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marimoscorner · 8 days

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Consumerism & Witchcraft

Written by Marimo (he/they)🌿

I’ve seen a turn for the better in some witchy spaces regarding consumerism in the past few years, but overall it still tends to be an issue for us as a community. I’ve decided to try and breakdown the pitfalls I’ve noticed in my own journey, in the hopes that it will inspire and assist others. I’ve also provided alternatives and ideas on how to make small changes in our practice to help us better protect the Earth, stick it to the failing system and still acquire our bits and bobs we love so dearly.

As always, I am no authority on any subject nor am I perfect—but we’re all learning as we go, so let’s dive right in 🌿

A Preface

There are some things that should be made entirely clear before we begin:

You are not a bad person for wanting an aesthetic

You are not a bad person for unknowingly falling into pitfalls. Only if you continue to purposefully do so after knowing better

You are not a bad person for consuming content/objects or for not always making the most sustainable decisions. At the end of the day, we can only control our small part of environmental impact, while the rest is left up to the major corporations that make more pollution than any of us ever will

You are only human. Show yourself some grace and understanding that the internet so lacks.

My Experience in Consumerist Hell

I have fallen victim many times to consumerism in witchcraft. Starting my journey at the ripe age of about ten years old and heavily in the broom closet, I was quickly drawn in by the shiny rocks, the brand new candles and scents, the promise of new tarot decks and pendulums and other fancy, shiny new equipment. I was consuming an online aesthetic along with my ideals, and it distracted me from starting my journey by learning well.

I began to spend my birthday and holiday money on the aesthetic of things. While, granted, I still did buy a few literary resources now and again from my local secondhand bookstore—I was stubbornly ignoring the sage advice to learn and understand first before diving in headfirst.

I purchased statues, crystals, too many tarot decks to use. I purchased osteomancy bones I later returned to the earth, for I had not done enough research to know that that animal was mine to practice with. I had a tankard full of incense sticks, and even a growing pile of books that would not be read. While I liked to consider myself crafty with my homemade Maypole and various hand-bound Grimoires, something was becoming apparent: this was all a distraction.

The aesthetic I was partaking in was providing me with a false sense of progress and practicality.

When I’d go to do a tarot reading, I’d become far too overwhelmed with choosing a deck to read in the first place. When making an offering to a deity, I’d feel pressured to also bolster the altars of all the other deities I’d set up, and with my wide pool, the connections felt muddy. Often times I’d be off-put on a project or spell because I knew I needed to film it and it needed to look nice.

In the long term, I don’t have many of these items today. I’ve sold and donated a vast breadth of them. Feeling overwhelmed costed me a few years retreat from my craft to recuperate. However, what has stuck with me is the knowledge I picked up along the way.

So, What’s the Issue? TL;DR

I’ve noticed a few issues here in making these mistakes myself.

Consumerism absolutely distracts you from learning and your craft

Overconsumption leads to environmental damage. If everyone hoarded supplies, there would not be enough to go around. And with what gets thrown away every year…it paints an ugly wound on the Earth

We damage our learning abilities by not allowing ourselves to be anything less than perfect

The need for aesthetic creates barriers to entry within the community and creates a divide of haves and have-nots

You won’t be able to truly follow your individual path if you are only consuming and not creating for yourself

Consumerist culture promotes appropriation. Metaphysical stores carry items from closed practices (such as white sage and palo santo, or coyote bones) because someone is buying them. Don’t be that person, and find alternatives relating to your own culture instead

Consumerism can influence your spiritual decisions based upon monetary inclinations (where some may sacrifice a quality ingredient over a higher quantity of a lower quality ingredient)

So, what can we do?

Firstly, I want to clarify that I am not against collecting, nor am I against maximalism or the beautiful visual aesthetic we carry as a community.

I am an artist a very visual person and understand the longing for a beautiful home and workspace. However, this aesthetic shouldn’t come at the cost of irresponsibly harming the Earth or another community.

Thus, I’ve compiled a list of small things that I will be incorporating into my practice to make it more mindful and sustainable. I hope that you’ll join me in a few of them.

Minimize Supplies. While I used to have a huge selection of stationary for my Grimoire, I now limit myself to a simple pencil and watercolor set if I’m feeling artistic. This helps me actually use my Grimoire for study, rather than to keep perfect. It’s also friendlier on my wallet!

Thrift Supplies. There are plenty of perfectly good items that get donated daily. You can get high-quality candles and holders, old crystal bowls for altar offerings, spare crafting supplies, fabric for alter cloths and even clothing if you so wish—all for a fraction of the cost new and while saving the planet just a little bit more. Hell, you can sometimes even find good silver!

Share Supplies with your Community. You can create a sort of barter system with other witches in your area. Perhaps you create a sigil for them, and they provide you with a candle spell. Play to your strengths and grow together!

Look for Creative Outlets. Do you really need to go buy an altar statue that’s been mass-produced? Or can you give your deity the personal gift of a drawing, painting or even hand-modeled or hand-carved rendition? This will also deepen your connection to your craft and your magic, and make it more meaningful and stronger. If you really like something, though, go for it!

If you aren’t the artistic sort, consider supporting an artist before going to a large company. While I haven’t purchased from them myself, Blagowood on Etsy has beautiful deity statues carved from wood by their small team in Ukraine for a comparable cost to the standard mass produced metal statues. I consider this extra labor of love going into these pieces and those of similar small companies to be much better energy for my practice. I myself may put out some art prints and other handmade supplies in the future, but I will likely spread them around my community first.

Try Secondhand Books. While not available in every area and further still not as available for witchcraft and occult books, you may strike luck! Not only are secondhand books less expensive, but you’ll be supporting a local business. That’s not to say you can’t buy firsthand books, but some searching around may be beneficial to the earth and to your wallet in the long run.

Be mindful of where you source supplies and decor. If you are a fan of taxidermy decor, make sure that you source cruelty free. Bats can practically never be sourced without cruelty, so if a shop carries them, I’d be mindful of their other specimens. The same goes for if a shop decides to forgo a culture’s wishes and carry supplies sacred to them, such as white sage or dreamcatchers. Supporting folks who turn a profit off of others’ suffering is not something many would wish to include energetically in their craft.

Search the Wild for Tools. Find sticks, flowers and other plants out in the forest. Learn how to rockhound in your area for crystals. Your craft will be more powerful the more connected it is to the land you are surrounded by. Be sure to reference guides for safety and legality!

Get Creative with Purposes. If you are having difficulty finding exactly what you need by thrifting or searching, make another tool multipurpose if it would do the job good enough. Find supplies that are easy to source and work as substitutes for other ingredients (ex. Quartz as a stand in for other stones)

Spend more time Doing. Go out into the woods (safely) and advance your connection to the earth instead of worrying over the perfect item for your collection. Your craft will benefit

At the end of the day, all of this is your decision. Take what you like, and leave what you don’t. Even if we don’t agree, I thank you for your time and open mind. I will continue updating about how I incorporate these steps, and I will also hopefully post more on witchy crafting in the future.

I wish you well, and hope you’ll decide to follow along on our journey!

#pagan #pagan witch #paganism #witchblr #witchcraft #marimo writes🌿

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mollyjames · 6 months

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Fascists love art. And that's something that might make you uncomfortable because it's something you probably have in common with fascists, but it's true. Fascists love art the same way they love sports. It is a quantifiable measure of betterment and superiority. They will talk quite knowledgeably about their favorite art; the history, the techniques, the themes... If they're particularly well educated, they might talk about the artist's personal life, and all the ways they exemplify the human experience. It is inspiring to them, much in the same way it might be inspiring to you. For them, art is a world with clear winners and losers. In a word, Objective.

It's also part of why I find the AI art movement fascinating. It operates on much the same parameters as the fascist and caters to their sensibilities, deliberately or not. AI art strives to create a visually pleasing objectively accurate depiction of its subject matter, with as many of the flaws removed as possible. Form and function in one. This is appealing to the fascist (who also loves computers) as it comes with the veneer of Objectivism. This machine has not only demonstrated the correct way to create art, but the art it creates looks a lot like the art they already consider to be objectively superior! How validating. (It does not necessarily occur to them that one hand washes the other.)

Of course in practice, what they are applauding is a laundering machine. And while it benefits the makers of these technologies to tout their potential, that we're only just scratching the surface of what AI is really capable of, it seems we've already hit the limit. After all, we chose the winners in Paris in 1748. If we need to, we can always choose new winners and call it progress. But it's all people.

It's only ever been people.

(I know I will likely get comments along the lines of "fascists don't REALLY love art, all they're really doing is-" etc, etc... And that's understandable and I think you could argue it. However I'm hesitant to say there is a wrong way to look at art. Rather I'd like you to consider that love of something, while wonderful, does not and never will justify evil.)

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autogyne-redacted · 5 months

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Ok, so let's talk about "misandry."

(Heads up that I use terrible US foreign policy as an example of underlying gender ideology, Death to America of course)

1) if we're working within a social justice, privilege-oppression type framework, there is no systemic oppression of men as men, or trans men as trans men (beyond transphobia). Within these privilege oppression frameworks treating misandry or transandrophobia as a real thing is gonna have disastrous consequences.

2) But we need to be abandoning the identity politics social justice orthodoxy as fast as we can. Occupying a position of privilege within the discourse is dehumanizing and hellish, it has a terrible track record with transmisogyny (not a coincidence), and trying to map gendered power just by looking at identity groups means you miss a ton of what's happening within the groups, and in less straight forward ways.

3) a huge part of the gender binary is between camab ppl as (instrumental) subjects and cafab ppl as (responsive, feeling) objects. And this is fucked all around.

To pick one of the more egregious examples, US military directives make heavy use of the category of "military aged males." People outside this category are (theoretically) assumed to be non combatants while "military aged males" in ~warzones~ are basically valid targets by default. https://tinyurl.com/4skt53tx

This category also faces extra exclusion from refugee and asylum status: https://tinyurl.com/4txsmepy

We could explain this as a symptom of misogyny. That women should also be recognized as being capable of enacting violence and treated equally. This is the most straight forward application of orthodox gender theory and likely the worst.

Or we could say that there's something about the intersection of being Arab/Muslim/young/read as male that leads to a unique oppression.

But it's not like it's just this intersection. If we look at prison populations, or who gets hit by police violence, or weaponized accusations of Sexual Assault the logic is actually fairly consistent here, if a little messy to talk about.

Ppl seen as men are seen as capable of wielding power and this leads to benefits if they're seen as basically good. If they're seen as crazy, dangerous, evil, hostile, or at risk of being any of these, being seen as capable of violence makes shit way worse. Lots of intersections push you further towards being viewed as a threat.

(A pretty good bite sized model of transmisogyny is that it misgenders us as men + we get negative respect since we rejected masculinity + it frames us as crazy/dangerous).

Ppl seen as women are going to be seen as less competent, in need of guidance, control and protection by default. But it comes with certain (conditional) protections. Violence against women certainly happens, but the fact that it's a special protected category says a lot. (There's a lot to say about how much these protections are worth, who they really apply to and when they disappear and what happens then, but it's very clear that they exist and that they mean something).

4) so am I arguing for the existence of misandry? Absolutely not*. Gender is just a fucked up system of division and control all around. Privilege frameworks suggest that women are going to experience the same shit as men they share identities with + misogyny + possible extra intersectional oppression. And while this approach is sometimes helpful, I think a better default framework is that gender is just a way to create more social categories for a more complicated system of control with common threads like the subject-object binary that can play to different ways in different contexts.

The whole thing needs to be dismantled and we need to see ppl across gender categories as whole human beings with a meaningful interiority, the capacity for violence, etc. And if we recognize that gender is a complicated system of control, it follows naturally that our gender discourse shouldn't all ask men to sit down / shut up / listen.

5) the issue with transandrophobia BS is that it really wants to exceptionalize the trans masc experience. "It's fucked up that I'm being seen as suspect and capable of violence like terrible cis men, I'm obviously one of the good ones." And as they fight for the best of both worlds ("I should be respected like a man but still seen as incapable of chauvinism") it pushed naturally for trans fems to get the worst of both worlds.

6) returning to feminist "man-hating" there's a lot i oppose for being essentialist or doubling down on subject-object binary. Beyond that, a lot of it is just mean. And like, ppl can be jaded and mean sometimes. But a lot of social justice feminist dogma was ppl developing a bristly defensiveness from constant harassment and trolling. Ppl defending this as an understandable response, and then that shifting into codifying and valorizing it. And I just think it's a miserable way to live and it's miserable to be on the receiving end of it.

I think some grace and understanding for ppl being jaded and bristly is rly helpful but I'm done with valorizing it.

7) all of this said, basic feminist takes about men having lots of pressure and motivations to be chauvinist still apply. And they certainly apply to trans men. But there's a difference between having social expectations that you be a chauvinist and bowing to that pressure. And lots of men are chill and nice! Yes even cishet men!

It's easy to want to draw a hard line where you're "one of the good ones" and are categorically separated from the possibility of being sexist (ontologically incapable of violence, even?) and that goes really poorly.

(most of my beef with transandrophobia is that it's doing this + exceptionalizing trans masc experience in a way that fucks over trans fems).

But I'm not gonna ask ppl to constantly self flagellate or be hyper vigilant to make sure they don't slip up. Sin frameworks are miserable and it's not like being interpersonally shitty in a way that lines up with oppressive systems actually has consequences that much worse than just being an asshole.

So much of the more aggressive side of social justice just feels like ways to treat enemies, not your friends or ppl you want to be in community with.

I'm glad we've been moving on from it.

*editing a footnote since this has already come up a couples times / this post seems to be leaving my immediate circles: by saying misandry isn't real I mean: there isn't a systemic oppression of men as men that parallels misogyny. Gendered oppression isn't a "both sides" situation. When "egalitarian" or mra types brought "misandry" into the discourse this is what they were pushing for.

While I object to the idea that all men evenly oppress all women, patriarchy absolutely has men at the top. It's a complex and multi-directional system of power but there is an overall gendered slant to it. My framework here is still a feminist framework.

#writing #long post #not coming out of the closet #coates #transmisogny #gender theory #misandry #transandrophobia #i use men some places and ppl seen as men others none of it is super straight forward gender as it applies to trans ppl is complicated sry

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dukeofankh · 6 months

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There's gotta be a word for whatever the opposite of objectification is. Like, the obvious option is "Subjectification", but that's apparently the point in development where you realise you have a distinct individual personhood or something like that.

I just feel like there's this constant current within my experience of masculinity where my desires and actions are treated as much more significant and/or dangerous than they actually are. More than that, that in all aspects of my relationship to my community, the only acceptable or even coherent way to describe that relationship is in terms of my effect on others, and never the other way around. And that trickles down into so many weird little pockets of conflict.

One example of that has been biphobia, even from partners who are bi women, or jealousy, even from non-monogamous partners with a lot of dates, because a dude desiring or having sex with someone apparently just feels...more...notable/worth worrying about than a woman doing the exact same thing. Another one has been dealing with mental health struggles, in which female partners' depression is something to be lived with and nursed, while my own is this anxiety-inducing thing that I'm on some level doing *to* them.

It's kind of the converse of the shitty adage, "if he wanted to, he would." That concept being blown out to "if he wants to, he will," and even "This is a walking Agency Machine who happens To You. All actions are premeditated. All effects both material and emotional are intentional."

Like, it's one of the shitty byproducts of our inability to discuss the objectification of women outside of the sexual. Our society splits humans into subjects and objects. Speakers and Topics. Intentional, driven agents and passive, helpless commodities. And it's not that we should all be Subjects at all times or something, or that I want into the passive Object club, it's that we are all both subjects and objects.

We gendered that and split it in half. We associated being a subject with masculinity and being an object with femininity. And it's a pretty massive struggle for people to unlearn that on a foundational level even if they understand intellectually that that's bullshit.

Like, I have thought this way before, aimed this "Subjectification" style of thinking at others. But it was when I was a literal child and I thought this way about my literal parents. It's exhausting to face that framing in egalitarian relationships with fully grown women my own age.

#me writing stuff #positive masculinity

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eve-was-framed · 9 months

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okay this is gonna be a bit of a long rant (with some SA and CSA mentions so pls don’t read if that will be too much for you rn) but I’ve been thinking a lot about the “male loneliness epidemic” lately and I have some Thoughts ™

we live in very isolating, depressing and scary times. we live in a hyper-individualistic capitalist hellscape that seems to punish people who need community support. and I truly believe that we as humans should try to help each other out in the ways that we are able to.

but I lose 100% of my empathy for lonely depressed men when they start using their own personal issues as an excuse to peddle ideologies that advocate for rape, pedophilia, child marriage, sexual slavery, and even murder of women and girls. I don’t fucking care how sad you are, if you advocate for other humans beings to be subjected to the cruelest treatment possible then you either need to get serious help or die (and not take anyone with you when you do).

you do not have a fucking paramount on suffering. you are not the only ones who experience loneliness. I know you think women get to just pick and choose whichever romantic partner/friends we want, but that is false, and also being seen as nothing but a sex object by men is so incredibly isolating too. that’s not real love and connection, that’s only being valued for what we can provide for men. so many people feel so alone and it genuinely is a big problem.

I was raised in an extremely misogynistic cult that preaches that grown men are not responsible for anything they do to little girls bc “they’re wired that way.” I had very bad things happen to me before I was even old enough to realize what it meant. and you know what the excuse always is? “well it happened to him when he was younger too so he can’t help that he does it to you.” I learned very early that male suffering is viewed as more important than the suffering they inflict on innocent people. and despite going through this, despite seeing nearly every woman in my life go through something similar, despite all of this, I still would never ever sympathize with any ideology that preaches rape, slavery, sex trafficking, pedophilia, white supremacy, etc. and that doesn’t make me some super hero, it makes me a mildly normal person.

so no, nobody “pushed” you into your evil ideologies, nobody made you do that. if true suffering at the hands of the opposite sex is really the root cause of inceldom then almost every single woman I know would be the most insane incel you’d ever meet in your entire life. but they’re not, even though many of them are lonely and long for true companionship, none of them feel so angry and entitled to it that they want to murder and rape men or little boys. not a single one. the root cause of inceldom is, and always has been, male entitlement. men who were raised to believe the world and every woman in it exists to serve them in some way, but then grew up and realized that actually nobody is owed sex and you don’t get to force women to marry you and have kids, because we are human beings who deserve to be happy too. and this makes them so mad that they start thinking it’s okay to do whatever they want to whoever they want, because after all, nobody on planet earth could ever suffer as much as incels do when a woman tells them no.

I’m fucking sick of it. stop saying “they pushed me to this” and start taking even an ounce of accountability for your deranged, entitled mindset.

#radblr #radical feminism #radical feminists please touch #radical feminist community #I cooked here tbh #male entitlement #male violence #tw csa mention

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bunny-yan · 1 year

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Cyborg!Yandere x GN!Reader

Thank you @slutforconan for responding to my sleeping post!

TW: language, violence, discrimination, implies drunk intimate relations, sin menores

—

You weren’t prejudiced.

Seriously, you weren’t. You’d had a number of experiences in life to teach you just how little differences there were between you and people who looked differently than you did. There were more cases of people who looked exactly like you and your lives were nothing alike.

At the end of the day you understood that others had their own set of struggles to deal with and so you tried to keep an open mind. Especially when everything in you wanted to deny it.

Sure, you hated kids but you had gained the right to look down on them after passing that insufferable age. Disliking the generation that came after you was a rite of passage that everyone would experience as far as you were concerned. And for all their wisdom was worth, older people could really grate on your nerves. You believed you should respect your elders, but when they used your inexperience of years on Earth to preach about how you were everything wrong with the world, you remained respectful by letting their “wisdom” go in one ear before traveling out of the other.

We get it. You’ve been here a long time.

So you were at odds with others. It was only natural considering how many varying opinions there were in the world. It didn’t mean you were prejudiced. If everyone got along, world peace would’ve long since been achieved and it hasn’t.

Especially after the Cyborg Program had been approved.

Imagine a world where machine and man became one.

It was as if bioengineers had reached into heaven to act as the goddess as more and more people became something akin to superhumans.

Super strength, speed, power, intelligence, all achievable if you decided to enter the government’s special program. They’d replace your organs with technology, injecting nanobots into your bloodstream to slowly acclimate your system so it could handle the rapid upgrades it was receiving. They made it possible to leap over buildings, lift objects that weighed tons, run long distances in the blink of an eye, and calculate complex equations as fast as a computer could.

It was the evolution of human beings. The beginning of a new era.

A violent one.

More people were against the new age of man than you expected. Protests outside of organizations that modified the human body or produced the technology used for it happened almost everyday.

While some believed it to be a mockery against the goddess, others didn’t like the idea of androids “stealing” jobs meant for “humans.” An cyborg with super strength could replace twenty workers and that meant twenty workers would have to look for work elsewhere. Though one needed a permit that was difficult to acquire and special permission from the government to hire an android, it was a prominent fear nonetheless.

Things got heated to the point where you couldn’t walk outside with modifications on your body without being assaulted in some way.

A nasty barrage of insults hurled from across the street, mixing in words like “robot” were common. It was considered a slur against androids as it implied they weren’t human, but to the unmodified they weren’t.

Many debated what made a human being, be it a beating heart, the ability to feel and express emotion, or a soul, but an answer was never found and the flames were only fanned when cyborgs decided to retaliate after being subjected to unfair treatment.

They were labeled violent, monsters that had an insatiable desire to kill the moment they got the chance. Despite the fact that human on human crime had a much higher rate than android on human violence could ever have, they passed the undefinable line as other.

Tensions were high, but the dam was broken when a group of humans attacked an android that tried their best not to fight back for fear of hurting them, but the surge of malice exploded after the android’s arm was torn off and plastered to a modification center’s walls.

Riots erupted across cities, cars and buildings became collateral in the battle of human versus android, a battle that wouldn’t have lasted long if the androids truly intended to kill the humans that persecuted them, but it didn’t last.

The government deployed troops to stop the riots, declaring martial law and forcing citizens to stay in their homes until they could figure out a way to contain the escalating situation.

Their solution, placing cyborgs as helpers in neighborhoods and intensifying the punishment for violence used against cyborgs. The goal was to create a delicate peace as people were consistently exposed to androids in a positive manner, really selling that “Cyborgs are human too!” mindset.

As dumb as it initially sounded, you couldn’t deny that it definitely worked. You could go outside without fear that you’d stumble upon an ongoing battle on your way to work. It was common sense to avoid the sounds of gun shots and screaming, but you’d had the misfortune of parking near conflicts once or twice.

Now you could travel to your car in peace. It wasn’t uncomfortable being outside, but it did make you nervous when he would visit to see if you needed help with anything.

He’d been introduced to the tenants on your floor as the cyborg that was apart of the integration program.

You didn’t see how anyone could be at ease with that intense scowl he always wore. You saw it so often that you figured he’d greeted the doctor with that exact face at his birth. He was dark, broody, and you couldn’t help but admit handsome. It made you wonder if some of the androids had decided to get plastic surgery along with the other body modifications because it felt like a sin for someone to be as hot as he was.

He was eye candy that you couldn’t help but stare at, but it made you nervous to do so when it was just the two of you alone together in your small apartment.

Though you insisted that you didn’t really need anything, he went around fixing things as he pleased like a handyman. The squeaky door, the cracked tiles in the bathroom and kitchen, dusty furniture, dingy carpet, leaking roof, flickering lights. Your apartment sounded like something straight out of a horror movie, but you’d been busy with work and the landlord had been promising to see about your issues for the last couple of months so you wouldn’t be accepting any criticism.

You’d thank him and he’d respond with a small nod. When making dinner, you’d ask if he wanted anything and he’d always respond that he was fine.

After the first couple of weeks, you forced him to sit at the table with you. Not only did you feel extremely rude to eat while he stood like a weird loner in the corner of your apartment, it was awkward and you refused to leave things the way they were if this was going to be an ongoing relationship.

It didn’t take much prodding. For all of his ominous brooding, he was a pretty agreeable guy. You’d begin to get excited whenever he’d come to visit you. His time would be spent watching a movie with you instead of cleaning or talking together as you taught him to cook some simple dishes. Apparently cyborgs didn’t need to eat often, but it was still an enjoyable experience if they kept their taste receptors, which he did. You found out in one of your conversations that he was a pretty avid drinker and after a night of questionable decisions and more drinks than you could remember, you woke up with him in your bed.

Naked.

Initially you freaked out, feeling that this was going to ruin the relationship that you’d built by making it awkward whenever he came by, but if you were telling the truth, you remembered everything that happened. You’d come onto him and he allowed it to happen.

It was truly an unforgettable experience.

You couldn’t really think of a downside to allowing this to happen if you were both up for it. He was handsome, a great conversationalist when he wasn’t brooding, and you’d learned he was breathtaking in bed.

Literally.

He was your breathtakingly brooding cyborg boyfriend. Or, boyfriend rather since being an cyborg was a secondary characteristic of his identity that had no real impact on your relationship other than the whispers and side eyes the two of you would receive if you ever went out together on dates.

Which, unfortunately, didn’t happen often.

You asked him why he didn’t take you out more and he claimed it was because he could tell that you were uncomfortable with receiving so much negative attention. He didn’t want to be a stressor in your relationship and claimed he’d much prefer hanging out at your apartment.

It was sweet. You couldn’t deny that he was being very thoughtful, but that excuse got old after a while. You tried to explain to him that you’d have to get used to it eventually. Unless the two of your broke up and you decided to date a regular guy, not that he wasn’t a regular guy just a modified guy and nothing was wrong with that, the attention you received wouldn’t change.

His eyes got dark at the mention of you dating someone else, brooding as he seemed to think over your words. You thought that it was cute, but you were even happier because it seemed as if you got through to him.

You were wrong.

The insufferable bastard would follow you to your car, making you sit in the passenger seat as he drove you to work. Sweet, sure, until he’d only allow you to travel by car when he accompanied you. Not only did he not bother taking you out on dates, he also refused to let you accompany him to do simple things like shopping at the grocery store. He even confiscated your keys to make sure you couldn’t go anywhere on your own. If you wanted to be obstinate you could walk, but you weren’t stupid. You were aware of the possible dangers you faced in your neighborhood considering it wasn’t the safest place.

You were beginning to get angry. To tell the truth, you were past the point of anger. You were seething with rage, but your lid only burst after he attempted to change the locks on your apartment door so you couldn’t go anywhere while he was assisting the other tenants.

The two of you got into an argument that shook the thin walls.

He claimed he was only trying to protect you and you yelled that he was going overboard. He’d crossed serious lines and you felt he was suffocating you in your own apartment.

You tried to get him to see your side, but he was steadfast in his belief that he had done nothing wrong. You couldn’t remain calm. You were a ball of pure rage after he called you inconsiderate. All you saw was red as you yelled at him to get out. You told him that you didn’t want to see his face, that everything between the two of you was over.

He’d stood there for a moment, shocked at your words, but he left nonetheless.

You slammed the door behind him, locking it and shaking as you told yourself not to cry. It didn’t matter that you had ended your relationship. It wasn’t good for you.

He was pig headed and controlling and you didn’t care that you would no longer be able to cuddle up to him during a bad movie that the two of you would make fun of. He wouldn’t hold you and softly proclaim his love or say sappy things that you didn’t imagine he was capable of. You’d no longer get to ask him about what it was like to be a modified human being and he would no longer tell you he was happy that he kept his touch sensors because he liked your warmth and the feel of you against his skin.

You hated that it felt like your heart was trying to claw it’s way out of your chest. So you did what you normally did when you were faced with a pressing issue. You drowned yourself in blankets and fell asleep.

You couldn’t tell how long it’d been, falling asleep rather quickly due to your overwhelming mixed emotions that your brain was exhausted from handling, but you’d woken up when you felt an arm wrap itself around your waist.

You looked out into the dark in alarm, but your body eased instinctively when you heard his voice say that he missed you so much he couldn’t sleep as he pulled you into his embrace.

You wanted to call him a liar. You knew he didn’t really need to sleep often. It was a part of his modifications. The nights you spent together, he held you as you slept, listening and waiting for your breathing to even out. He once told you that the sight of your sleeping face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

You frowned, feeling unsure, but you closed your eyes as you leaned closer to him. You could argue with him in the morning.

For now, you were just grateful that he was by your side. You didn’t want to admit it, but your bed felt empty without him.

#male yandere #protective #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #thanks again!#yandere cyborg #cybrog yandere x gn reader

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saintsenara · 12 days

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How are you able to enjoy toxic/unhealthy/“problematic” ships/characters without feeling weird (for lack of a better word) about it?

I ask this because I want to be able to do this myself as it seems like a much more enjoyable way of engaging with fiction to me. I can get over some ships just being toxic and the characters not being good together and still enjoy their dynamic but I have trouble with the other ships that feel morally wrong. I know it’s just fiction but I can’t seem to get over the ick feeling I have when I think about those ships/characters. I feel like I’m being too puritanical about these things but I don’t know how to stop feeling like something is gross when I feel it’s gross…

Do you have any tips to stop jumping to moralizing ships/characters?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i'm going to be upfront that this reflexive gross feeling isn't something i've ever really struggled with - both in fic and more broadly. this is due to various personal idiosyncrasies, above all the fact that i've got disengaged boomer parents who didn't police our media consumption [my favourite book when i was eleven? lolita...] and that i'm a doctor, which is a profession which requires you to develop a very high threshold for what you find disgusting. the human body - at all stages of its life-cycle and its cycle of decomposition - produces a lot of different fluids... and it's also the case that [just as if you can think of it, there's porn for it] if an inanimate object exists, somebody somewhere has got it stuck inside them...

and so the situation that i find myself in is that i consider it infinitely less weird that i enjoy the odd bit of hot tomarrymort action than that i actively enjoy cutting through bone with a saw...

but, obviously, "get a medical degree" isn't particularly helpful advice...

i am a ride-or-die fan of the concept of stepping outside of your comfort zone. this is why i'm such an avowed multishipper - i think it's good for us as fandom citizens to examine the potential of our faves in relationships [romantic or otherwise] which are either not their canon endgames or which aren't our preferred pairings, and in situations which don't align with their canon experiences [whether that means making them suffer or giving them full-on fluff]. it draws out the multiple aspects of a character to consider them from these different angles - and it prevents us from getting so stuck in one interpretation of a character or configuration of a ship which means that it puts our backs up to stumble across stories which approach things differently.

but stepping outside of your comfort zone doesn't mean that you have to go enormously far. it may be that a reader decides - having only ever read teen-rated fics where characters' sex lives don't extend beyond hand-holding and forehead kisses - to take the plunge into an explicit piece filled to the brim with watersports and age play. it may be that a reader decides - having only ever read teen-rated fics for one canon pairing - to read a teen-rated fic for a non-canon alternative. both of these are entirely valid approaches.

by which i mean, our comfort levels and our thresholds for discomfort are subjective, they're personal. if there are ships or themes or characters you don't want to read about because they don't feel good... you're not doing something wrong if you avoid them. exposing yourself to fics you expect to make you uncomfortable can be useful - and fiction is certainly a way to explore discomfort which gives you much more control over the experience than encountering it in real life - but it's not something you're obliged to do to be active in fandom.

the thing you are obliged to do to be active in fandom is to be nice to other people, no matter what their tastes in fiction. this means, at its fundamental level, that when you see people who ship pairings or like themes which make you think "ew"... you keep it to yourself/the group chat rather than putting it on the timeline.

but, once this is something you've got the hang of [which takes a bit of time! but practice makes perfect!], something i feel can be a really useful way of overcoming a tendency towards knee-jerk moralising reactions is to just vibe in the vicinity of people you know like the content you instinctively feel is gross.

this doesn't mean you have to read any of this content - but you'll learn just by hanging out near them that the people who do are just... normal. one minute they might reblog a rec for a pairing you think "absolutely not" about, the next they might reblog a cat picture which makes you squeal with delight. you'll like some of their content, but not all. you'll agree with some of it, but not all. you might like progressively more of it as you spend time in their orbit - maybe they'll explain why they like the pairing or character in question and you'll think "huh, i've never looked at it like that" - or you might not. this is absolutely fine.

all of us - at one time or other - have made a black-and-white moralising pronouncement: people who think x are gross; people who like y are fucked-up, you'd never catch me doing z. and these pronouncements are different from our wider, societally-influenced moral codes - which are good things, otherwise we'd live in the purge - in that they're fundamentally ways for us to feel good about ourselves and our families and our friends by defining ourselves as better than a faceless other. we say "you'd never catch me reading that, it's foul" when we know [or think we know] that the friend we're talking to would agree with the statement. we are far less likely to say it if we know that the friend - whom we see as a human being who is beautiful in their imperfection and inherently worthy of love simply by virtue of being alive - was reading and enjoying that just the other day.

and so the best way to train yourself out of reflexively moralising ships or characters or tropes is to put a face to the faceless other who likes them. be intentional in sharing a space with fans of the stuff you feel uncomfortable with and, eventually, it just becomes background noise. you'll scroll on tumblr, say "well there we are, jane's written some more of her sirius/harry piss kink fic - although i'm not interested in clicking on it" and go on with your day.

because the other thing i think it's really useful to do is to train yourself into reframing your disgust as disinterest. there are plenty of things which i don't seek out to read - and some of these topics are completely benign and some are darker [i don't enjoy reading explicit non-con, for example] - but this is because i try to frame it as that i don't think these things would interest me.

this is still the maintenance of a personal comfort zone, but thinking of the content outside this zone as something you are disinterested in turns it into something neutral. when you think of it as something to be disgusted or grossed out by, it naturally provokes a visceral response which makes you look through a moral lens. thinking in terms of disinterest, instead, gives you sufficient detachment from this visceral response to recognise, interrogate, contextualise, and control it.

and - in time - this neutral reframing may result in you feeling more interested in taking the plunge into the ships and characters and stories you currently don't vibe with, once you don't have an instinctive disgust response as a barrier.

or it may not. and this is absolutely fine.

#asks answered #on fandom

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mysticbewitched · 8 months

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mysticc, i need your help.

i'm a 17 years old girl, who is finishing high school this year. i do not want it. i want to be 14 again, and have my desired life. but i don't know how to do that. i don't know if i apply the law of assumption, i don't know if go to nondualism philosophy or if i go to the shifting methods.

it's a lot of things, but they doesn't matter to me, i just want to wake up in my desired reality with my dream life. it's like now everything that i know about nondualism, loa and shifting just disappears and I stop believing again.

please, help me. it's so desperate and confused.

— your 🐝 anon.

I understand that you're feeling confused and I hope to clear things up for you.

You see, you could dive into many methods as you pleased for wanting to experience your desired reality, but this is coming from an inner place of not understanding who you are.

Methods are pointless "shiny toys" to waste your time on without vital knowledge of your true self and faith in yourself as a conscious creator.

I realize that there is an all-out war on this platform of "Loa" vs. Nondualism and the most ridiculous part of it all is that both sides of the mirror don't seem to understand that the whole core of the Law of Consciousness goes back to Nondualism philosophy.

Nondualism is never something for you to "apply" in order to "get" your desires. Nondualism is not a toy or "another trend" for you to use in order to "try" out and "see if it works for you."

It is all connected to form the greater picture of it all.

People are absolutely missing the point of the entire greater picture behind everything and the absolute truth behind our infinite manifestation power and our ability to warp our reality.

There should not be any of these pointless wars going on. It is all saying the same thing at the end of the night, and none of these "separate" communities are actually understanding each piece that fits into the whole puzzle.

The ultimate objective here is: freedom from a false sense of self-identification.

You must understand that Nondualism is *not* a method for you to "try" for your manifestations.

It is only a lifestyle of living and a philosophy for understanding your true nature as awareness and the one reality of consciousness.

All of the concepts that you have learned, such as self-concept, consciousness is the only reality, "the void state", states of consciousness - it all directly goes back to the paramount foundation of Nondualism's philosophy.

The Law of Consciousness and Nondualism are honestly one in the very same. The only difference is in the approach of the way these teachings are being taught. These are just different terms to explain the nature of your true self as awareness and the role of consciousness.

You only believe that you are a person, and this is the deceptive game of the ego, but you are actually omnipotent awareness disguised in human form while observing and experiencing the life of a human being. You are the universe experiencing itself.

The issue here is how a vast amount of people in this community completely misunderstand and misinterpret teachings of the Law of Consciousness (you are *IT*) and approach the subject of conscious manifestation with an ignorant, ego-based view without truly knowing their power and cutting down to the beautiful core of who they truly are.

I'll say it once more, you guys are taking the completely wrong approach when it comes to understanding manifestation and what it means to live as a conscious manifestor after discovering who you truly are. Omnipotent and all-powerful.

Consciously manifesting your desires is only a pleasurable bonus of choosing to break free from victim mentality and live from the confident, peaceful mindset of understanding your true self, and how the game of your life actually works in truth. This is all purely about awakening from the illusionary dream of your life to who you truly are and experiencing living out your experiences from a transformed sense of self-perception.

You said that, "I just want to wake up in my desired reality with my dream life" - you see, this right here is the *whole problem.* This is coming from a place of complete ignorance and a lack of understanding.

The blatant ignorance of true self's nature.

You do not understand the whole purpose of manifestation, which is to recognize your true self behind your human disguise. This is simply about self-realization during your spiritual awakening.

You guys want to completely rush straight into manifesting your desires without taking the time to actually learn and understand the infinite and boundless nature of who you truly are.

Without understanding who you truly are, you continue to stay asleep in the dream of the reality that you have been creating all this time without realizing it and being completely ignorant of your omnipotent power as the creator of all there is.

Take a moment and look around you to just sit with your awareness and closely observe your surroundings. See the nature, the sky, your body's form, and the totality of life itself happening all around you - you created all of this. You are experiencing your own creations every day. Isn't it beautiful? You are infinite power itself.

Without knowing your true self, you stay stuck and continue to struggle in a vicious cycle with victim mentality, frustration, impatience, and complete ignorance on your manifestation journey. Yet, I have seen that so many of you refuse to open your eyes and understand the issue behind your struggles throughout your spiritual awakening.

None of this matters for a second unless you truly know your omnipotent power and your true self.

None of this is ever about manifesting your desires. You inevitably experience a personal Heaven on earth in your reality when you understand your true self as awareness.

Who you are is not the role of the human that you are only pretending to be in the game of life when, in truth, you are so much greater and more infinitely powerful than you could ever recognize. Your power cannot ever be put into any words to be described, and absolutely anything is possible for you.

Now, when it comes to consciously manifesting a desire from the perception of knowing your true self:

All you have to do is simply decide that something is done because you are the one in control of "reality."

Accept your desire as now already fulfilled with an inner mind of a confident expectation for its manifestation, and live your life walking by faith, knowing who you are with every step you take.

What is impossible for the limitless creator?

You can warp every single little bit of reality.

I hope that I was able to shed some light for you and put things into a different perspective for you to re-consider moving forward on your spiritual journey of enlightenment.

#law of assumption #law of manifestation #law of consciousness #manifesting #manifestation #nondualism #nonduality

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wolven91 · 9 months

Text

A Heated Bed - Chapter 3

Matt was perched on the end of his bed sitting mostly still. It was an odd fact that he'd yet to actually use the furniture for a full night's rest and he was already starting his second day on board the felinoid craft. He was currently resting his chin against one his fists whilst leaning his elbow on his knee and biting his nails on the other hand absently. All the while he maintained an impressive thousand-yard stare at the far wall.

The human was considering the situation he had put himself into, contemplating it properly and turning it over in his mind. Matt had come to the conclusion that he could no longer allow himself to simply wash down the river in the currents that he was being subjected to. He had to enforce his own will, or he'd be drowned by the creatures he was sharing a craft with.

As Ruby, the felinoid who had started all this off, put it; he was experiencing 'True Freedom' for the first time. The way she said it though. The emphasis she used sounded differently than the words he knew them as and the implications he had learned for them didn't seem to fit properly. He suspected that something was being lost in the translation between her language and his own. The way she had described it, 'True Freedom' was intimidating to those who hadn't actually experienced it before.

And the more that Matt now considered it, the more he realised it was true. Back home; 'home', home, he was told what was right, not in just not being a general dick, but what was 'normal' or expected.

Then everything went wrong, the human suppressed a flinch as the fearful memories that he had no intention of confronting any time soon bubbled back up. He unconsciously licked at the scar that marred the side of his mouth, a 'gift' from those times. After Earth wasn't his or anyone else's problem anymore, he was thrown into the hands of a government that apparently barely knew anything about humans. This government then told him what they had decided was 'right' and 'correct'. In their opinion, his objective was now to work, but he 'didn't have to'. All the while they flaunted the hellish grey world that awaited him if Matt didn't earn his way. Oh sure, you won't starve, they said, you won't be homeless either, but you will only have a bare minimum with nowhere to call your own.

So if you want a home; get on the treadmill and start running.

Was it the choice that was freedom? The choice; work or don't. Conform or don't. If he aligned himself to the power's desire, then he could make a life for himself in the free time he scraped together between working. Was it the reward for working that was freedom? He wasn't so sure now that he'd been dumped into the deep end of a society that toted 'True Freedom'.

The felinoids showed up and exposed Matt to something. different. The hand he had been biting the nails of stopped and gently touched at his bottom lip. It still tingled at the fresh memory; it was barely a handful of hours past since he had been kissed by Onyx. More passionately than anything he'd had experienced before, albeit his personal experience list on the matter was short to say the least. He hadn't hated it either, quite the contrary, but now, on his own; the heavily ingrained guilt was creeping out from the depth of his skull.

He was human, they weren't. This was the first aspect which his mind taunted him with. His mind played that concept over and over, happily reminding the man that humanity was a dying, critically endangered race and had been for a quarter of a year with no change. But it was the fact that the creature wasn't the opposite sex to him that seemed to play on his mind more. Matt's upbringing had more to say on that matter than the former concept any way. If or when he encountered another human, messing around with another species was excusable, but if they were the opposite... god this felt like the wrong mental track to take! It felt morally wrong to the man, like he was becoming someone he'd hate just by thinking like this. But... all his conditioning from his upbringing was struggling to fit in this new world and this? This was the thing his mind was sticking on because it was something that Earth had or did have. Matt's subconscious mind understood this concept of 'correct' genders so clung to it like a lifeline despite its horrid nature.

The man stood and breathed in to swear, but stopped himself as his mind flashed to the past. Like a burst balloon he exhaled and instead tried to shake himself from the thought. Onyx was lovely, he, no, 'they' were lovely. They had taken him by surprise, sure, but he wasn't into... Matt didn't... If he wanted Onyx to kiss him again, was it gay? What about those twins, would that be...? The punk? Ruby?

Matt suppressed the urge to shout in frustration. He had no clue what was right, or wrong or... or... what was he supposed to be worrying about!? His mind told him to feel shame without an explanation, but his maddening loneliness was screeching at him to grab onto at least one of them and never let go. Whilst his brain couldn't explain why he should feel shame, it knew exactly why he should avoid being alone. Three damned months he'd been alone. Three months day in, day out, with an utter absence of another. He had wanted to die towards the end of that hell.

Even when Matt had not just stepped out of, but truly left his comfort zone, and tried to engage in conversation with others; it hadn't gone well. The man had researched what they were talking about the day before with a plan to offer an opinion or agree with someone else. In answer to him joining in, they'd dispersed almost immediately. Back in the present, Matt clapped his hands over his face at the memory of the embarrassment, his body physically tightening in shame, his toes curling into the plush carpet. The shame of social suicide as he cemented his place as an outcast on the station replayed in his head. He didn't want to think about this!

'But these creatures haven't shunned you...' His mind offered him, like a pusher offering an addict what they desired despite them barely keeping it together. 'They've accepted you unlike anyone before...' His body stopped tensing in response to the lifeline. 'You could take and take and take.'

No, he wouldn't... abuse their kindness. He wasn't a bastard, he didn't want to hurt anyone. He had to take control. He had to control himself and school his thoughts too.

Ruby and Onyx, they took him by surprise. He... he enjoyed everything that happened, but it was a heat of the moment thing. Yeah... yeah! That was it! He had gone from utter loneliness to being doted on. Of course! Of course, he would go along with that. Like being drunk and going along with the group, one could end up doing stuff one wouldn't do normally. His body relaxed more and more as this train of thought gathered speed and solidified as a reasonable excuse and mental out.

Matt nodded into the empty room as his mind latched onto this conceptualisation of what he'd experienced. Everything that had happened last night, and this morning was a one off. He was still who he was a few days ago and all that had changed was that he had made new friends. They weren't what he was used to, true, but he'd accept them regardless, and the rest of them for who they were as well.

Matt decided that he'd pass no judgments, he would hold himself to his standards, not them. To ensure he did this right, he spoke to himself, verbally making an agreement and setting ground rules for himself.

"Okay, first goal; no snogging anyone else. Simple. I've been doing that the majority of my life so far; this will be the easiest one. Second, tonight, I will sleep in my own bed. Whether I fall asleep or not, I will not climb into someone else's bed."

The man nodded with his fists against his hips, these were good, reasonable goals. Left things nice and open for discovering whatever new concepts the felinoids wanted to reveal today.

As for today, maybe he wasn't planning on becoming a teacher when he left, but even if the idea of standing in front of a class petrified him, it was better than staring at a computer typing in people's names from one spreadsheet to another. He'd dedicate himself to educating the felinoids as they had asked him to.

He'd never seen the other races of aliens express themselves in such a manner as the felinoids did. Perhaps the station he'd been on was particularly uptight, and there were other touchy-feely aliens out there? He didn't know, but either way, he'd give the felinoids a fair understanding of what was polite and what wasn't when interacting with humans. He'd avoid the subjects he wasn't sure on; it wasn't his place to speak on matters he knew little about. It should be easy enough to ignore or redirect those questions.

His door chirped, having the man flinch and look round at the still securely locked door. The console light pulsed; someone was asking to see him.

"Come in." He called out, blinking and coming back to the 'real world' and disregarding his almost mad rant to himself.

The door revealed Ruby, who gracefully tiptoed into his quarters. Matt noted that it seemed all the felinoids walked on their toes, giving the impression of a runway model regardless of who it was. It was as if when they walked, if Matt was standing in the way, they'd either walk through him or over him without breaking stride. She stopped a few steps in and waved her hand at the door controls, effortlessly ordering it to close and give them privacy. Matt had yet to work out the intricacies of the device, he'd been too busy trapped in his own head.

The human stood and brushed his worn jeans down and smoothing the wrinkles out of his flannel shirt as best he could. He didn't own an iron and the only other clothes he had were jumpsuits or plain white tops that he had bought at the station for cheap. The clothes he wore were his 'best' despite the singes to the hems. He looked up at the smiling alien and breathed in to recite his practised speech.

"Hey Ruby, listen, last night, I. I wanted to thank you for helping me. I really got some good sleep, and I'm sorry if I imposed or snored or-" A thickly furred paw gently closed over his mouth.

"Are we about to assume what I find offensive?" Asked the towering alien, crooking a single eye ridge. Matt could have sworn he heard the click of a gun's hammer being cocked.

Matt reached up to grasp her paw, but it didn't budge. She did, however, gain a smirk. The human shook his head in answer to her and the hand immediately left him in response. Her crooked finger, however, was placed against the underside of his chin and she forced him to look up and meet her gaze.

"My Matt, you are not a burden. I invited you into my home, just as I did Onyx. I did that with the knowledge that for all I knew, when you slept you would screech at the top of your lungs like a Farfellel beetle. If that was so, I may have retracted my invitation for future nights, but I would not have blamed you even then. Please... for me? Stop saying 'sorry' for things you have not done wrong."

The alien stood there, holding his chin, other hand on her hip and staring the human down. He grimaced and understood he was pushing it now. Still, he had caused her negative emotions and like two plus two equals what one would expect, he couldn't stop himself as his programming demanded the correct response to forcing her into saying that.

"I apologise. Wait! I didn't say sorry- Oof!"

His words were cut off as the felinoid stepped forward, and with one paw, gripped the front of Matt's shirt, lifted him up and launched him backwards onto the bed where he bounced once, rolling head over shoulders, into a collapsed mess. It seemed he had finally found the limits to her patience. Matt was unharmed, but he had a new understanding of just the kind of strength Ruby had, saying that the long fur did little to hide the bodybuilder's physique she controlled.

"Now I forgive you. You are not allowed to reference it again." Ruby declared with a resolute nod before clapping her paws together loudly. "Now! You have a bit of an issue that should hold your attention."

Matt disengaged himself from the bed, and stepped back around to the foot of it, closing the distance with the alien, straightening himself again, but giving her his full attention.

"Okay, right, what's that then?"

"Your... etiquette lessons, if that's what we're calling them? When I explained to the crew before we left the station that humans required a different approach if we wanted to give a good first impression, some interest was raised." The alien grimaced and continued. "Since you joined the ship however, most if not all the crew have made it clear they want to be part of the lessons."

She stalked around him and sat on the bed, becoming just under his eye line in height, it felt odd to be near eye to eye with her.

"I attempted to mitigate this without your input by claiming we were only doing small groups. This has caused its own issues as now many of the crew are calling in favours, or buying and selling their place on the possibility they get a place and... well... you're new, you're cute and everyone wants to meet you. How would you like to handle this?" She asked, finishing up her explanation. Matt blinked as he processed the information, he skimmed past the compliment hidden in there and considered his task. Explaining etiquette is fairly easy, but talking to too many of them would be too much for him personally.

"Maybe... I can do several lessons, but with smaller groups? It might take longer, but that way everyone gets a go. How long is our current trip?" As he spoke the man scratched at his chin, thinking carefully how best to handle them all. Whilst Matt was unsure of how to handle the social norms of aliens, if given a task, his mind could grasp it and work it out as best it could. It was the first time in a long while that the man was able to really utilise his intellect for a task more complicated than data input and he relished it.

"Oh we have at least a week of travel between systems alone. Then we'll swing by the station in the same system, figure out if there's humans on board and go from there." Ruby explained, leaning back on the bed on her outstretched hands.

"Okay, the lessons should be fairly easy. For the most part it's just some core 'rules' and everything else is just your judgement as to whether it's appropriate." The man chuntered to himself as he figured out what he was going to do.

Ruby frowned as he verbalised his work, then her features softened again as she looked up at Matt and caught his eye with a warm smile.

"It sounds complicated, but you will do brilliantly, and I will sit in on the first few so I shall learn as well. You will not be alone."

=== 0 ===

Matt stood outside the room that had been designated his 'classroom'.

He had hoped that there would be more time to prepare. To create some sort of lesson plan or something. He'd heard someone who was a teacher once say something about a 'lesson plan' and it sounded like a good concept now he was about to begin a class without a clue what he was going to say. He took a deep breath and let it out. He did it again and entered the room before his bravery left him.

The human had been unconsciously expecting a classroom. Desks in rows or an auditorium. Maybe a desk or podium at the front for him to sit at or more likely hide behind? He'd later consider the idea and be forced to ask why the hell aliens would have school desks like Earth? But this didn't occur to the man until the early hours of the following morning.

Instead, it was a relatively small, cosy room. The walls were a deep sunset orange and realistically, there wasn't much floor space to walk about in. The centre of the room was dominated by a huge, raised piece of furniture. It was circular with a single 'segment' removed, where one could walk into the centre and sit on the thick looking cushions. Matt gauged that it came up to his chest in height, but the backrests were taller than him. It looked like a fancy sofa or settee suite and it certainly looked comfortable with how the group of aliens were lounging about on it.

The group were chatting amongst themselves and seemed to consist mostly of familiar faces. Ruby was present, she was very much aware of Matt's arrival and was the only one facing the door. She said nothing though, lounging back, sitting cross legged and resting her head against a raised finger. She had a smirk on her muzzle as she watched him and let the group live in ignorance as they continued debating something.

Matt chose the wall closest to the door and facing the missing segment. He went and stood by it before clearing his throat. Like a ripple, the conversation stopped, the various swivelling ears atop of the various alien's heads turned to face him, followed by the faces of all present.

He knew all four present, well... 'knew' was perhaps too strong of a word. Ruby was present and he had known her roughly two days at this point. Onyx was missing, but he recognised the garish colours and stark white mohawk of the punk felinoid hair from this morning. Furthermore, were the two golden pelts of the twin lions, they were draped over one another. Mercifully, they were wearing what looked like oversized towels, connected around their hips that stopped just short of their knees instead of being stark naked.

"Umm, hello, everyone." Matt started, unsure as to what to say. All of a sudden, his mouth was dry and his mind empty of thoughts. The aliens' faces were impassive and watched him carefully.

"Ah, we're... That is Ruby... Well, I've been asked to talk about our... I mean, my, ah, human manners, or-or-or..." Matt stopped himself, sighing through his nose in defeat. He was panicking and tripping over his words. It had gone wrong already so he closed his eyes. He kept them closed as he spoke next.

"I'm sorry, I'm- I'm not great at speaking in front of a group." They'd bet on the wrong horse here and now they were going to realise-

"I have a question." Asked a voice, dropping the bottom out of Matt's stomach. The room reappeared as Matt opened his eyes and the punk gave him a wave. She grinned briefly before speaking again. "Why are you standing there?"

"Yeah, aren't you tired?" Asked one of the lions, laying on his front, taking up the most space on the large round 'sofa'.

"Oh... Should I be...? Where do you want me to stand?" Matt asked, mildly concerned that he'd just picked wrong and there was a correct place to stand.

"You have to stand?" Asked the other lion, whose legs the first lion was draped over, briefly copying the punk by raising a hand. The golden fur and red mane rippled as he glanced at the punk before back to the human.

"Well... I... I thought I did? My teachers always stood at the front, I was just copying them, you know?" Matt extended his hands out to the side, palms exposed. "It's my first day."

"Do they have to? You don't unless that is part of politeness?" Asked the other lion, his voice rumbling. This one seemed to constantly be purring and extended the end of his sentences peculiarly.

"I don't think so? It's just so you all can see and hear me. I think?"

"So, if we can't hear you standing up there, you'd have to sit with us?" Pointed out the prone lion, but before Matt could reply, the twin chipped in.

"I can't actually hear you, I'm really struggling."

"Me too, plus I can't see you." Added the punk, who had admitted being forced to turn herself to see him, now turning back to the centre of the sofa with a flick of her ears.

"I could also do with hearing you better." Confirmed Ruby, briefly raising a clawed paw to have her vote added. Ruby's smirk had developed into a full grin by now. Why did Matt have a feeling that she knew it would go this way?

"That's decided then. Come on, sit down then." The punk commanded, patting the sofa with a toothy grin. Matt blinked, glanced at Ruby who shrugged with an unreadable smile, before Matt straightened his shoulders and attempted to govern his thoughts. 'They were just energetic, give them this and then regain control. You're in control of your destiny.'

The human strode over to the sofa, standing in the missing segment. If Matt was standing at the six o'clock of the sofa, going around the circle from his left, the punk was sitting closest to him at eight, Ruby at eleven o'clock and the twin lions on Matt's immediate right at four or five o'clock.

It was intimidating to be stared at by what had previously been predators in Matt's youth. To be fair though, he'd only seen TV shows for most of them present. Matt perched on the edge of the sofa.

"So." He began before being cut off as two thick arms looped around his middle and dragged him backwards into the sofa until his legs were flat and he found himself being propped up against the raised back of the furniture, placed neatly next to the punk felinoid.

"Look, you were going to be sat there all stiff and that was going to annoy me." The punk explained, waving her hand dismissively as he looked round at her. "This way you can relax and so can we." she tilted her head and smiled with her eyes closed, her various piercings through her ears gleamed and glittered.

Matt wanted to protest, but each of the aliens sitting around him nodded sagely in agreement with her. Matt decided not to push it; it was fine, regain control, it's fine.

"Is it true humans don't like other species?" Asked the punk who leaned forwards, quirking an eye ridge, Matt mentally retreated, but quickly recovered to dissuade that idea.

"What? No! I mean, there will be some, sure, but no that's not true as a general rule." He retorted, briefly glancing around the group to ensure they understood that he didn't not like them or anything.

"Is it true you shed?" Asked the prone lion, now propping his head up in his hands supported on his elbows and lazily kicking his legs. Had he gotten closer?

"Not... Like I don't have fur or scales, but..."

Matt felt another wave of questions coming, but just before they started flying.

"Enough!" Ruby interjected, stalling the next question before it began. "I believe if we do not focus, we will not actually take part in what we've intended to do with this lesson."

"But he's new!" Pointed out the dramatic lion. "We have to know stuff!"

"There will be time to ask questions, we are here to learn and are lucky to be doing so." Replied the punk, nodding before making eye contact with the human. Her different coloured eyes were glinted.

The lion huffed, going limp and letting his face hit the sofa.

"Well... what would be the best place to start I suppose?" Matt asked himself.

"What about a good introduction?" Ruby asked, going back to her fully relaxed pose and draping her arms over the back of the round sofa.

"Honestly, it's just introducing yourself and going from there." Matt supplied, smiling at his lifeline.

"I want to try then!" Said the prone lion, only now he pushed himself up right and had a wide and open grin. Matt was glad of the towel, with how he was kneeling the human would have got another good eyeful. The back of Matt's neck tingled with the idea of seeing the lion in all his 'glory' again. He stamped on the idea; It was rude, it was crude, and it was fun. No! Bad thoughts!

"S-sure, let's pretend you've just seen me and you're introducing yourself." The lion's face lit up and with incredible dexterity, pushed his hands into the sofa, lifted himself off the cushions and swung his legs beneath him so he landed his feet against the floor of the missing section and scooted closer. Matt, wanting to be polite and meet him halfway, leant forward and scooted towards him.

"Hello! Hi! I am Yilen!" Announced the friendly creature, beaming from ear to ear.

"Hello Yilen, I'm-Oof!" Matt's reply was cut off as the giant lion launched himself forwards and pancaked the human against the sofa. Thankfully it deformed around the larger creature, preventing Matt from being crushed, that didn't stop the alien from pushing his face into the human's, wiping his cheeks and mane against him as if a cat marking its territory. The only problem was this cat was significantly bigger and capable of holding the man down. All the while a rumble on par with a muscle car's engine was vibrating the pair of them.

His mind also made note that it was most of the alien's front that was pressed against him, his legs were pinned and aside from some limited movement in his arms, there was not much he could do to resist.

"W-wait, hold on! Y-yilen?"

The lion paused, raising up and beamed down at him.

"How'd I do?!"

Matt wasn't sure how to respond, staring up at the creature, he was aware he was meant to be in control here, but couldn't bring himself to admonish the overenthusiastic felinoid.

"Ah, you're... it was a good first try, but you can't... not everyone will appreciate it being pounced on and pinned? I think?"

Yilen's ears lowered flat against his skull.

"I did wrong?" He asked, backing up and off of the human, who grunted as he tried to sit back up. The punk's toes pushed his shoulders from behind helping him. He noted that while they were removed from his shoulders, he could feel the toes touching the base of his spine.

"It was a first try, I'm not expecting you to just magically know how all this goes. But a safe way of saying hello is introducing yourself like you did, but instead of jumping on top of them, offer them your hand. Like this..." Matt extended his hand as if to shake the lion's paw. Only instead Yilen grabbed the hand, lowered himself, whilst pulling Matt forwards and manually ran Matt's hand over and through the fur and mane that was on top of the lion's skull.

It took a few minutes of trying and coaxing before the alien started to get it. Matt taught him slowly on how to shake hands as a greeting, explained that it was a common action as a mark of respect or agreement amongst humans, but not used widely with aliens. This was particularly interesting to the group as they all wanted some sort of advantage over the other races while dealing with humans.

They made no attempt to hide their intentions to Matt, when he asked why they were so interested in humans they explained that they had experimented with sensations and experiences amongst themselves and with the other races too and, realistically, were now bored. There was nothing new to their race for several hundreds of years.

Then humans appeared. A whole race of creatures that had no intention of working beyond what they had to and put value into the new, the unique or experiences of something new and unique. Humans were all those things so naturally the felinoids were being drawn to them like moths to a flame.

The next time Matt honestly took any notice of his surroundings, he surprisingly found himself propped up against the backrest of the sofa, between the lions, Yilen and Kiki, and the punk, who he had discovered was called Esk. Esk had her arm draped over and around his shoulders. He only actually noticed as the conversation had naturally led to a lull and Esk’s claws were gently scratching circles into his shoulder through his shirt.

"Why do you have so many rules?" Asked Kiki, the slightly more reserved of the twins.

Matt leant his head back and looked to the ceiling for answers. He wasn't some social or culture specialist! How was he supposed to know the answer to such a broad question?

"Well..." He began before stopping. It occurred to him that a bunch of rules came up thanks to religion and the many things that had to say about various matters. Was it his place to discuss that? Amongst the topics of gender and choice he didn't know enough about religion either. Oh sure, his childhood was filled with 'be good or burn forever' threats that went away after was old enough to not be involved but there was a whole history behind that subject too, beyond just punishment. Religion wasn't some inherent 'evil' thing, its problem was that it could be used in certain ways for the personal gain of others just like any other belief.

But like anything with belief involved, it was a touchy subject. If he said the wrong thing, would he sour the relationship between humanity and felinoids? He opted for vague.

"...it just developed with our culture. We've... we've had a couple thousand years to develop this stuff and it just sort of... builds up over time."

"Do you enjoy all the rules?" Ruby asked.

"Not especially, but I guess they help me take the path with the least chance of upsetting someone?"

"Because if you don’t follow the rules you’ll upset someone, so you like the rules?"

“I suppose if we didn’t have all the various do’s and don’ts you couldn’t trip over the do’s and don’ts, would you?” Matt admitted with a forced chuckle and a half grin.

“Do you need them?” Probed Yilen, basically laying on Matt’s legs. Matt gave a flat smile, no, it wasn’t needed. To him; it was a choice. Memories rose up from the tar-like depths.

“On Earth, to ‘navigate’ everything? Yeah. My family, my parents felt it was important to be polite. Up here though… I… Well… I suppose now that’s Earth is gone and we’re not allowed to group up… A bunch of things aren’t going to be relevant anymore? Y-you know?” Matt’s voice wobbled and cracked out of nowhere. He blinked in surprise and tried to clear his throat, but a lump had appeared and refused to budge. The man blinked again and the group of aliens became blurry.

His mother taught him grace.

Frowning, Matt put a polite hand over his mouth and tried to clear his throat more forcefully, but the pain there was building and causing his eyes to water. Instead, his cough caused his chest to quake, which caused something to fall from his eye onto his cheek. Matt brought his hand up and wiped his face, his fingers came away wet.

His father taught him humility.

“I’m sorry, I’m…” He started, trying to apologise but unsure as to what was happening, so blind sided by these unneeded reactions as he was. The man moved to shuffle away from the group, to extract himself from the room and get himself under control. What was wrong with him?!

He tried to say something, but his voice was threatening to close up and his damned eyes kept leaking!

His sister taught him patience.

Matt had barely moved before a paw landed on his shoulder, stopping him. A blurred glance; Esk’s hand.

“Why are you sorry?” Asked Yilen, his paw now reaching out and resting on Matt’s shin, not holding him there, but Matt would need to snatch his limb away to be released.

They never made it.

“B-because, I’m-“ Matt had to clear his throat to continue, but he couldn’t. "Ah… I'm…"

His family’s faces became harder to see over time, but the day itself was as clear as day. He was in the city, buying wrapping paper of all things. He'd been lucky enough to have been there when the crafts landed and collected people in huge groups, with or without their consent. They had used weapons, Matt flinched at the memory of his muscles spasming with alien lightning running through them. The scar that marked his lip was from when he had been grabbed; it wasn’t deliberate, they had been rushed.

The aliens in the room that Matt’s body, but not mind occupied sat up and reached out for him.

Matt never had a chance to go home. No heirlooms, no memories of his family had made it. That all was gone now, not even ashes remained.

The felinoids were watching him carefully, but he was frozen in place, merely staring back at them without seeing. Someone pressed a hand to his cheek, a thumb wiped at the steady stream of tears.

There was no proof that they’d live or died. The man had tried everything to locate them. Their names, descriptions, he'd begged and pleaded with any of the aliens who were organising the giant mess for even a crumb of hope. He begged other humans but there was no record of his family or anyone matching their description being rescued. Everyone was looking for someone. They were so few, yet so many. Apparently it was only the bare minimum that still had ‘extended’ families.

Matt screwed up his eyes and pushed his hands into his face. Rage bloomed within his chest, rage and fear and frustration. He furiously wiped the tears from his eyes, but they welled back up within a moment.

To hell with Earth and its rules! Back home, he hadn't really cared much about manners, aside from the basics to get him through life!

But now?

It had been a regular topic of contention for his parents and him. They wanted him to be more like them, to be polite, to know how to navigate social graces. Matt had always found it ridiculous and difficult. He’d been obtuse, deliberately going against the grain because it got a rise out of them. He'd been an awful son, for the sake of just being…

Not wearing a hat at the table would have made her smile…

God why didn't he just…

"Matt?"

Reality slammed back into the young man. He thought of himself as a man, but in moments like this he was reminded that he was barely an adult, but an adult all the same. The human was just trying his best, like they would have wanted. Realising he was having a bit of a meltdown and it wasn’t fair to the aliens surrounding him, Matt came back to his senses.

"I'm fine." He croaked, but his face was pressed into Yilen's furred chest and a large hand gripped the back of his head, holding him there. The chest rumbled.

“Please our Matt, please do not lie to us. You are not ‘fine’ and are harming yourself by pretending otherwise…”

Matt was staring into the golden fur of an alien he had known less than a full day.

“You have lost almost everything… You can be sad… You can cry with us, our Matt…”

A sob tore itself from his mouth, finally given permission. The pair of them fall backward, Yilen pulling the human with him as they collapsed. Matt clung to the stranger as a lifeline.

A second and a third choking sob obliterated the human as he finally began to cry for everything he had lost, no longer able to speak.

Three months had passed since the ‘Sol-3 Incident’, the aliens not even wanting to call his home planet by its real name. Three months where he had suppressed everything just so he could fit in. The other felinoids present crowded the pair as they lay there. Matt felt clawed hands grip him from behind before a warm furred body spooned him. Through the tears, he saw the familiar pelt of Ruby crouch over his head and protect him from above, her paws gently stroking his hair. Finally, Kiki’s golden paw appeared from behind Yilen and rested against Matt’s hip.

Finally given permission and truly embraced by the aliens, a beleaguered floodgate finally broke within the human’s mind.

Matt, for the first time, began to mourn his loss in the arms of his new allies.

Discord / Ao3 / Tip Jar / G Drive

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #haso #hfy #humans are space orcs #human x furry #furry #felinoid #cat

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ghostlychief · 6 days

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OKIE, HI LOVE, I'm so excited. I would like to request Touch-starved! John. John, who didn't realize how it felt to be loved. John, who didn't know how nice it felt to be wanted for being just him. John, who's never had a hug in his life, stiffing when his partner gave him a hug before realizing how comforting it was. John, who doesn't know how to hug his partner back and is scared he'll hurt them.

Okay i love this idea so much. YOUR MIND CONTINUES TO AMAZE ME. Because John would TOTALLY be like this at first. Love touch-starved!John. For some reason the concept of the song Drops of Jupiter popped into my head when i thought of this John. I hope you enjoy what i threw together, and hope you're doing well <3

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Drops of Jupiter

John-117/Master Chief x reader

no warnings, just fluff!

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John’s life can really only be measured by statistics, measured quantitatively. From the moment he was found on Eridanus II by Dr. Halsey, his life started to have meaning in the way of numbers. How fast was he growing? How much did he weigh? How much could he lift? Those numbers became one of the most important thing in his life. Besides that, he didn’t have much else to count for. His sole purpose was to train and become the best Spartan II the UNSC has ever seen.

That was until he decided to remove the hormonal pellet, lodged in the center of his lower back, resting in between his spine. Who knew how much power rested in something smaller than a quarter?

This pellet repressed his moods, making sure he was only ever objective, the thought of subjectivity a sin. It also dimmed hormones a normal person experiences in their every day life. Such as, the longing touch of a loved one. Or, the hope to feel accepted by one’s peers. These suppressors were supposed to make the ultimate, elite solider. It was supposed to help aid the Spartan’s on the battle field by making them mission oriented. Act first, ask questions later. As long as the mission was complete and a success, not much else mattered.

At first, John felt disoriented. He felt unbalanced by the new coming of emotions and hormones that spiraled around in his body. There was a crash of emotions washing over his entire body that he forgot he felt before, in a distant past life he wasn’t even sure really existed. It felt rickety, yet exciting. Everything seemed brand new to him. The clouds looked different, the grass brighter, the sun felt warm against his skin. He appreciated the stars that blanketed the sky on a moonless night.

For once, he felt like he completed the orbit around what his life was really about. He finally understood. Life wasn’t just about missions and killing the Covenant. No, there was so much more to it and he finally felt like he touched back home after a long, grueling journey, pulled down by the gravity of the new world he found himself in.

Shortly after his pellet was removed, he met you. You were a linguistic technician that worked closely with many of the people John worked with. You were an expert in Sangheili, which became a hot commodity skill to have in the impending months leading up to the human/Covenant war. John had actually crossed paths with you before, only in passing, but you have met, though not officially.

The day you sat across from him in the cafeteria was Johns’s first encounter with you since feeling different, feeling new. You were already half way seated when you asked, “Mind if I sit here?” John looked up at you, brows furrowed and nodded, but at this point you were already sat down at the table.

“I’d like to pick your brain about something if you don’t mind?” Your sweet voice traveled across to John in the noisy cafeteria and he found himself staring at you for a second before he mentally shook his head. “Sure?” He was still perplexed why you were here sitting with him. Usually no one approached the Spartans unless they were instructed to do so.

“Okay, so I’m in the linguistics department, specifically Sangheili, and I wanted to ask you about the encounters you’ve had with the Sangheili, specifically the higher ranked Sangheili.”

John felt himself slightly smiling at your rambling, but he made sure to hide it from you. He cleared his through them said, “Yeah, I remember you. We met in passing a couple years ago.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh! I didn’t think you’d remember.” This time John made sure you noticed his smile, “Spartans have eidetic memory.”

“Ah, that’s right. Well, that’s good for all the questions I have for you then.” You then proceeded to talk to John about the Sangheili culture and how it related to their patterns of speech for the next two hours, time slipping away, fast through your fingers.

After that, John always felt a pull towards you, seemingly stuck in your orbit. If neither of you were on duty, you’d usually end up going on long walks. John told you about his past, like what it was like being in the Spartan program, and other adventures, like his mission on the Halos. You never interrupted him, and typically had follow-up questions, always curious to learn more about him.

The first time you touched him was when he was explaining how he was taken as a child by Dr. Halsey to be entered into the Spartan program. You rested your hand on his bicep, and your fingers slowly rubbed back and forth in a comforting notion. He at first stiffened, but then soon relaxed under your enchanting touch, longing to feel it again after you left his quarters that night.

He started to see more and more of you, and his feelings slowly and quietly developed into something akin to love, though he was never really sure what that word meant. Not until you. He imagined what love might have been, but could never quantify it since love never dealt in numbers or absolutes. It was abstract, confusing, with no concrete answer to it.

Though all of these new emotions felt confusing at times, John never felt confused by you. You simply loved him, not Master Chief or John-117, just John. Slowly but surely, John felt more comfortable with you, emotionally and also physically. Although Spartans are massive in their stature, people still forget how freakishly strong they actually are. Such as, John can easily flip over a Warthog. So, in dealing with you, he was extra cautious.

The first time you wrapped your arms around his middle in a bone crushing hug, he was worried about hugging back, afraid he would crush you, hurt you. He doesn’t remember ever receiving a hug like that, and he wanted to savor it, and feel it over and over again. Once he realized that he wasn’t going to hurt you, he would always pull you into random hugs through out the day, comforted by your beating heart against his.

John’s life, once measured only in numbers, in quantity, now could be measured by so much more. He was lucky, after all.

---

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leighsartworks216 · 6 months

Text

I Come With Knives Pt9

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Wow two chapters of this in such a short span of time?! Yeah, I'm procrastinating shut up. Not proofread

Warnings: references to blood drinking, ignoring consent/ignoring autonomy, some violence, trauma (that's a given), references/mentions of past abuse

Word Count: 1,760

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“I trade in blood and the potions that can be wrung from it. I’m more than happy to make you one, if you’d honor me with your blood.” Araj Oblodra smiles. It’s not warm or welcoming; something devious dances across her face. It makes you uncomfortable. “With one drop, I can brew a rather potent potion for you. The rest, I keep for myself.”

You can’t hide the grimace that overtakes your face. ‘Sanguineous arts’ already struck an odd chord within you, but asking for your blood? And even going so far as to keep some for herself? “What will you do with the rest?”

“The excess would be used for my experiments. I’m always working to find ways to make stronger potions. Who knows what the blood of a True Soul could do for even a rather simple mixture?”

You cringe. “Not interested, sorry.”

She sighs, scowling. “A pity. Although, perhaps there’s one more thing we can discuss: your friend.” She looks at Astarion, but not as the person he is. Her eyes scan him over like she’s looking at an object, studying a rare work of art. Astarion notices it, too. She turns her eyes from him and he’s relieved to be spared from that look, if only temporarily. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn, at least.”

Astarion slapped on a fake grin. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re all friends under the Absolute.” He lifts his chin, donning an air of confidence. “I won’t bite.”

“Oh I’d prefer if you did.” She smirks. An uneasy feeling settles heavily in your gut. His mask slips. “I assume he belongs to you?”

Your eyes shoot wide open. “Excuse me?” The question has you reeling. It takes you a moment to find your words. “He’s his own person!”

She laughs and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I’m sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable.” For a brief moment, all you see in her place are the faces of all the loyal subjects under her. She turns to the elf, head held high so she’s looking down her nose at him with a sneer. “Do you have a name, spawn?”

When you look over, Astarion is shifting uneasy in his armor. He’s used to being reduced to nothing - less than human, only fit for someone else’s gain. But it hadn’t happened since the crash. This was… a lot. “Astarion, but hold on-”

“Good,” Araj cuts him off with a smirk. “Now, Astarion.” You want to throw up when she says his name like that. “I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl.”

He balks. “I’m sorry? You want to be bitten?”

Something otherly and unsettling sets into her face and voice as she speaks. “To feel your life’s blood slipping away? To dance on the edge between life and death?” Her voice is airy as she says, “Yes, I want it.” You’re fortunate enough it goes back to being somewhat normal when she returns to talking about business. “I’ll even compensate you - a potion of legendary power that forever increases the strength of the one who consumes it. It’s not for sale, but it’s yours if you bite me.”

“I will have to decline.”

“Excuse me?” she scoffs. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you’re squandering it.”

Astarion scowls, creases deepening with the anger in his expression. “I gave you my answer.”

Araj still looks furious when she turns on you. “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”

Your hand twitches by your dagger, but it’s not blind fear that rules you. This is entirely different from the Gur. He’d been on the hunt for you, to bring you back to Berdusk and your master. All Araj cared about was Astarion. All she wanted was for him to bite her, even when he said no. This was not fear, this was anger.

“Can’t you understand ‘no’? He’s not going to bite you.” You glared at the drow. Whatever shock you felt before had been pushed aside. She didn’t care about Astarion’s free will, and she never would. She was just like all the others you’d seen that ache for a vampire’s bite.

She gasps like she’s been insulted to her very core. “It’s obvious you’ve let him indulge plenty in your own neck. Is that it, then? You want him all to yourself?”

You don’t know what happened. Everything is a blur, a flurry of motion that makes your head spin. Once you process where you are, ice floods your veins.

Araj is on the floor, staring up at you with wide, horrified eyes. You’re on top of her, legs straddling her waist and a hand at her shoulder keeping her held down. Your dagger hangs mere inches from her eye. And then you realize the thing that stopped you from killing another innocent: a hand around your wrist, pulling the knife away from Araj. Astarion’s hand.

He doesn’t want her to live, gods no. But he remembers what happened to you the last time you took someone’s life through blind emotion. He doesn’t want to see you like that again.

You scowl down at her as you growl out, “He. Said. No.”

She nods fearfully - she’d have agreed to anything you said if it meant saving her own skin. Your fingers loosen around the handle of the dagger and Astarion pries it from your hand. His other supports your waist as you stand up from the drow, backing away toward the others, who all watched with mixed expressions. You don’t turn away from her until you’re almost by the door. Only once it’s shut do your shoulders relax.

“What happened back there, soldier?” Karlach asks.

You sigh and take your weapon back from Astarion. “She… reminded me of somebody.” As you return the knife to its sheath, you shake your head. “Nevermind. Let’s just go.”

Astarion clears his throat as he enters his tent. You’re sitting on your bedroll, looking at the different candles you’d dug out of storage. You were running low, and you wanted to try optimizing them to the best of your abilities, until you could find or purchase more. You look up from your work, watching as he takes his seat across from you.

“I, uh, I wanted to thank you.”

You tilt your head at him as you set the candles aside. “What for?”

“For nearly killing that vile drow, for what you said back there.”

You half-chuckle. “It, admittedly, wasn’t for purely selfless reasons.” Your hands begin fiddling with each other in your lap. “She reminded me of the servants my master keeps. They all vye for her attention, desperately wishing she would drink from them instead of…” You clear your throat. “When she kept saying you belonged to me, I just- I lost control.”

He hummed, understanding precisely. When Araj saw your scar and brought it up, not knowing he wasn’t the one that gave it to you, her fate was sealed. She would be a corpse right now if he hadn’t acted quickly enough. “I’m grateful, all the same. I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered. You could have asked me to do the same - to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned.”

“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” you asserted. “You’ve spent too long already having to deal with that. And, she didn’t seem like she’d make a good meal.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I don’t believe so.” His nose wrinkled. “Her blood smelled absolutely foul. No potion would have been worth the stomachache.”

“What’s wrong with her blood?”

“Gods know what. There’s no telling what she’s experimented with in her line of work.”

“Gods willing, we’ll never know.” You reach for the candles again, prepared to pick one out so the very moment this one runs out, you’re not fumbling about trying to bring back the light, but his hand stops you. You look at him again. His face is leaned in close to yours.

“There’s… something else I wanted to discuss.” He can see the bob of your throat as you swallow, but you nod. “I know we both have our own demons to contend with, and we will, in time, but…” He lets out a soft breath. “You… You’re incredible. So many times, you’ve had ample opportunity to turn me away for what I am alone, but you didn’t. You confided in me, despite it all.”

“I trust you, Astarion,” you whisper. He can feel the warmth of your air against his lips.

“I want us to be something,” he confesses. “Something real. I just don’t know what ‘real’ looks like. Not after two hundred years of playing the rake.” He frowns. “Being close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back for him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to.”

You lean back from him slightly, giving him more room. He misses the way your breath fanned across his skin, but thinking about it for too long puts a vice around his undead heart. You don’t pull your hand from his. “Is this okay?”

He hums softly, thinking. “I don’t mind it as much, if it’s you,” he admits. “It feels… different. A good different.”

Your lips curl slightly into a soft smile. “Then we can keep figuring it out. Together.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, almost shocked by your answer; surprised with how easily you accept his burdens. “You… You are full of surprises, aren’t you?” He glides his hand along yours until your fingers are interlaced. Palm to palm, he can feel the callouses that litter your hands, built up from the moment your freedom began. They were still soft, only a few weeks old at best. “Honestly, I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next. But I know that this…” He looks into your eyes. You look at him so openly, so earnestly. How could you be the product of your past when he’d ended up the way he did? How could you be so kind despite it all? He smiled. “This is nice.”

---

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artist-issues · 4 months

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Quick question. Have you read any of Brandon Sanderson's books before? If so, what books would you recommend?

Also, what books of C.S. Lewis, would you recommend and why.

I want to start reading them, but I'm uncertain what books I should pick out and try.

Hello my friend!

I've never read Brandon Sanderson, or heard of him! Do you hear good things about him? Should I look into him? Sorry to turn it back around on you.

C. S. Lewis is unlike any other author to me. What he has to say resonates with me and feels like he opened up my heart and put what was in there into order every time I read his stuff. Feels like going to the chiropractor—like my thoughts and emotions and vague ideas have been out of alignment, and he pops them back into place where I didn't even know I needed alignment.

That said, I love all his stuff. Fiction, non-fiction, essays, letters to friends, lectures, everything. So I'm almost...the wrong person to ask, because I would recommend ANYTHING he writes.

I'll try to give you a little recommendation-by-starting point?

If you're looking for fiction: Read the Chronicles of Narnia. If you've already read them, read them again 😅 I read them on loop. They're on my phone. I'm never not reading them.

If you're looking for deeper ("adult") fiction: Read Out of the Silent Planet, then Perelandra—but I don't recommend reading That Hideous Strength until you've tried to read...

3. If you're looking for commentary on fundamental worldviews: Read The Abolition of Man. It's an essay on what C.S. Lewis believed about the idea of "progressivism," but it has a lot to say about objectivity versus subjectivity, and where logic and emotion belong in the priority-list of a person...I just recommend that everybody read The Abolition of Man. Then read That Hideous Strength to finish the Ransom Trilogy, because it's kind of a modern-fairytale picture of what Lewis was trying to say in Abolition. Reading both will compliment his thoughts!

4. If you're still looking for more fiction: Read The Screwtape Letters and The Great Divorce, then Til We Have Faces and The Pilgrim's Regress.

5. If you're looking to set your mind on the things above with C.S. Lewis: Read Mere Christianity, and The Problem of Pain.

6. If you're looking to hear what C.S. Lewis had to say about stories or critical thinking: Read his essay in response to critics of the Lord of the Rings (I think it's called "The Dethronement of Power") and read An Experiment in Criticism. (He has so much good stuff to say about enjoyment, and how humans can use their critical thinking skills to actually get in their own way. C.S. Lewis really believed that people should enjoy what is good to enjoy, in the proper way, and that that was one of the most God-honoring things you could do. He also hated teetotaling along the same lines 😅)

Remember that everything C.S. Lewis writes is very "thematic." He wasn't exactly making allegories all the time, but he was making "supposals" all the time. For example, Narnia is "suppose God created other worlds; in those worlds there had to have been a Jesus; in a world of talking beasts, what would Jesus look like? A lion." Or, "suppose God created life on all the planets in our solar system, not just Earth, and suppose Satan was put in charge of ours while other angels were put in charge of other planets; then what would space travel look like?" And many thematic lessons are tied up in there.

Also, if you read his biography Surprised by Joy and Perelandra, you might come to realize something about C.S. Lewis' beliefs that I'm only just starting to grasp: he thought we make WAY too drastic and exclusive a distinction between "story" and "reality." He believed that there was something in every story which points back to the one great story God made up, which is reality. So he's not afraid to include pagan mythology in his own Christian stories because to him, knowing their history and the cultures they come from, some of those pagan myths and stories tie neatly into truths about God. It might be a hard thing to grasp depending on your Biblical upbringing, but the spirit of what he means is not unbiblical.

Another cool thing I'm learning from Lewis is that he didn't think of all mankind as monsters. Oh, he believed that the Bible was correct when it says "all have sinned; there is none righteous," etc. He certainly didn't believe there was anything good left in man. But what he did believe was that man was kind of like a broken mirror, I guess. Like, it's in pieces on the floor. Good for nothing but the trash. But you can still look hard at the shards and figure out what it should be doing, and in that way, you can see traces of the mirror's creator. So in his biography, there's this interesting part where C.S. Lewis actually says that heartlessness is a worse sin than, say, homosexuality—they're both sin, but at least one points to a twisted version of what we were made for, which is love. At least someone could look at those broken shards and maybe come to the conclusion that there is a God who made us creatures for love, and therefore learn something about Him, even if we mucked it up. But with a heartless person? Lewis seems to condemn that person as not human at all, because there's no trace, not even a broken trace, of what humans are meant to be in them.

I just thought that was interesting. Because it makes you realize that mankind's story isn't "bad to good." It's more like, "good, to bad, back to good." Which is why any of us recognizes the need for God at all.

Anyway! Sorry for the ramble, I know you didn't ask for it 😅 I hope that gets you started? I also hope you blog about what you think of any of Lewis' stuff; I can't wait to read it. He's near and dear to me, so I like the thought of "sharing" his writing with anyone. Thank you'

#C.S. Lewis #Lewis #Lewisian #Inklings #Narnia #asked #answered #recommendations #books #reading #the ransom trilogy #abolition of man

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theinnerunderrain · 2 years

Text

The Doctor's Envy [Yan!Dottore x Saintess!Reader]

Warnings: Yandere themes, religious themes, non-consensual touching, mentions of experiments and medical interests, brief description of blood and injury.

Word count: 1.8k+

“This is always the way envy works. It never starts with the object of envy. It starts with a shake of the fist at the skies, a frustration with the gods, a deep feeling of injustice. Why has God not given me what I want, I need, I deserve?" Genesis 4:1-16

Dottore never regarded himself as being an avid devotee towards the Deities, or at least not the benevolent Gods that worshippers commonly describe in an attempt to entice someone to embrace their small religious community, a way to manipulate and maneuver their new little member. It's even laughable considering they operated almost like an occult, simply a high-end one with the support of the Tsaritsa.

If God truly cared for his subjects, then why was he willing to abandon them in the most difficult times of their lives? Through wars and battles, God never blinked at the eye of those who died within the field. Not even once at the innocent lives lost within the chaos.

Yet, he couldn't resist but just let himself meander aimlessly through the garden of the cathedral, wondering if Pantalone was the one in charge of budgeting such a lavish courtyard. He was to blame for his blunder since he was curious and desired to see the Saintess that Capitano passionately adored. Indulging in such meaningless philosophy and romanticising a creature other than himself, he intended to demonstrate to himself that Capitano was nothing more than a simple fool. Then again, he supposed all the Harbingers were nothing but babbling fouls that were ambitious for the wrong paths. But perhaps it's better to dream than rather not dream at all.

Yet, he was disproved by his own convictions.

Dottore had only seen a brief glimpse of the enormous portrait of you that was displayed in the Tsaritsa palace and had only overheard such brief descriptions of your beauty. Many would describe you as a beautiful entity, capable of even out shining God's favourite angel, although he wouldn't be surprised if God's true treasure was actually you.

But he instantly recognized that it was you who was lounging on the marble bench and basking in the warm sunlight. He shifted against the column, obscuring his silhouette from your hindsight. Your eyes were sealed, your eyelids were veiled in thick lashes, and your lips were stained with a reddish colour, curved into a small smile. He would presume that you were praying since your gloved fingers were clasped together, positioned right under your chin.

Even though Dottore has inevitably never encountered an angel in person, he was convinced that you would be a true representation of a heavenly deity, an angel in disguise that freely roams the surface of the earth.

Your physique was so brilliant and lovely that he swore he could have seen white light emanating from it, surrounding the air around you with divine power.

When Capitano's voice could be heard pleading with you to return because it was growing late, his astonishment was swiftly dispelled. It was just five minutes after eight; even a child would grumble about just how early it was, so perhaps the Captain was indeed insane. And yet, seeming unworried, you did nothing but get up from your bench and make your way to the cathedral's entrance.

Such a subservient creature.

Dottore felt a sense of resentment toward the rest of his co-workers for attaining something he wanted but had yet to achieve. Despite the fact that he had only received a brief glance of you, he was aware of how much he desired you.

No, maybe desire isn't the right choice of word.

He was merely curious, an aching curiosity to see what the color of your blood may be. Or if your body was truly constructed of internal organs like the rest of humanity, or if your insides were nothing but a hollowed shell similar to that of the Balladeer's?

His desire to comprehend your truths was being swallowed by the hunger that was gradually gnawing away at his mind. The aching to strap you down onto an examination table, and slowly unravel all of your mystery.

He was eager to know what makes you squirm.

He longed to see the Divine nature of your capabilities, wanted to know how exactly you were able to heal with some precise control.

He desire to study them all.

Your voice.

Your skin.

Your hair.

All of you.

The white dove sprawled still upon the grass, its wings frantically fluttering in a desperate attempt to breathe. One of its wings was punctured by a sharp arrow that ripped through its flesh severely enough for the arrow to be visible on the other side of the flap. Its wound erupted with blood, staining its white feather red.

You nearly acknowledged the bird was beautiful despite its torturous demeanor. It reminded you of a fallen anger that has been shot down by an archer, now lying helplessly within the field of baffle. The palms of your hands smack against each other, jolting you out of your reverie and reminding you that treating the bird is your primary concern. You can't blindly gawk at it and expect it to heal itself.

"I'm sorry about this."

You whispered before extracting the arrow from its wings, leading it to howl in anguish. You slowly extended your hands in front of you, drawing them close to the bird. You shut your ears and muttered a few silent prayers before directing the elemental power to flow through your palm, a brilliant blue light shining as the bird's wound started to mend. The bird's injured wing started to flap after you withdrew your hand from it. This time, relief overcame the agony. You carefully picked up the bird, lifted it into the air, and threw it, marveling as it soared into the air, flapping its wings with obvious excitement.

"The bird was already condemned to perish, why bother saving it?"

Startled, you spun around at the new source of voice, catching a glimpse of a rather tall man with blue hair and a large beak mask that concealed his pale face. The only visible portion of his face were his lips, pressed in a small smile as if he had been observing you for quite some time.

You've certainly never seen him before.

"All lives are precious. We must feel obligated to help those in need even if their expiry date is near."

As you spoke, you raised yourself off the ground and brushed your hands against your knees in an attempt to wipe off the dirt. Your white dress is encrusted with dirt, and you fully anticipate Capitano giving you a heavy scolding when you return sporting a dirty dress after all the effort the Sisters went through to mend together a dress.

"Though I beg to differ, that is a perspective worth considering."

As he neared, you could glimpse more of the man's mask after he had finished responding and had begun to steadily approach you. He was wearing a mask that was somewhat reminiscent of the plague doctors you may well have read about in history books. Perhaps seeing him was an omnious sign to your fate. Although within one of his palms, he held a bow, a hunting bow it seemed. Hunting was prominent within the Cathedral's grounds. You couldn't help it but wonder if the man was the sole reason for the bird's injury.

It was a rather foreboding treat to the eyes, you couldn't even peer into his eyes since they were strictly concealed.

"On top of that, it appeared as though you were having a blast peering at the bloodied bird."

Your hands shot up to your face as soon as he said those words, your fingers stroking your lips to see if you were actually grinning, but your lips were merely curved in a rather neutral stance. Were you really smiling?

"Ah, my apologies. I was simply making a bad joke."

The man laughs at your terrified expression, thoroughly enjoying the way your face briefly altered to one of terror before it was immediately covered up by that facade you always wore. It was rather fascinating to see you switch up so fast, and he even wondered if your personality had always been like that. Or if it was a result of your journey within the capital?

A calm, smiling expression.

You cough somewhat uncomfortably, trying to cover up your prior failure at self-retention. Dottore wasn't exaggerating when he stated to have seen the way your lips flickered into a faint smile as you gazed at the bird, even though it seemed to be an accidental reflex. He didn't want to utterly humiliate you at the first meeting, so he opted to remain silent. Nevertheless, given your status as a Saintess, it was a somewhat surprising attitude. It was surprising to see that a Saintess like yourself has a few loose screws within your head , although you don't seem to be aware of it.

He didn't expect you to be somewhat twisted, perhaps it's a change of characteristics due to your time spent within the capital? Or was it Capitano's torment? Was it the effect of lingering around Columbina? Perhaps even Childe?

He wouldn't be so surprised considering how humans change so fast, like a river streaming down a cliff, unconscious but still a change. He supposed that your personality had to eventually shift if your need for survival was prominent.

"What brings you here today, Doctor?"

Ah, so you can guess that he works in that field; you probably picked it up from his mask.

What an observant being.

Dottore leans into you unexpectedly as he watches you stagger back in disbelief at his sudden action. He stretched out to grasp a thread of your hair with gloved hands, fumbling with the tiny hairs as if he were attempting to feel their general texture, rather soft he must admit. Dottore kissed a small section of your hair before you had a chance to react and push his hands away. You could then see his long tongue quickly swoop through his lips and as if to taste a small portion of your hair, leaving a small stain of saliva to stick to your hair. With a smear of blossom crimson on your cheeks, you hurriedly slammed your hands into his chest and shoved him aside leading him to tumble back, but not enough to hit the ground or anything.

How endearing.

A tiny scowl formed on your lips, and you inhaled deeply as the façade you once maintained started to disappear from your face as fury started to take over. His laughter simply made you angrier, and you turned to leave when you overheard it, ready to report him to Capitano, but his voice managed to stop you.

"I apologise, my dear. Actually, I'm here to assist you with a physical examination, by the order of the Tsaritsa."

A medical examination? Given that everyone was aware of the conflicts between spiritual healing and scientific medicine, that doesn't seem like it would be very courteous of the Tsaritsa. They are both incredibly distinct from one another and very proud of their individual accomplishments. You've never thought a doctor from that sort of sanction would even step foot within the cathedral unless they absolutely had to.

The person standing in front of you, however, disproves that assertion given that he was inside the Cathedral and was conversing with a prominent figure within its walls. He had a rather careless attitude as it seems like he doesn't care much for the Cathedral's rules or the respect for one's privacy.

"I'll now give my formal introduction."

He remarked, extending his hand between the two of you, gesturing for you to take it. You hesitated accepting it because you didn't want any involvement with this strange man. Your regular schooling at the cathedral, though, compels you to take his hands and press your palm into his, before he raises them to his brow. He clasped your hands as though he were praying, and you had a feeling that it wasn't something he did on a daily basis. As if he was mocking your entire being, laughing at your pitiful soul. Although his eyes were concealed by the mask, you could practically feel them scorching through the piece of metal, burning into your skull as he peers up at you with a mischievous smile.

"To the Fatui Harbingers, I am referred to as il Dottore, the doctor. I consider it a privilege to become acquainted with you."

Jealousy is both reasonable and belongs to reasonable men, while envy is base and belongs to the base, for the one makes himself get good things by jealousy, while the other does not allow his neighbour to have them through envy (Aristotle).

#yandere #yandere genshin au #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #dottore #yandere dottore #the doctor #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin impact x reader #gensgin impact #yandere x reader #yandere doctor #saintess

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