thought.

Together you two shuffled, twirled, and swayed..all while some other followers took inspiration and danced with their significant others and crushes.

Yet all you could focus on was Lamb and their surprisingly elegant motions.

Nothing else.

Eventually, you both settled into a slow and gentle sway, embracing each other with them burying their face into your chest, listening to your heartbeat. The blush on your cheeks was nearly as red as your robe at this point.

But you took in this peaceful and intimate moment, your hand gingerly stroking the back of their wooly head. The Red Crown was absent, instead being on the ground beside your feet, looking up at you.

For a brief second, you gazed at it, your blush worsening as it gave you a single wink. 'Huh..they're comfortable enough to leave it off in my presence..? They trust me this much?'

"Is it wise to leave your precious crown where any fool can just steal it, Lamb?"

"Why? You fancy stealing it yourself, hm?" They looked up at you with a teasing smile. "You're the most precious thing to me..the crown is just a tool at the end of the day."

"Like all the followers you work to th...."

You stopped.

It suddenly just occurred to you that they called you "precious". But why?

Were they infatuated with you?

Were you infatuated with them?

Lamb tilted their head. "What's wrong, [y/n]?"

You only gazed back at them, at first completely tongue-tied as you saw the curious glint in their eyes, alongside the red fire that reflected off of them.

It made your heart beat fast. Heat rose to your cheeks again...and it wasn't because of the flames.

That's all it took for the final wall to crumble.

You sighed quietly, relaxing your shoulders as you offered them a tiny smile. "Nothing, my dear leader. For the first time since you've saved me, I feel...at peace being here with you. This place, and you, make me feel....safe."

Lamb nearly teared up at your words. "I'm glad. Would you like to be-?"

"Yes."

Their ears perked up with surprise. Now it was their turn to blush as scarlet covered their gray cheeks. "You...knew what I was going to say?"

"You're not the only mind-reader around here, Lamb." You chuckled at their cuteness. "If it's alright, I'd rather...take it slow. No rush to do a marriage ritual."

That took a big weight off their shoulders.

You understood what they wanted the most. You've always understood them better than anyone. Even Narinder himself.

They were so elated they couldn't help but pull you into a kiss, not minding all the followers gasping and cooing at the intimate display.

None of them mattered, though.

Only you two.

#clanask #anonymous #cult of the lamb x reader #cotl x reader #cotl lamb x reader #cotl lamb #follower reader

[sepublic]

            I wanna analyze part of the exchange between Luz and the Titan, because I’m seeing some people misunderstand it by claiming the show is saying that Luz doesn’t need to self-reflect because she always means well, unlike THOSE guys (Nevermind everything she and others have gone through up until this point). Maybe I’m repeating the obvious, but;

         “I’m not so kind. When I saw the Collector fly up to Belos, I hoped with all my heart I would see them blast him away, and-”

         Here we have Luz insinuating that she’s not kind, simply on account of wanting Belos dead; Nevermind the fact that she has plenty of justified reason to want gone someone who has maliciously caused her and her loved ones so much pain, trauma, and agony across so much time.

         “Hey, I can relate. I was willing to do anything to keep my kid safe. But I attacked the wrong person, dragged the Collector down here for nothing.”

         The Titan does relate to feeling shame over ugly emotions like hatred and anger, which can make people lash out; Bringing up how those feelings brought him to make a terrible mistake that would have a lasting ripple effect on the Boiling Isles up until now.

         “Does that make us as bad as Belos?”

         At which point, Luz drops the question, the false equivalency that it’s fair for her to nevertheless entertain for the sake of self-reflection; Does her and the Titan feeling anger and even hurting people over it, or planning to, make them as bad as Belos?

         “What? Have you been drinking Eda’s homemade apple blood?”

         The Titan’s skepticism over this false comparison is self-explanatory.

         “Well, Belos says he’s trying to save humanity, and we’re saying we want to save our families, so isn’t that the same thing? Don’t- Don’t these feelings come from the same place?”

         When Luz says ‘feelings’, she’s very much talking about anger, even hatred; The kind that drives people to fight and even hurt others. Belos is angry, but Luz notes that so is she, as was the Titan, and all of them claim to do this over loved ones they’re worried about, right? That’s the ‘same place’ she’s referring to.

         “Well, you assume Belos’ goal comes from a genuine place. But, that man doesn’t care about anything but his need to be the hero in his own delusion. And because of that, he fears what he can’t control.”

         That’s when the Titan clarifies the difference; The anger of the victim is not the same as the anger of the abuser. The anger of the oppressed is not comparable to the anger of the oppressor. Anger doesn’t necessarily make you the bad guy, especially when it moves people to do the right thing. Both Luz and the Titan are angry, yes; But they’re angry because they legitimately have loved ones, and themselves, who have been hurt, and are genuinely at stake here. They're still allowed to feel this way. They only want Belos dead because they can’t get him to stop hurting people, so this is the only option left to make him stop endangering others.

         Whereas Belos’ hatred is that of the colonizer; He never really had anyone at stake here. Humanity was never in any real danger, especially not Caleb, whom Philip consciously disrespects by going against everything Caleb stood for, despite Caleb having made it clear with an open-armed welcome that this would never have to exclude his love for his brother. Philip made the decision to choose a world over his brother, NOT Caleb who understood he should theoretically have both, as a parallel/foil to Luz who wants both, but is still struggling to accept she can have that.

         Dana confirmed at Pixelatl –and it’s fairly obvious even without said confirmation- that she based Belos off of televangelists, cult leaders, the conservative relative, etc. The first two especially are hardcore bigots, the kind who really double down on their prejudice, and actively make it happen on a larger scale; These are the kind of people who go past that reasonable point of being well-intentioned but misinformed about their biases.

         Yes, Luz and Belos are both angry, but Belos’ anger is that of the reactionary conservative, hence “fearing what he can’t control.” He claims to feel threatened, but unlike people like Luz who really are endangered and fighting for their lives, the only thing being threatened is Belos’ worldview of supremacy and self-righteousness, so like a lot of right-wing “morality police” and the like.

         In the end, TOH is calling out how bigotry did not start from a place of good intentions, which is fitting given Belos represents the type of OG bigot, the Puritans who were among many who made contact with the Native Americans and vice-versa; Prejudice was born as a way to justify narratives of power and control, by dehumanizing others and thus justifying their suffering and exploitation for the sake of those who ‘really’ matter. These narratives, when perpetuated, create self-fulfilling prophecies and issues that the misguided but well-meaning are concerned about, which leads them down flawed attempts to address these problems.

         This is to say people who genuinely mean well, who have been hurt and do have others at stake, can make mistakes; This very exchange reminds us that the Titan hurt the Collector, something she does nothing to justify, and something the viewers know was objectively wrong, and has deep consequences as we’re currently seeing. Luz and the Titan both contributed to the Collector falling into Belos’ hands, but while Luz was genuinely manipulated and didn’t realize what was going on, the Titan chose to lash out at a bystander because she couldn’t channel her anger successfully towards the Archivists.

         But the Titan has learned, and she’s recognized what she’s done as wrong, and she’s made efforts to undo and make up for that. And it’s important to remember how all of this was prompted by the genocide of the Archivists, who claim to be preserving life, yet destroy it when it does not heed their plans. People are still responsible on an individual level, but it’s also worth noting how the system can influence them, just as it did for Amity and Lilith. And the system was started by people who didn’t really have a system over their heads, or were rebelling against a different kind.

         It’s not as if TOH is saying you can’t mean well and make mistakes; So much of the show is about people meaning well and making mistakes, especially parents towards their children. And this is fitting since a well-meaning parent nevertheless hurting her child is the inciting incident of the series, and it’s something that is brought up and resolved in the previous episode between Luz and Camila. Hell, Luz herself understands that meaning well can hurt others, like when she kept secrets from Amity, under the guise of not wanting to burden her girlfriend.

         TOH still has plenty of examples of genuine intent leading to bad things; So it’s entirely reasonable, in this case, to bring up the original people who codified bigotry and prejudice, because being a freak and a weirdo does not happen in a vacuum, it is in relation to a society. At some point you have to discuss WHY someone is considered strange; Who designated the guidelines for the deviant, and by extension, what are the guidelines for what is ‘normal’, who decided this would be normal, and why? And that’s why the story brings these back to the settlers who made contact with the Native Americans and vice-versa, and established a precedent for prejudice towards these people.

         The point is that the show is refuting the centrist idea of Both Sides, that if you’re violent and/or angry then you’re just as bad as the oppressor, if not worse; Victims are allowed to be angry, they have a right to be upset, as Eda herself says. You can’t expect them to appeal solely by peace when that’s clearly not working out, hence Raine and Darius’ rebellions, which do necessitate violence at times, even if they’d love to minimize it and try; Which is why the finale shows the initially-cautious CATTs accepting covenscouts who are willing to change, why Kikimora is shown doing community service (and that's assuming it's not just a job given her lack of uniform; She may have been allowed to reintegrate into society as a regular citizen).

         Between the juxtaposition of the Collector hearing about how Amity and Lilith were successfully appealed to, and applying that to Belos, only for that to fail as Luz explains this individual situation is a bit more complicated… Basically, what the show is saying is that you should choose to be kind and give chances and grace, anyone can change; But people also have a right to prioritize themselves in self-defense, and just in general health, when people continue to refuse to reciprocate, and leave no other choice. Because there’s still responsibility on the other party to respond to these offers of kindness, and make the same choice to improve the world; They have free will, everyone does, and you can’t force people to be better, anymore than the Collector can force people to be their friends.

         Not to mention how victims have a right to be upset and don’t owe forgiveness, but at the same time, the concept of Restorative VS Retributive Justice argues that it’s better for the world if everyone improved; That doesn’t mean victims have to forgive or even necessarily help, because improving oneself does not rely on your victims doing you favors. It’s ultimately about harm reduction; Ideally, harm is reduced by helping people open their minds and change, but if that isn’t working and the person keeps hurting and even killing others, then yes, harm must be reduced by imprisoning, or even killing them in self-defense.

         Hence the difference in that Luz’s anger comes from ultimately wanting to reduce harm and being frustrated by those who continue to perpetuate it; Versus Belos whose anger isn’t really meant to prevent harm, but pointlessly cause more of it, because of his immature disgust towards those different, as well as the supremacy and selfishness that actively puts down others for Belos’ own sake (because Caleb isn’t allowed to have more than one person in his life, apparently).

         And note that Belos is already at the end of his life (because people only have so much time to change before it's cut short by death), because extending it requires sacrificing palismen, which goes against harm-reduction; So they can’t just imprison Belos without killing him. And in the end, the protagonists don’t prolong Belos’ misery by letting the boiling rain finish him off, they get it over with by stomping on him; Not only does this allow them to vent much-deserved anger towards an oppressor, but it cuts away any chance of Belos coming up with something last-second by just ending him right there. That reduces harm from Belos, and harm TO Belos, because his death isn’t any longer than it needs to be.

         And on Luz’s side, her not doing anything to Belos is justified because it’s about her refusing to help him, thus standing for herself and what she believes, and not letting this traumatic, gaslighting presence have any more power over her. Luz still allows her loved ones to finish off Belos; Her not responding to Belos is about reducing harm to herself.

         It’s a lot of stuff. It’s about balancing a lot of seemingly conflicting, opposite ideas, like Luz balancing two worlds; As she herself explains to the Collector, it can be “complicated.” It’s about nuance, and a case-by-case basis; Because note that the Titan doesn’t tell Luz that she will always be right because SHE always means well. Just that in this specific case, in regards to this specific guy, things are not equivalent. Hence why the Titan focuses on deconstructing Belos and not Luz. 

This moment specifically is breaking down colonial rhetoric by calling it out for what it actually is, because Belos is 100% a colonizer and this is one of the most important aspects of his character, and his contributions, to the narrative. And whatever mistakes Luz and the Titan made, at least they care enough to make up for it, because they really are trying to do this for others, instead of prioritizing an ego trip; That kind of mentality is doomed to being static. I'd argue the Titan isn't necessarily saying that Belos never cared about anyone (AKA Caleb) period, just that in the context of his 'protecting humanity' claim, he wasn't doing it for anyone because there was nobody in any actual danger, and he knows it. Philip wasn't actually concerned for Caleb's sake when he killed him.

#the owl house #luz noceda #boiling isles titan #analysis #meta #emperor belos #philip wittebane

[metalhoops]

Steddie Week Day 4:

Familiar / Hurt/Comfort / Here Come the Tears by Judas Priest

Eddie and Steve had never been close before the world went to hell. They’d known of each other, as everyone knows everyone in small town, middle America. They’d gone to the same school, smoked behind the same abandoned buildings and knew all the best places to make the worst decisions, but they hadn’t done it together. They were disparate figures, drifting around each other’s edges. That all changed in 1986 when through fate or chance the two boys had been flung together. 

By the summer of 1988, they’d grown into and around each other like vines beneath forest foliage. They’d become inseparable, familiar. Steve showed up outside the garage at closing time, the Beamer tearing down the gravel path, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. When Robin and the kids weren’t around, Steve drove fast, throwing caution to the wind. No one else knew that about him. Eddie did. 

He didn’t know what to do with all of the pieces of Steve that were uniquely his. He felt the illogical urge to write them down, catalogue each one as though designing a character for a new campaign. He wanted a record of each minute detail of Steve. 

“Your yuppie boyfriend’s tearin’ up the drive again, Manson,” Eddie's boss, Frankie, hollered from his spot behind the service desk. 

In the year he’d worked at the garage, he’d never seen the guy move from behind his desk, yet his hands were always grease-stained. Eddie hated his boss, but the job paid well enough. He was saving up to high tail it out of Hawkins, where nicknames like ‘The Freak’, and Frankie’s newest addition ‘Manson’, as in that Manson, the one with the cult in the 60s, weren’t so widespread. 

“I was off twenty minutes ago, Frankenstein. You want him to stop kickin’ up dust you could just let me off on time,” Eddie grumbled, grabbing a spare rag and trying to scrub the worst of the grease and engine gunk from his hands and overalls.  

“You think that carburettor was going to replace itself? You wanna finish on time? Work faster,” Frankie noted, punctuating his point by kicking his feet across the desk. Charming. 

Eddie made his way to the car, drummed his knuckles against the passenger door and waited as Steve leaned over to push it open, his precious seats covered haphazardly with one of Eddie’s ruined bandannas. This was their habit, how the two worked. Steve was wearing sunglasses, which usually meant he was fighting off a migraine. They’d been more frequent in recent months. Eddie blamed the hot weather. 

“How was your day?” Steve asked, starting the car.

Eddie flopped into the passenger seat and groaned. He let his body lay slack and boneless as the leather seats cradled him and the cool air from the A.C. took his breath away.

“That good, huh?” 

“Everyone’s cars decided to break down on the hottest day of the year and Frankenstein’s still giving me shit about being a cult leader. I think the dude used to hold out hope for you since you were the town's golden boy, but now he thinks there’s some kind of Stepford wife thing going on.” 

Steve snorted as he turned onto the familiar street leading to The Harringtons’ house. 

“I saw Dustin today. The kid wanted me to remind you, you’re picking the twerps up on Monday,” Steve informed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. The guy had no sense of rhythm, but Eddie never had the heart to tell him. 

“Remind me why you can’t,” Eddie muttered as Steve’s house came into view. 

“Because I work late and you get off by two.” 

“I thought you said my van was a ‘death trap’. I could always take your car,” Eddie proposed with a devilish smirk. 

That car was Steve’s baby. Not even he was allowed to drive it, save that one night in Indianapolis when Steve was drunk and Robin broke her wrist. They’d spent five hours together in the emergency room. It’d brought back all the wrong kind of memories for Steve and Eddie could tell. 

Steve and Eddie talked about everything except Eddie’s stay in hospital and defining the liminal space between platonic and romantic, their relationship had been drifting for the past six months.  

“In your dreams, Munson. You staying at mine tonight?” Steve asked, pulling up and walking around to open Eddie’s door for him. 

He always made excuses about Eddie getting engine oil all over the passenger door, but he thought Steve liked playing chivalrous in the same way he liked playing up his less-than-stellar reputation.  

Steve kept asking him to spend the night. Eddie had his own drawer in Steve’s room. He couldn’t help but feel like he was asking him to move in. Eddie kept turning him down, not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life in Hawkins, even if it was with Steve. He’d tried to convince himself he’d be able to do it, so they could get out of their goddamn stalemate and get on with the rest of their lives. Yet, Hawkins had always been inhospitable for the likes of people like him and the person Steve was becoming.

“If you’re cookin,” Eddie agreed, unbuttoning his overalls.

By the time Steve found his keys, Eddie had managed to strip the sweat-slicked clothes from his body and dumped them unceremoniously on the front stoop. The good thing about rich people’s houses? No neighbours for miles. 

They followed the same old routines. Eddie made his way upstairs to shower while Steve started prepping for dinner. Once Eddie didn’t smell like the inside of a boys' locker room, he returned to find Steve spaced out in the kitchen. 

Eddie’s heart was a hummingbird in flight. Steve’s body was stock still, his eyes a thousand miles away. 

“Steve,” Eddie breathed, signalling his approach. 

He tried to focus on the kitchen. This wasn’t two years ago. Vecna was dead. 

He laced his fingers into the crook of Steve’s elbow and finally caught the boy’s attention, the pot on the stove having boiled dry. 

“Migraine?” Eddie asked as Steve’s eyes snapped shut, frown lines marring the landscape of his forehead. 

“Yeah,” Steve confirmed through gritted teeth as Eddie guided him to the couch, switching off the lights on the way.

“Looks like you’re going to have to put up with the Munson special then, eggs on toast,” He breathed, sitting down beside Steve and guiding his head into his lap. 

He’d sat through a couple of Steve’s migraines. Sometimes they were fast and painless as a sun shower, other times he’d spend hours disorientated and puking up his guts. There wasn’t much Eddie could do for him, but sit there and be with him for it. In sickness and in health, all that crap. Eddie wasn’t sure when he’d become close enough to Steve that he’d sit through anything with him, but he knew now he would. 

“Stevie, you know when I get outta this hellhole, I’m taking you with me, right?” Eddie breathed, feeling the sudden need for candour. 

Sometime in the space between getting to know Steve and getting to love Steve, they’d crossed the line from familiar to familial.

Steve’s face nudged against Eddie’s palm, his forehead beaded with sweat. 

“I’d like that,” he confirmed. 

“We’d have to take Robin with us, though,” Steve added after a beat, causing Eddie to let out a breathy chuckle and dip down to press their foreheads together.  

“Fine by me, long as you’re there.” 

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddieweek2023 #steddieweekprompts #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #ficlet #drabble #steddie ficlet #stranger things 4 #stranger things #I'm getting this one out right before bed #but I made it #Metalhoops writes

[autistichalsin]

I wonder if you have thoughts on like.... the other members of his grove? and halsin relating to them? bc apart from rath and maybe two more, they all seem very dicky to me 🤔 and ya, halsin said it's been a burden, and being a kind-hearted dude like him leading a bunch of bastards that think so highly of themselves could definitely contribute to the stress. I guess i don't get it? the one at the steps by the bear is like 'hold on give them a chance' @ the bear when we come in but then in the same breath is like 'no step further or i show you my claws' and seems like has to be talked down from being hostile by third druid; then later when we stop the ritual she's like 'we stopped the chanting but that doesn't give you the right to be disrespectful to this place' and some rando other druid went something along the lines of 'you're overstaying your welcome' - im just thinking how horrible halsin's life must have been surrounded by pricks like that 😔

Short version: yeah, everyone but Rath, Nettie, and Apikusis suck lol

Long version: everyone but Rath, Nettie, and Apikusis suck, BUT you can see several who are having doubts about what they're doing, and many of them come back to themselves once Halsin returns.

There were, I think, multiple things going on here:

By his own admission, Halsin wasn't a very strong leader. He never had leadership skills taught or modeled for him before becoming Archdruid, and further, his promotion was under incredibly traumatic circumstances. The survivor guilt, the admiration he had towards the previous Archdruid, likely left him not wanting to fully engage with the role out of fear of replacing him or at least seeming to do so.

The refugee situation was noted to be causing stress at the Grove as supplies were dwindling (I guess we're supposed to forget Goodberry is a spell ANY Druid can do, lol). This would have not only sown resentment against Halsin and the refugees for putting them in this situation, but crucially, it would have given an outsider enemy for the Grove. Cults (like the Shadow Druids) operate at their strongest when they have a threat, or appearance of one, to unite members and potential members under. "We are the only ones who can keep you safe from these outsiders who may be from hell itself, who are using all your supplies and contributing nothing, who are the reason you're being attacked by goblins every other day." And Halsin, as much as I love him, showed poor judgment in going with the goblins at that precise moment, and with little explanation to the others. It shows where his heart and priorities are- always with the Shadow-Cursed Lands first- but that would not be an endearing things for his stressed Druids.

Kagha not only fell in with this cult, but unfortunately, she had a lot of what Halsin was lacking as a leader- she just chose to use this skills for evil. She was persuasive (something Halsin admits he wasn't so good at), she presented herself as being concerned with the group's welfare in a way Halsin wasn't quite able to do (since his heart was elsewhere), and her zealotry seemed preferable to the other Druids in contrast to Halsin's mixed attention.

This cannot be understated: the Grove was deliberately targeted by Ketheric Thorm. He knew from experience that the Grove posed a significant threat, and he ordered his underlings to make contact with the Shadow Druids and send them to the Emerald Grove, to either persuade them to carry out the Rite of Thorns or at least cause so much division that the social bonds collapsed entirely and the Grove was left too divided to be able to accomplish anything. Ketheric and the Shadow Druids were able to find all of the above weaknesses and exploit them effortlessly.

So then it became a game of scapegoating, which is a favored recruitment technique of cults. "We're here because of the Other, and because our leader was too weak to fix the problem before it got this bad. We need a new leader; a leader who cares only for us and isn't afraid to tell the truth about these immigrants refugees who want to destroy America our Grove by leading gangsters and drug lords goblins right to us! Build the Wall Perform the Rite of Thorns!"

No one is immune to propaganda and everyone is a potential target for cults. It very well could be that all of the Druids, even Kagha, were once genuinely kind people who were manipulated by the cult into believing their kindnesses would get the Grove destroyed; they took on the "it's us or them" mentality.

For the timeframe to work, it either would have had to be happening in secret before Halsin left, or Halsin would have had to be gone for a while; since we know it wasn't TOO terribly long but hadn't JUST happened either, my guess is that Kagha had been spreading Shadow Druid doctrine in secret for some time, and had been planning to usurp Halsin's position even if he hadn't been kidnapped. That just made it easier once it happened. (There is a formal process within the Druids to challenge an Archdruid for their position; I don't know if Halsin even would have fought Kagha that hard if she kept her true intentions a secret. He had faith in her at this point after all, and didn't want the leadership position. That's a terrifying thought.)

So, then, Halsin comes back, and sees evil ideas spreading in all his Druids, starting with Kagha. Depending on the player's actions, he may or may not know it goes deeper than her. He can also see that his reputation has been severely damaged, if not ruined, in his absence; almost none of the Druids have any respect for him anymore. So he makes the wise decision to bring in Francesca, who they have no choice but to respect, and backs away himself. At this point, he intends to return someday when the Druids have been deprogrammed, but of course, later he decides it's not worth it anyway.

So back to: how bad must his life have been surrounded by that? Well, as mentioned, my headcanon is he wasn't surrounded by it very long, if at all. He thought everything was just normal, until he got back from being kidnapped and quickly found it very much wasn't. Whether that's better or worse, though, is up to interpretation. What's worse- seeing those you love fall victim to a cult, or thinking everything is completely fine, and then one day discovering they've been sucked in deep and there's nothing you can do to persuade them anymore since they've come to see you as The Enemy?

In any case, Halsin deserved much better, and I like to think he keeps in touch with Nettie, Rath, and Apikusis after the epilogue, even if he keeps his distance from the Grove itself.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #kagha

[nyxronomicon]

Words Like Honey

siren!Geto x GN reader

cw: mind control/manipulation/hypnosis, non-con/dub-con (reader is mind controlled), praise, cult leader!Geto, soft dom, slight dumbification/bimbofication, begging, penetration (unspecified anal or vaginal) nicknames: darling, pet, baby

part of monsterfucktober!

"Come in." Geto's voice called to you through his office door. Although you were a recent addition to his cult, he already noticed how easily you were enchanted by his voice.

"Hello," you smiled nervously. Your heart raced as you took in his appearance up close. You briefly wondered if he was responsible for the clean look or if he had assistants to make sure he was presentable. Either way, you couldn't keep your eyes off him.

"Curious why I invited you here?" He asked, a playful lilt to his voice. It sounded so nice, his honeyed tone drawing you in much more than the usual sermon. Perhaps it was the intimacy of being in an office alone with him.

"Yes, very." You quickly nodded.

"I've noticed you're quite the enthusiastic member of my little organization." He smiled softly. He'd carefully crafted this speech and tested parts of it on a few other cult members, but he'd been waiting for the perfect candidate to utilize its full powers. And now he had you.

Geto had been watching you during his sermons for a while now. It was incredible how quickly and deeply you succumbed to the sound of his voice; it was truly adorable. He'd been biding his time, waiting for the perfect excuse to get you alone.

"I like to meet with passionate followers such as yourself who share my beliefs. This conversation can be as short or as long as you like." Geto watched the telling glaze of your eyes and your now relaxed expression. His pause in speech pulled you out of your daze before he added, "what do you think?"

You attempted to piece together his words, thinking you must be really nervous to have forgotten them so quickly. You weren't aware the man in front of you was a siren, enchanting you with his honeyed voice.

"Sorry, I'm a little nervous, to be honest." You smiled sheepishly. "What was the question?"

Geto chuckled, his laughter gently pulling you back in. "Never mind. Just relax, my dear. I can do all the talking if you want." He grinned when you nodded. "There's really nothing for you to be nervous about. I don't bite." He watched the haze reappear in your vision, your body relaxing again.

"Why don't you come a little closer?" He tilted his head, eyes on you as you moved forward. "Don't be shy. I'd have you right on my lap if it was up to me."

"I'd like to be on your lap, too." The words fell out of your mouth before you could think. In fact, you were having trouble following any train of thought at all, but your response pulled you out of the haze enough to feel the embarrassment of that response. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry about it." Geto's words instantly calmed you. "It's kind of cute, actually. I love it when people are honest with me about their feelings." You relaxed again, his soothing words the only thing echoing in your head as you mindlessly moved forward. "It shows trust. Do you trust me?"

"Yes." This time your answer didn't break your trance.

"Then come here." He smiled. "Come be my mindless pet for a little while and sit on my lap, hm?"

Your body moved itself to him, taking a seat on his thighs. His hands instantly found your hips, his warmth seeping into you.

"You just fall so deeply for me, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. His speech was now saturated with his siren sound, far more intense than anything you'd ever heard. You didn't have a chance of resisting even his normal voice. This was certainly far more than you could handle. But that was the point. To have you stupid and horny and bouncing on his cock because he told you to.

"You're so easy to manipulate. Just a few short sentences and you're on my lap." His hands slipped under your shirt, feeling your bare skin. "You wanted this, didn't you? You were desperate for me to notice you. For me to take advantage of you. Nod your head, darling."

You obediently nodded, your mind nothing but a swirl of his essence. His voice, his touch, and his scent amplified as you fell deeper into the trance with every word he spoke. Your vision was blurred, your mind no longer processing anything that wasn't the siren whispering in your ear.

"That's it. So good for me." Geto chuckled softly as his hands roamed up your torso. "You're horny, aren't you? You want to give yourself to me?" You simply nodded, allowing him to touch you wherever he pleased.

"Take your clothes off." He watched as your body stiffened, removing your shirt, then standing to remove your pants. You turned to face him, obeying again when he commanded you to straddle him.

"Just look at how hazy those eyes are." He held your cheek, and you nuzzled into it. He could practically see the little hearts in your pupils as you hung into his every word. "You're so pretty when you're like this. Did I ever tell you that? How fucking pretty you are staring at me like that?"

Geto began touching you again as he spoke. "It was driving me crazy to watch how deeply you fall during my sermons. God, I've been wanting to fuck you ever since you first attended." He toyed with your nipples, watching your expression become even more lustful. "Did you know how focused I was on you?"

You silently shook your head, your whole body tingling with pleasure the longer he spoke. His hands found your sex, rubbing you as you gasped. He smirked in response.

"Of course you didn't. You're always so attentive while I speak. Even now, you're a lost little lamb, and I'm a wolf dressed as a shepherd." Geto gathered the essence from your slit on his fingers and brought them to your lips.

"Open." He commanded. You obeyed, parting your lips and sloppily licking his fingers clean. Drool decorated your lips and dripped down his hand. He grinned at how far gone you were.

"Wouldn't you love to fuck yourself on my cock?" Geto smiled, slowly tugging at his robes to show more of his chest. You nodded eagerly as he guided your hands downward, exposing his dick. "Go ahead, darling. Make yourself cum."

His body was so warm. Touching him felt so good. Hearing his voice was like ecstasy. You let yourself fall deeper and deeper under his spell simply because it felt amazing. Your body was alight with desire, yearning for more of him as you lined yourself up with his cock.

His hands pressed on your hips, digging into your skin as you slowly pushed onto his cock. Pleasure rushed through you, although you couldn't pinpoint the source with your mind scrambled like this.

"That's it, baby. Just a little more, you can take it." Geto stroked your cheek, watching your lust-heavy eyes as you hung into his every word.

"God," he hissed as you bottomed out, feeling yourself stretch around his cock. "It's like you were fucking made for me. You feel so fucking good." Geto thrust his hips, sending a wave of bliss to your core.

"Did you forget?" He chuckled. "Your instructions were to make yourself cum." Your expression was blank, but you nodded slightly. "Or do you need to fall deeper for me? Don't tell me I'm not enough for you." Geto laced his words with more of his siren enchantment, your head finally dropping onto his shoulder, completely entranced.

Your mind swirled with the desire to please him. Your body felt heavy, but the touch of his deft fingers kept you buzzing with pleasure. He was everything. This feeling was everything. You would do anything for him. Just his smooth voice was enough to make you twitch around him, your eyes flickering open at his next question.

"How does it feel to be mine, darling?" He grinned, watching your head slowly lift.

"So good." You whined, slowly lifting your hips and bringing them down before setting the pace to bounce on his dick. His head fell back, basking in the pleasure the friction created.

"You're so good for me, darling. Keep going. You feel amazing." Geto's fingers found your arousal, rubbing you as you pistoned on his cock. Your pace was quick but erratic. You were extremely sensitive, as heat quickly piqued in your core.

"That's it. You're so close, aren't you?" Your sex pulsed with need, desperate for release as you moved faster. Your core coiled in tension. He was right. You were so incredibly close, but your mind was too far gone to do anything but bounce and let the tension build until it was almost painful.

"You know what's next. You ready?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded and whimpered, weak unintelligible begging slipping from your lips as Geto smirked. His cock throbbed, close to the edge himself as he let you speed up again. He chuckled as your whining got louder, his power over you making him moan into your ear.

"Ok darling. Cum." His voice was hoarse, enchantment thick in the final word as ecstasy exploded within you, obediently cumming all over him. Geto's seed spilled into you shortly after, feeling the clench of your aftershocks as your movement slowed and the mind control faded.

Your body relaxed in his arms as the haze in your mind began to clear. He ran his fingers up and down your bare spine, his cock still buried deep within you.

"Remind me, darling." As he spoke, you drifted back into his trance. "Who do you belong to?"

"You." Just after you spoke, the trance completely dissipated. Your memories since walking into his office were fragmented at best. Panic briefly flew through your brain, unsure of how you ended up stuffed with his cock.

"I'm so glad you feel the same way." Geto's honeyed tone instantly calmed your mind, and you relaxed in his arms once again.

#jjk smut #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #kinktober 2023 #monsterfucktober

[insxghtt]

soulmates — kappa x reader

(sorry if this is a mess, i wrote it last night under the influence of a high dose of quetiapine. my insomnia fellas will understand.)

i see a lot of people talking about kappa as this bad boy figure, kinda similar to euronymous but, in my mind, kappa is waaayyy more charming. i mean, he has to be! after all, he is a cult leader and cult leaders rarely show their followers explicit violence.

i think what we saw in black mirror was the dark side of kappa, one that he only shows to his most faithful followers. the other side we didn't get to see is the kind kappa, the personality he has on most of the time. this manipulative, charismatic, charming kappa is the one who would convince you to do the most insane things for him.

first one, joining a cult. but, of course, you didn't call it a cult. no, you called it a family.

kappa was very good at reading people and as soon as he laid eyes on you, he knew you were an easy target. you were so fragile, so he did what no one else ever thought about doing. he took care of you. he showed you love.

it was hard to see kappa as this evil cult leader because he was the kindest soul you had ever met. he was different from all of the other men you had in your life. he treated you with respect.

kappa genuinely loved you. it wasn't healthy, but he genuinely loved you. gosh, he was obsessed with you. you were his godess. he knew about every detail about your life, which is why it was so easy for him to manipulate you into staying. that's why you never even realized that you were trapped.

but again, maybe kappa wasn't the only one with a dark side. you had it in you and he could see it too, which is why he chose you in the first place. the two of you were a mix made in hell.

he was possessive over you, but you were just the same way. although kappa wasn't monogamic, he was faithful to you because he could never ever ever be so obsessed with anyone else.

you two had this open, confused, agitated relationship, but there was one rule you two followed whithout question, and that rule was: other people were only allowed if the two of you consent to it.

other people could only have you, touch you, want you when he was right there watching, and vice versa.

the few times kappa lost his temper in front of the other followers, it was because of you. well, not you, but other man trying to get to you without your (and his) consent. kappa would suddenly become a beast, filled with rage.

he had the other guy pinned against the wall with a knife against his throat. the man was clearly intoxicated, which was the reason why he dared to even approach you in the first place. everyone knew you belonged to kappa. no one would dare to mess with you.

the guy was having a hard time breathing, too scared to even blink. kappa was staring into his soul like a mad man. everyone else in the room, who were partying just a few minutes ago, was now frozen in silence.

you were watching as you thought that maybe you should intervene and try to calm him down, but you didn't really want to. kappa looked so pretty when he was mad. his rough hands were holding the guy by his shirt, the veins in his arms and neck were more visible, his messy hair was covering part of his face, but you could still see his eyes burning with rage.

you rolled your eyes and touched his shoulder delicately and kappa immediately felt his muscles relax. he let go of the guy and watched as he ran away out of the room.

you were kappa's favorite drug. just one small dose of you was enough to make him forget all of his problems.

he turned to you and you gave him a kiss on the lips. just like that, kappa could hardly remember about what had just happened.

but when you were jealous, things were a little different. from times to times, when someone new joined the family, you would notice a girl staring at kappa in a more seducive, flirty way. kappa was very attractive and charming and everyone in the family looked up to him. some people developed feelings for him in the process and you hated it.

and when bitches try to get your man, that's when you become a beast yourself.

you were not as impulsive as kappa. no, you carefully observed and waited for the right time to get rid of them. you were quiet, calm and precise. not only you would stop them from getting what was yours, you would make sure they were completely removed from your lives.

out of the sudden, one of the guns would magically disappear for a day or two, just to be found later in the bag of clothes of one of the new girls. she swore she hadn't taken it, but you didn't believe her and, if you didn't, kappa didn't believe her either.

so you tried to hide your smile as you watched him send her away. he hated to do that, but one thing that kappa valued the most was honesty and he refused to let someone who had lied about stealing one of his guns be part of the family.

kappa would never know. behind his back, you made sure to keep all the girls away from him. of course you were good to them most of the time. you loved some of those girls like they were your sisters, but the ones who didn't respect the rules were easily discarted.

it wouldn't be right to say that you and kappa were a good match, but you two were definitely soulmates. he was made for you, you were made for him and nothing in the world could ever change that.

#kappa black mirror #kappa x reader #kappa #rory culkin x y/n #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin fanfic #rory culkin #in my rory culkin era #culkin cult #culkin brothers #jack thurlow x reader #jack thurlow #jack goes home #rory culkin lords of chaos #intruders 2015 #intruders movie #intruders #danny cooper x reader #danny cooper #writers of tumblr #my wriring #female writers #black mirror #black mirror kappa

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

Wayne thought perhaps Eddie had a cold after the third sniffle sounded from behind Eddie's closed bedroom door, and made a mental note to check the date on the back of the medicine bottle left over from the previous time sickness had struck the Munsons down.

But then he heard a muffled sob, followed by a whimper and a sniffle and then -

Wayne was up and out of his seat in seconds. Didn't hesitate as he rapped with a knuckle on the bedroom door. "Eddie?"

A rough sniffle, a quiet, "shit, shit" and then rustling before the door cracked open. Eddie looked rough; his eyes all red, his cheeks damp and sticky with tears, skin blotchy, some hair stuck to his face where he'd roughly smeared tears across his skin.

Wayne suppressed a sigh, motioned towards the bed as he let himself in, sat down with Eddie. He didn't say anything; Eddie would open up when he was ready to, and not before. If Wayne tried to pry, Eddie would put his walls back up so fast he'd never know that Eddie was ready and willing to let them down in the first place.

His blue eyes were soft as he looked at the boy he had raised so well - given the circumstances, Eddie had turned out beautifully - and Eddie cracked yet again, turning his head away so Wayne could only see the dark curtain of Eddie's hair. He pinched the bridge of his nose and Wayne let him hide in himself.

He'd come out of his shell when he was ready - clearly, he wanted to talk. If Eddie didn't want to, he would have left the room or otherwise made it known.

"Do you - " Eddie exhaled roughly, shook his head, his hair brushing the tops of his shoulders, "believe them?"

Wayne winced, immediately knowing what Eddie was referring to.

Freak. Cult leader. Dangerous. Devil worshipper. Drug dealer.

Only one of those things were true; Wayne didn't necessarily approve of it, but Eddie had his reasons and he trusted him. He defended Eddie against ignorant people every day and now he had to defend Eddie on his own behalf... it put a bitter taste in his mouth but he swallowed it down, focused on his Eddie. His kind, sweet, greatly misunderstood boy.

Wayne shook his head. "No, son. You know I don't."

Eddie choked and his head whipped around to look at his Uncle, eyes wide, glistening with tears.

Wayne continued. Had to hammer the moment home.

"You're innocent." At Eddie's incredulous look, Wayne smirked, "I've seen you cry at Bambi, my boy. It's just not in your nature to be what the town says." Wayne shrugged easily, raising his arm as he saw Eddie shuffling over. His boy folded himself into Wayne's side and Wayne rubbed his hand up and down Eddie's arm, squeezing him in a half hug.

Eddie sniffled and leaned his head on Wayne's shoulder, dark curls spilling over red and blue plaid. They stayed there together for long enough that Eddie stopped crying into Wayne's shoulder and slumped down until his head was on his lap. Wayne's hands found Eddie's hair and brushed his fringe away.

"More'n you know, Eddie." Wayne patted Eddie's shoulder, "You're more'n you know. S'bout time someone showed you."

Eddie wiped a hand over his face, sat up and gave Wayne a shaky smile. It was full of gratitude and affection, soaked his next words. "You do, dad. Every day."

Wayne's heart squeezed and now he was the one who wanted to cry.

Munson family tags @hellfirebabe @eddiemunsonshoney @alliecheer007-88 missfangirl-slightly-obsessive @bakerstreethound @gemstone-roses @sweetpeapod

#wayne and eddie munson #eddie munson #wayne munson #eddie munson x reader #(tagging for exposure)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for writing an essay and sending it to the sheriff?

This sounds so dumb but

I grew up Christian. I still believe most of it. Me and my family have always beenlaid back, don't judge, God loves all type people. I know there are some Christians who don't believe that- we aren't that kind and they give it a bad name I get it.

But my sister. I love her, I do, but she didn't know what she wanted to do when she graduated high school. She graduated the year before me and decided she would go do this "discipleship" program a woman had given a talk on.

We both were under the impression that going to this program, she would get the necessary coursework to become a pastor. Which, technically, they did do the coursework.

Except it was a cult. 100% a cult. Not every religion is a cult, but a lot of cults have religious aspects. I know without a doubt this was a cult.

Things she went through: wasnt allowed to get a job the first year she was there and was financially dependent on the leader to find them "charity" work and "fundraising" opportunities, all had to live at apartments the leader owned and pay him rent to live there, everyone was called family, was placed on restrictive diets that eventually got less restrictive the longer you stayed, got sprayed with a water hose for being unable to memorize Scripture, weekly had to thank the leader for allowing them to be there and include him in their prayers, etc.

After the first year you are there, you get more responsibility if you come back a second year. Those who didn't come back a second year are encouraged to not be talked to. Third and fourth years are invites only, but by the third year you are so indoctrinated they invite you *anyone who showed any signs of insecurity or questioning were not invited back*. After the fourth year, every single person has joined the staff or helps work for this group.

It grosses me out and I didnt even write half of what my sister went through. My sister got out after her third year because she was in a car accident and had to do extensive therapy to recover. She is fine now, but misses the group. She is convinced it isnt a cult.

I wrote down things she has said as well as things I was told by an excommunicated member. I used citations of well known cults as examples, and even cited different models and psychological papers.

I submitted it all as evidence to the local sheriff of where the cult is based. My sister and the member were not named. My sister found out and freaked out, saying they would never take her back if they found out what I did. Then she said she was scared they would harm me. She finally doubled back and claimed it wasn't a cult and I caused a ton of innocent people to lose their jobs as well as their homes if the leader gets arrested. I hadn't thought about that and felt bad about the families and innocent kids involved.

So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[chthonic-cassandra]

Recent books, fiction -

Emma Cline, The Girls - a teenage girl in the late 1960's ends up on the outer edges of a Manson-like (very closely Manson-like) cult. This was okay, but not great, falling too often into cliches about teenage girlhood and lacking a sharp understanding of cult dynamics. By basing the fictional cult in the novel so closely on Charles Manson's Cline gets to handwave a bunch of things about how and why it works, but the seams in the construction show through anyway; Cline's understanding about what leads people to join and stay in these kinds of groups, and how the internal dynamics function, seemed to me persistently surface-level. The strongest part of the novel is the protagonist's potent desire for one of the closest inner circle girls in the cult, which is the reason she becomes entangled much more than any draw from the cult leader himself. There was something interesting there, if Cline had focused on it, and something interesting too in the hints about our protagonist's solitary experiences of lesbian masochistic desire, but this thread was resolved in a way that felt to me disappointingly simplistic. The hints about our protagonist's adulthood following her experience of the cult are also flat, without the messiness of what it can mean to survive that experience. Worth reading as an example of a fictional depiction of organized abuse, but not a great one.

Mona Simpson, Commitment - family saga novel following three siblings as they make lives for themselves following their mother's depressive breakdown and institutionalization in the early 1970's. This had some flashes of clarity and insight, but fizzled out quickly into banality. There were some things that Simpson wanted to say about pragmatism vs making art, and about living in fear of mental illness, but it all got sanded down. The depiction of 'mental illness' is also two dimensional at best. This suffered especially for me in proximity to a recent read-through of The Frederica Quartet, which deals with some similar themes with an incomparably greater level of complexity and beauty. While this novel wasn't terrible, the fact of how lauded it has been made me feel cynical about the state of contemporary literary fiction.

Dion Fortune, Moon Magic - a hilarious but less than successful chapter in my weird journey of reading Fortune's fiction work. Like The Sea Priestess, to which it is a loose sequel, this novel centers around a blatant Dion Fortune self-insert initiating a repressed professional man into sexualized spiritual enlightenment. Unlike The Sea Priestess, Moon Magic is told largely from the point of view of said Dion Fortune self-insert, which brings the narcissism levels up to the nearly intolerable. Left unfinished at Fortune's death, the final chapter was written by her friends which was also not a great choice.

Melody Razak, Moth - a left-leaning, intellectual family in Delhi struggles to cope with the cataclysmic violence of partition. Stepping back from this book there are elements of it, and of the way each character was drawn, which I appreciate, but I felt consistently uneasy reading it, so much that I put it aside for a week in the middle, which is unusual for me. There was something about Razak's narrative gaze which felt exoticizing in its hazy simplicity; this maybe has to do with her conviction to "tell the untold stories" of women who experienced violence during partition, which I don't think is ever a great way to go into a fiction project for reasons I have written about elsewhere. However, the intensely brutal violence of the final section of the book somehow landed for me more as a reader; I don't actually know how I feel about the representational ethics of it, but something about the extremity brought it to a narratively more effective place. I'm still trying to sort through why.

Stacey D'Erasmo, The Complicities - after her husband's conviction for fraudulent business practices, a woman moves to a town in New England, opens a massage practice, and gets emotionally involved with a beached whale. Ugh. This was very bad, and I don't know how it ended up on my to-read list. Flat, simplistic prose style, irritating narrative voice, unlikable characters. Whatever.

Kikuo Tsumura, There's No Such Thing As an Easy Job (trans. Polly Barton) - genuinely hilarious satire on Japanese capitalist culture. A young woman, burnt out on her previous job (the nature of which isn't revealed until the end, which was an effective choice for me and so I'm not spoiling it), seeks to find a form of employment that will require the least possible from her intellectually and emotionally, ending up in increasing surreal work situations. This kind of book often doesn't work for me (I'm not a big humor person), but this was sharp and understated and very good. The section at the cracker factory in particular had me trying ineffectively to explain its hilarity to people around me. Recommended.

Catherine Lacey, Biography of X - in an AU United States where the southern states seceded in the mid-twentieth century, a newly widowed woman attempts to find out the truth about her wife, a notoriously secretive and manipulative artist. This was ambitious in its metafictional conceit and had a premise that intrigued but ultimately didn't live up to its promise. The world-building of Lacey's AU felt implausible and insufficiently developed; there were so many aspects of it that didn't land, like the distracting use of real-life figures or the total lack of critical analysis around race and gender. If the AU premise had been removed and the focus kept tighter on the central relationship it might have worked, but there too we just didn't have enough to go off of. This mostly just made me wish I was rereading Siri Hutvedt's The Blazing World, a much, much stronger metafictional depiction of a female artist, which maybe I should do.

Mariana Enríquez, Our Share of the Night - in Argentina during the period of military dictatorship, a young father attempts to save his son from the abusive group of which he has been a part since childhood. I loved this book so so very much. As a horror novel, as a depiction of organized abuse and intergenerational trauma, as a representation of the ways that state and interpersonal violence repeat and mirror. It's not a perfect book - I think that the last third could be tightened and shifted in certain ways - but what it's doing is so strong and specific that I don't mind. I sort of want to buy a copy and reread it right away. Strongly recommended, with the content note that it is a very emotionally plausible and unsparing depiction of its subject material.

#books #trauma frameworks

[supercap2319]

Not A Bloody Original

The Church of Blood was quiet. Too quiet if you ask Y/N. He expected a great quantity of cult worshippers chanting over the ominous bubbling pool of blood in the center of the room, arms raised and praising their lord and savior Brother Blood. Or as Y/N and other Titans called him: Sebastian Sanger. He was someone they tried to save, but he made his choice, and now Y/N would make his, no matter how much he didn't want to.

The man in the center of the room never took his eyes off the glowing red pool of magma. Either he wasn't aware of Y/N's presence, or he just didn't care. Perfect. "Phasmatos incen–"

"Now, that's not a friendly way of saying hello." Brother Blood turned to Y/N with a smile. "Ahh, Y/N, so nice of you to show up. I was afraid you'd miss out on all the fun."

"Give up, Sebastian. You can't win. It's over."

"Is it? I feel like it's just beginning." Brother Blood teased. "This is the final stretch like you Americans like to say."

Y/N huffed. "One more chance, Sebastian. Give up and surrender."

"Before you continue with your threats, I'd like for our friends to join us. Or should I say… friend?"

Y/N watched as someone else came into the room and before Y/N could send this new enemy back with magic, he realized the person was Dick in his Nightwing costume. "Dick? You're here." Instead of coming to his side, Y/N watched as Dick walked towards Brother Blood and kneeled before him.

Brother Blood smirks underneath his mask of bone. "I'd say I've caged this bird, wouldn't you agree, luv?" Dick had a far off look in his eyes and it didn't take a genius to see that Sebastian was using his powers to control him. Y/N took a step towards Sebastian. "If you don't, let go of him right now, Sebastian, I'm gonna…"

Brother Blood's whole body began to glow a violent red as he raised a hand, and Dick suddenly produced a knife and held it to his throat. "Uh-uh-uh. I wouldn't do that if I were you. Unless you want your precious Nightwing to slit his own throat?" Y/N backed off and leered at Rachel's half-brother.

"Good boy." Dick stopped, but he still held the knife close to his throat. Brother Blood looked pretty confident and cocky at that fact he had Y/N backed into a corner. If he tried to attack him, Sebastian would have Dick slit his own throat, and a part of him wonders if he could teleport the knife away before Nightwing slashed his own windpipe. "I wouldn't try anything funny, Y/N." Brother Blood warned, almost as if he was reading his thoughts. He probably was.

"Why are you doing this, Sebastian?"

"What? You mean getting power, respect, and everything that I ever wanted? Everything I so rightfully deserve. And I've never been fond of the name 'Sebastian.' I prefer something bold, like Klaus."

"Klaus? Who the hell are you, Joseph Morgan?" Y/N asked.

"I think I'm beyond fictional vampires, but I have something to offer you. A deal if you will." Suddenly, all around Y/N, the Church of Blood worshippers came into the room in robes. They chanted low underneath their breath as Y/N had to fight the urge to set them all on fire. "What kind of deal?"

"I'll let your precious Dick go and promise not to harm him in any way. If…" Brother Blood began.

"If what?"

"...If you let me fuck you on my throne in front of my Church of Blood." Brother Blood smirked underneath his bone mask.

Y/N looks completely taken aback. "What the fuck? No way. Why would you want that?"

"I've got almost everything that I want. Sexual gratification is the only thing that's alluded to in my grasp. And If I'm being honest, it's the perfect way to solidify my place as leader amongst these worshippers. Seeing their leader take one of the most powerful magical users and fucking his brains out." He smiled.

"Fuck you, Sebastian!" Y/N said.

"Fine, have it your way, Luv." Brother Blood's body glowed once again as Dick started to dig the knife into his throat as he groaned in pain.

"Okay. Okay! Stop! I'll do whatever you want, I swear. Just don't… just don't hurt him."

Brother Blood stops his magic and nods as he walks towards his throne and sits down as he spreads his legs wide and smiles. The pool's reflection made him look ominous and eerie as the whole church waited to see what the hero would do. Would he swallow his pride and ego and degrade himself for their leader, or let his boyfriend die?

Y/N flushed and looked at Sebastian with such hate as he began to strip his clothes off until he was buck naked for all the Church of Blood and Brother Blood.

"Good boy. Now, come here and bend over my lap." Sebastian ordered.

#titans 2018 #titans season 4 #joseph morgan #Joseph Morgan x male reader #sebastian sanger #Sebastian Sanger x male reader #Brother Blood #Brother Blood x male reader #dick grayson #richard grayson #nightwing #brenton thwaites #Dick Grayson x male reader #Brenton Thwaites x male reader #Nightwing x male reader

[hunnybunnyburrows]

Seeing everyone talk about their lamb oc got me wanting to do the same

Say hello to Vera! Leader and keeper of the small cult village of Ovine!

(reference drawn by the beautiful and amazing @dragonsaltartales )

More about her under the break!

Vera went through a lot in her first 20 years of life before finally being found and put to the blade that placed the story into motion.

At first she was willing to do anything for The One Who Waits, especially if it meant she'd be able to avenge her fallen brethren, her mother, and her own life that the bishops found worth slaying mercilessly. However, when she met who would become her first follow, rescued from the hands of Leshy's zealot followers eager to sacrifice them, a great deal of her anger and hatred left her. All she saw was herself, her mother, her kind, in the sad cowering rabbit before her. From that point on she does all she can to be as kind and compassionate of a leader as she could be.

She's beloved by her following for her gentle hand, sweet voice, and merciful spirit. She isn't stupid or blind though, and punishes trouble makers as the should be. If she can bring peace within her own flock without bloodshed she will do it. (She's only ever been driven to kill a follower in broad day light once. An act she has zero regret over)

Despite how beloved she is none of her following know her name, save for a very select few. (Narinder, a very specific spouse, and her disciples). She is commonly addressed as "My Lady", "Beloved Lamb", or "Her/My Grace". No one knows why she keeps her name to herself.

Living on the lamb (heh) with her mother the first two decades of her life meant she knew a great deal about gathering herbs, crops, making necessities with her own hands, and crafting medicine. Even after achieving godhood, she still does many things by hand.

While crusading Vera enjoys using Daggers and swords, with the heaviest weapons she'd use being the axe or gauntlets. It was her speed and dexterity that kept her alive for so long before being caught, and it's what she still uses to her advantage. She also adores the wide variety of spells she know has on hand.

She always wears a bell on her person in some shape or form, but she most commonly uses the bell and it's ribbon as a hair tie, keeping her long locks neat and out of the way. It's her most prized possession, as it once belonged to her mother. When she was caught she had lost it, but after being brought back by The One Who Waits, he returned it to her as a gift of good faith. She fell head over heels then and there.

And there she is!!! My girl!!!! I love her so much!!!!

Hope you enjoyed show and tell!! Will I do more with her? Maybe...I want to but it honestly took a lot of gathering up nerve to share this ksdfbvjnfd I want to though!!! So bad!!! So maybe!!!

Thank you all for reading!!! Have a good one!!

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl lamb #cotl oc #I really hope you guys like her!! #This was honestly a lot of fun to do #Maybe I will try doing more with my CoTL brain rot

[trans-bread-of-life]

Yesterday morning, I had a dream where I was on an elevator with a few people from a “discipleship school” (borderline cult) that I went to back in my Evangelical days. One of the ministry leaders got onto the elevator, said hi by name to every person but me, and only when I said hi to her again did she say hi, still refusing to use my name.

The dream was probably a realistic picture of what would happen if I ran into this particular woman someday, but I’m also wondering if it doesn’t have something to say more broadly about the experience of being a trans man.

As a cis-passing trans guy, I don’t really have a lot of places to belong in the queer community. I’m not a gay man, and gay male spaces are generally a minefield of dysphoria & avoiding chasers anyway. I relate to the sapphics, but as a man, I never really fit in their spaces (even when they try to be more inclusive). Trans-femmes have their own right-knot communities, but I really just have a few isolated trans-masc friends I go to for advice. I could probably fit in with cishet people, but I would have to hide the fact that I’m trans.

And when it comes to dating (mostly women & feminine people, as I’m kind of 90-10 bi favoring women), I keep shooting my shot and being turned down over and over again.

I don’t think I’m the only person experiencing this. In fact, I think it’s a systemic challenge that trans men face. As we are transitioning and reaching the times when we most need strong community support, we’re suddenly forced into the isolation of North American manhood. The message that we hear (usually implied, but occasionally out loud) is, “you wanted to be a man, so welcome to the worst part.”

But of course trans men are even more isolated than cis men, because all of these wild things are happening to our bodies with no one there to teach us to shave or show us how to navigate these new gender roles or help us figure out what the fuck to do with all of this ass hair.

I’m lucky to be involved in very queer church circles, where there is a critical mass to form a robust queer friend group, but not a big enough group to break off into specific identities. But that’s the only place where I’ve found myself belonging to a group and forming deep friendships.

I want there to be parties and queer community events/spaces where my presence is actively wanted & encouraged. I want to have memories that counter the many experiences I have (and the many more that I will have) of romantic rejection. I want to feel like I’m enough, and I want to feel like I belong.

I don’t know what the solution is (besides more spaces open to all LGBTQ+ people and maybe me figuring out to be hotter or something?) but I have to keep hoping it will get better.

In the meantime, hug a trans guy (with his consent) the next time you see one.

#transmasc #trans man #trans #transgender #trans grief #anti transmasculinity #queer christian #transandrophobia

[livannasalinger]

Dc x Dp prompt 3

I was thinking lately that most of the prompts and fics that I see, they range from: focus on Danny, focus on Jazz, oneshots here and there with some different characters, maybe sam and tucker, but not much more than that. Of course, ultimately, the idea of Dc x Dp goes through the importance that Danny has to establish this connection (ghost king, meta laws, being a hero, classic black hair and blue eyes of the Waynes, etc etc) and focus more on relationships with DC characters (batfam, superman, Wonder Woman, etc) . At the same time, I've recently been thinking about how there are few fics that portray the rest of the Casper High as a functional group (not counting Everlasting trio). And then, there's this fic that I really like (see prompt 2) that talks about a different way that the incident with Spectra could have happened. With all this, I thought:

- what if, these incidents with the ghosts made the group more cohesive: I'm not talking about everyone being super friends, although that can be cool, but I'm talking about actually seeing them build a dynamic because they need to protect themselves from danger and they can't get help from anyone else -  Justice League doesn't interfere/doesn't know/doesn't believe

- Anyway, X years pass, the events of DP (except Danny's revelation to the world) occur, but unlike canon, the children mature faster, and start to blossom like powerhouses - imagine Assassination classroom and how they became after graduation, that kind of thing.

- But that's when things start to get interesting, because "out of nowhere" a group of people with impressive skills and suspicious training in different areas begins to appear, young people trained in things they shouldn't. At first, the connection was not clear, as everyone is in different areas, but little by little a pattern starts to become clearer: maybe their presence, maybe some more ghostly physical characteristic.

I see two ways this starts to get noticed:

-- At a Justice League meeting, several superheroes start listing people of interest and justifying why. They might have noticed these people as possible future villains, or maybe they want to recruit them, or something like that. The point is: when one person starts talking, another hero starts remembering that he knows a similar person, a pattern starts to be observed, an investigation starts to be made.

OR

-- An investigation is already under way, as there is a group of people who came from the same place, started to become influential in the field of choice, and nobody can prove, but many suspect that this group is responsible for the disappearance of a mysterious government organization called GIW

In any case, an investigation begins showing  the different ways that the Amity Park group has grown to be BAMF including: Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Jazz Fenton, Valerie Gray, Dash Baxter, Paulina, Kwan, Star, Wes weston.… maybe even Ellie and Dan.

The investigation proceeds, old photos of the group can be found and they notice the disappearance of only one person: Danny Fenton. Which makes no sense, as he is seen multiple times with all the suspects, but effectively there is no record of him anywhere: no college, no job, not even how he gets from one place to another, no plane ticket, nothing.

It would still be really cool if everyone in the group followed certain customs, derived from the lessons they received on how to deal with ghosts or because they are Liminal and that's why they behave a little differently and, even if they've been living with "normal people" for years , sometimes they just forget common sense and scare people without intending to.

The conclusions that the JL, villains  and other groups, can come to are potentially hilarious: are they villains? what are their goals? Are they a secret cult with this Danny as their leader? Are they or are they not doing something illegal? Are they a threat? And if so, a threat to whom?

At the end of it all I can see Mr Lance showing up and thinking "how come this is supposedly the most powerful group of people in the world?!" and in 5 minutes solving any chaos or misunderstanding like:

"Pride and Prejudice, not even Mr. Weston was that bad" (looking at Red Robin's conspiracy board)

#dc x dp prompt #dc x dp #Bamf everyone #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #Jazz is Bamf too #casper high as a group #casper high as a family? #if you mess with one from Amity Park you mess with them all #feral everyone #everyone is liminal