#We Thy Monsters

[late-tothe-party-07]

So update on that monster fic that probably no one knows about,

Yeah ignore most of the other posts on it I was in the writer insanity zone 💀

Everythings back to normal humans but I am gonna try incorporating the mc's shadow twin ability, but instead of it being a super power its gonna be more of like all her survivor's guilt, trauma and negative thoughts all rolled into one tormenting ghost/metaphor.

[mishy-mashy]

Obviously, I can't ignore the funny pics of AFO either

AFO getting insulted for the first time on the web be like:

He looks like his fingers would be flying across a keyboard if he were on the internet.

AFO went and made himself into a troll face, man.

"MOMMY LOOK AT WHAT I FOUND!"

YEAH BOY, YOU LOOK REAL WEIRD BUT YEAH! RAISE YOUR TROPHY

MA! AN ALLIGATOR GOT INTO THE TRAILER AGAIN!

AFO's that arm being pummeled into the ground.

[All Might Doesn't Know How to Fucking Hold Back Against Kids: Case 47]

Feat. Accidentally twink-ifying AFO to the point he's become a twig

NEWS: AFO fails again, "Desperately trying to play it cool", All Might says, for at least the 3rd time in this fight

AFO tried being so cool with the "Shigaraki—my other self" and failed instantly. Livestreamed all over the world. Ugggghhh. The embarrassmenttt

Proceeds to split his face to smile, saying "I'll have to do the legwork myself".

As if to them, he didn't just go "Watch me do this. Come now, my other self. ........ I'll have to do it myself."

"Look how cool I am" *fails* "I CAN DO IT PROPERLY I MEAN IT"

He flip-flopped so hard here that if it were me, I'd give All Might the finishing blow to end me of my embarrassment. The world saw it. My life is over

AFO's ego is just so big and he's trying so hard to play it cool and keep his pride in his fight.

As if he hasn't been running around half-naked in a cape this whole time

[theboykingsmichaelsword]

outsider pov was severely underutilized in spn like it's actually criminal the more you think abt it

[cadygroves]

I started watching the new Monster High series and I like it! It's entertaining and not as bad as I thought. My problem is with some characters, like Clawdeen; even though I don't mind her new personality and her being half human, I remember Clawdeen being this fashionable diva and ahhh. :( It just feels like a completely different character. Same with Cleo, she was the popular girl, she was kinda mean but on the inside she loved her friends. Now she's not popular and she's kinda silly - I'm all for having these kinds of characters... but we already had them! Like Howleen: a great example of someone who felt like the shadow of her sister, who wanted to be popular and, she was a little silly.

And Lagoona :`( Lagoona is unrecognisable. She looks completely different, if it weren't for her name I would've thought it was a new character. She also acts completely different. She was the mom friend, she was helpful and understanding; now she's uh, I don't know lol. They went for that "creepy but cute" thing I guess.

In conclusion, I like the new series, but it makes me feel sad to see what they did to some of the classic characters.

[vaguelydefinedshapes]

phone? dead

charger? no

i am all alone with naught but my laptop and my wild berry tea monster rehab,,,

[bihansthot]

Title: Hiss

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Messmer x AMAB!Tarnished, Messmer x Male Reader

Warnings: anal sex, the snakes are involved, size difference, barebacking

Author’s Notes: soooo here we are, I wasn’t planning to write a Messmer fic, at least not yet but this idea got stuck in my head and I acted on it, no I will not apologize for using the snakes I’m a shameless monster lover and they’re part of Messmer. Hopefully it’s ok? It’s my first time writing for a fandom other than Mortal Kombat in like 6 or 7 years, I hope Messmer is in character enough. As always likes, comments and reblogs are always, always appreciated!! Enjoy lovelies!

A loud hiss echoes off the barren stone walls, you’re unsure if the noise came from you or from the serpents intertwined in your beloved’s flesh. You bite back a laughably pitiful whimper as you impale yourself on your lover’s pretty cock, Messmer is big, too big and you know it but it doesn’t stop you from trying. Your ass is slick from the demigod’s earlier ministrations and the viscous elixir you had coated his member with before attempting to seat yourself in his lap. Your fingernails bite into the empyrean’s flesh as you sink lower, pain jolting through your back as Messmer fills you deeper than you ever dared to when you played with yourself in the past.

“For one so bereft of light, thy body truly is a work of art,” Messmer praises as his large, strong hands grip your slender hips, stilling your body from swallowing any more of his length.

You feel guilty as you were only able to accommodate a fraction of the demigod’s oozing cock, but with the size difference you both knew it was impossible, Messmer’s body was at least twice the size of your frail vessel. Your cock jumps at Messmer’s honeyed words and you can’t help but moan, “ah my lord,” as you wiggle and writhe in his grip eager to further please the warlord. Reluctantly Messmer relents and lets you take the lead, your heels dig into the cold stone of Messmer’s throne as you slowly lift and lower yourself, trying to find a rhythm to please you both. You let out a breathy cry as the empyrean’s thick cock brushes against your prostate with each movement. You wrap your arms around Messmer’s shoulders, mindful of the little winged serpents hovering there peering at the two of you curiously, as you use his body for leverage to bounce more vehemently.

“Gah,” Messmer groans as more of your slick, tight ass envelopes his huge cock, his mouth hanging slack for a moment before he pushes your hair back from your sweat speckled face.

Your cries climb higher and higher in octave as you keep your steady pace, precum drooling from your dainty, bouncing cock. You wished Messmer would stroke it while you rode him, no doubt you would be able to cum from just the demigod’s cock alone but the pressure would feel so good. You squeal loudly as cold scales wrap around your hot cock and constrict, blinking your eyes open in confusion you look down to see one of the mischievous serpents coiled around your length. “Me-Messmer!” You choke on your words as the empyrean stills your hips and begins to buck up into your tight, silken heat. The serpent slithers in circles around your sensitive length as Messmer assaults your prostate and there’s nothing you can do, your useless legs turn to jelly as you cling to the giant pitifully. You huff and whine and shriek and whimper before big, fat tears gather in your eyes as the serpent’s tongue dances over your sensitive tip.

“Willst thou cum for me my little mongrel,” Messmer taunts you knowing full well you have no choice in the matter, that you were too far gone and all it would take was a little more of the empyrean’s embrace.

“Ah! My lord! Oh Messmer, Messmer!” You wail as your body freezes in place after a particularly pleasurable jolt to your prostate. You hurdle over the edge as the serpent coils tighter, milking your cock as cum erupts from the tip spilling all over the bright red serpent and splashing onto Messmer’s taught stomach. You hear the demigod’s breath hitch as your ass clamps around his cock, spasming wildly as you ride out your orgasm.

“Such a good little culver,” Messmer whispers as he leans down to press his lips to yours to quiet your shouts and cries as he continues to fuck you through your release.

Every inch of you is trembling and alight as you drown in Messmer’s fiery kiss, your pitiful noises mitigated by the empyrean’s demanding lips. Tears still fell freely from your eyes as overstimulation short circuit your brain. You cling helplessly to Messmer as the demigod keeps fucking your dripping hole. You break the kiss to yell as the repeated assault on your prostate pushes you past reason, “please my lord, please,” you plead with Messmer urging him to finish and stop overwhelming your frail body.

“Hush,” he commands as his grip on your hips becomes almost painful as he shifts slightly and pounds into you marveling at your ability to take so much of him. It doesn’t take much long before Messmer’s pace stutters and falters, he squeezes his golden eye shut in pleasure as a cry escapes his lips. His huge body shutters in pleasure as you feel warmth spilling into your tight ass and spreading throughout your tired orifice.

You gasp and tremble as his cum fills you to the brim forcing another pitiful little splotch of cum from your spent cock. You gasp and pant as you try and come down from your high as Messmer slides out and pulls your body flush to his to hold you in his embrace. Your vision is blurry from pleasure and tears as you rest your head just below the rather naughty serpent as it finally releases your cock from its coils, it flits its tongue at you, seemingly pleased with itself. You allow yourself to close your eyes and bask in the heat radiating from Messmer’s body as you coo contently.

The empyrean hums happily as his fingers card through your hair as his cock softens. The two of you stay there for what seems like ages, neither of you in any rush to move, Miquella would have to wait, you would rather watch the world burn than leave your lover’s side. Burn it would, those stripped of the Grace of Gold shall all meet death, in the embrace of Messmer's flame.

[v-e-l-v-e-t-g-o-l-d-m-i-n-e]

Louis + his ways of saying "I love you" to Lestat

"Is this an offer, Louis? Have you come back to me, as lovers say?" His eyes darkened and he looked away from me. "I'm not mocking you, Louis," I said. "You've come back to me, Lestat," he said evenly, looking at me again. "When I heard the first whispers of you at Dracula's Daughter, I felt something that I thought was gone forever --" He paused. - The Vampire Lestat

There was so much I wanted to say to him, to ask him. Yet I couldn’t find the words really, or a way to begin. He had always had so many questions; and now he had his answers, more answers perhaps than he could ever have wanted; and what had this done to his soul? Stupidly I stared at him. How perfect he seemed to me as he stood there waiting with such kindness and such patience. And then, like a fool, I came out with it. “Do you love me now?” I asked. He smiled; oh, it was excruciating to see his face soften and brighten simultaneously when he smiled. “Yes,” he said. - Queen of the Damned

He grew reflective again and very sad. It almost hurt me to look at him. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, but that would only have made him furious. "I love you," he said softly. I was amazed. "You're always looking for a way to triumph," he continued. "You never give in. But there is no way to triumph. This is purgatory we're in, you and I. All we can be is thankful that it isn't actually hell." - The Tale of the Body Thief

I came towards him, planted my hands on his desk and looked into his face. "I was so sure you would understand this. And by the way, I wasn't born a monster! I was a born a mortal child, the same as you. Stronger than you! More will to live than you! That was cruel of you to say." "I know. It was wrong. Sometimes you frighten me so badly I hurl sticks and stones at you. It's foolish. I'm glad to see you, though I dread admitting it. I shiver at the thought that you might have really brought an end to yourself in the desert! I can't bear the thought of existence now without you! You infuriate me! Why don't you laugh at me? You've done it before." - The Tale of the Body Thief

"Have you suffered in my absence?" I asked, looking back at the altar. Very soberly he answered, "It was pure hell." I didn't reply. "Each risk you take hurts me," he said. "But that is my concern and my fault." "Why do you love me?" I asked. "You know, you've always known. I wish I could be you. I wish I could know the joy you know all the time." "And the pain, you want that as well?" "Your pain?" He smiled. "Certainly. I'll take your brand of pain anytime, as they say." - The Tale of the Body Thief

I stopped. I put my arm around him. I held him close to me. “I’m Lestat,” I said in a low voice. “Your Lestat. I’m the same Lestat you’ve always known, and no matter how I’m changed, I’m still that same being.” “I know,” he said warmly. I kissed him. I pressed my lips to his and I held this kiss for a long silent moment. And then I gave in to a silent wave of feeling, and I took him in my arms. I held him tight against me. I felt his unmistakable silken skin, his soft shining black hair. I heard the blood throbbing in him, and time dissolved, and it seemed I was in some old and secret place, some warm tropical grotto we’d once shared, ours alone in some way, with the scent of sweet olive blossoms and the whisper of moist breeze. “I love you,” I whispered. In a low intimate voice, he answered: “My heart is yours.” - Prince Lestat

I couldn’t believe I’d heard right. I stared at him as helplessly as I had in the hallway of the townhouse when I’d first seen him, trying to grasp what he had said. He leaned close to me, and he put his hand on my arm. “ ‘Wither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people’; and because I have no other god and never will, you shall be my god.” - Prince Lestat and The Realms of Atlantis

When I was finally led down the stairs, Louis came with me. In the darkened passage before my resting place, he embraced me and held tight to me, his lips pressed to my ear. I was aware of my hands moving over his hair, embracing his neck, drawing him ever closer, in a way I had never done in our long years in New Orleans. We joined in the posture of lovers, brothers, fathers with sons. “I love you with my whole soul, and I will always love you,” he confided to me. “You are my life. I have hated you for that and love you now so much that you’ve been my instructor in loving. And believe me when I say you will survive this, and that you must for all of us. You will survive because you always have and you always will.” - Blood Communion

[sunnie-angel]

Part 4: The Plan

part 3 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: one step back, one step forward in this dance with jason’s warring desires for intimacy and distance

tags: swearing, UST, light angst

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.7k

a/n: i’ve never experienced an american thanksgiving so all of my knowledge of it comes from pop culture. this is basically the last of my ‘set up’ chapters, so plot + relationship development is going to really hit their strides starting from here.

Jason is learning to live with the thousand pangs of guilt that go hand in hand with his determination to be your friend and only your friend. Guilt churns his stomach so often that it fades to just another background distraction. Every time you stiffen up when he pulls back, every time you try to catch your face before the disappointment can shine through, he sees it all. He should keep his distance, stop reeling you in close before drawing back unexpectedly, but he can’t quite manage it.

A more recent encounter is still seared into his brain. It plays behind his eyelids as he swims laps around the pool with Rei.

The two of you had been heading to the dinner two blocks off of campus after Duvall’s class, the fiery light of the sunset colouring the worn paths across the quad. Class had been predictably… painful. Reading it for his own purposes or for a group of students to discuss, Frankenstein has always struck a raw nerve. I am thy creature and I will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king, if thou wilt also perform thy part, which thou owest me. Seen and made raw by a woman and her monster years in the past, and isn’t that just the rub? The world spins, new generations live and die and live again to be just as disappointing to the men that created them. Jason’s heart had ached behind his sternum and even the usual balm of your chatter had taunted him with everything he denies himself. He’d made all the right noises, kept his head down and hands jammed into his pockets as the two of you had finally made it to the diner.

“God I almost lost it when what’s-his-name in business started talking.” You’d snorted as you’d opened up your menu, plastic pages clinging together. “Like is it really so hard to have an ounce of empathy? We should start a list of worst takes because that had to be a top five. Jay?” Jason must not have been playing his part well enough because now you’re looking at him, too silent, too caught up on the long stale nickname. “What are you thinking Jay, because I’m thinking pancakes for dinner.” All he could think of is the one and only Dick took him out for pancakes. Begrudgingly. And how it had ended with Dick storming out, suddenly excited about hanging out with the Titans, only to come back disappointed when he had realized he was Jason’s only ride.

“Don’t.” It had come out low and mean, lobbed through gritted teeth like something hot and vicious. Jason had watched it hit you, the way you’d leaned back from the table and hunched your shoulders closer. “Just don’t call me that, yeah?” It had taken concentrated effort on his part to breathe, mimic loosening the tension in his body, to look smaller and non-threatening.

“Oh. Okay, Jason.” Silence had stretched out between the two of you, an almost tangible distance. The words to explain, to apologize and smooth things over had stuck in his throat. The fading light had caught your face for a moment, your face crumpling in hurt before shuttering closed. Your blank face was burned into his mind’s eye just as clearly as all the ways he had not repaired things between you.

Jason surfaces, water sluicing off of his shoulders, before going back under for another stroke. His body takes over the pattern of striking and breathing while his mind returns to the diner. There’s a small animal part at the back of his mind that’s wary of the water. Keeps a small part of him on the look out for any tinges of green to the liquid in the irrational fear that he might also come out of this body of water changed. Actually taking Rei up on his offer to go swimming was in some ways a punishment for Jason, adrenaline thrumming through his veins until his muscles flagged from exhaustion.

Rei is waiting for him at the entrance to the gym, water bottle half empty and lid still unscrewed. His glasses keep sliding down his still damp face but he grins at Jason anyway.

“You sure you’re not looking for a spot on the swim team? Because I’m sure the team captain would get the coaches to make an exception for you.”

Re-shouldering his duffel, Jason asks, “Now why would he do that?”

“I’d do it because I want one last trophy for the relay team.” Rei says wryly.

“No shit?”

“Yeah, I don’t really advertise it because I’ve been doing it for so long that I keep forgetting new people don’t already know I swim. But if you want a spot you’re in. You lapped me like what, four times?”

“Five,” Jason says sheepishly. “Not much of a team player, so I’m gonna have to turn you down.”

“Fair enough,” Rei shrugs. “But I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You probably dodged a bullet though, the coaches are hard asses about not drinking before meets.”

“Yeah, speakin’ of drinkin’, what the hell was in those drinks you made the first night.”

Rei laughs and the conversation takes a more lighthearted turn as they head across campus to the student union. It doesn’t take much to keep the conversation going so Jason has time to turn over Rei’s invitation over in his head. Jason would never have been able to accept — spackling over his extensive scarring for even just today had been a pain — but it had given him hope that maybe even after all his mishaps with you, that he might still be achieving ‘normal’.

Wednesday comes by and Jason makes up his mind to show up the weekly study session. With the Thanksgiving weekend coming up he’s got less work than ever but an even stronger desire not to be alone. Campus has emptied out in anticipation of the long weekend, the student union almost echoingly empty. Lina and Rei are already taking up a bench, sickeningly affectionate and dodging the balled up paper scraps Danika is tossing at them. You sit next to her, rolling your eyes at her antics then egging her on whenever Lina swoops in to leave another lipstick stain on Rei’s cheeks. He hesitates before committing to the seat at the end of the table nearest to you. The fresh loukoumades burning a hole in his bag will have to be shield and apology enough.

He’s nearly there, three feet out from his target, when the sound of a chair getting angrily out of the way diverts his attention. Will is dragging his bike through the field of chairs, cursing up a storm that has even Jason with all of his years in Gotham taken aback. Quite possibly its the most words Jason’s heard Will say out loud in the scarce months he’s known the man. The incongruity of the scene with who Will generally is as a person sends most of table into nervous half laughter.

“Will? Will what’s wrong? The biking parking finally full or something?” You ask, disbelieving.

“What the fuck does it look like?” He snarls, before throwing the bike to the ground in frustration.

“Hey—“

“Will, what happened?” Lina cuts Jason off, uncurling herself from around Rei and leaning forward. Her eyes are wide and searching, and in Jason’s opinion, not suspicious enough for the uncharacteristic rage on Will’s face.

“Some motherfucking cock sucking moron nearly ran me off the sidewalk in their piece of shit gas guzzler. That’s what happened.” He goes to throw himself into the seat next to you but Jason beats him to it, larger frame boxing him out. Throwing Jason an annoyed glance, Will slouches into the only seat left. He brandishes his coat clad arm in front of Lina and Rei, still thrumming with pent up energy.

“Look what they did!” He exclaims.

“I don’t think any of the bandaids in my bag are big enough for that scrape.” Rei says regretfully.

“What— never mind the scrape, look what they did to my coat!” He pulls the fabric tight across his wrist, shoving it under their noses. Rei and Lina give each other confused looks over Will’s head.

“There’s a lose thread?” Questions Danika.

“Yes! Thank you, yes! That idiotic jackass made me scrape up my Loro Piana jacket, do you know how much this costs?!”

“So,” Danika interjects, “won’t your family just buy you a new one and write this off for taxes or something?”

“That’s not— okay that piece of shit not only destroyed my jacket and put my life at risk but he’s also polluting with his mid-life crisis pollutant puker. You know there’s a reason Gotham ranks worst in pollution for cities in New Jersey? It’s thanks to people like that who don’t care that their cars are leaking oil and going knocking people — who are just trying to be nice to the environment — off of their bikes when they were just minding their own—“

“Report it to the police or campus security then.” Jason interrupts, before Will can get into the rant he’s building up steam for. “You got close enough to see the oil leaking, you probably saw the license plate too.” Jason pulls the loukoumades out of his bag and slides them over to you, keeping eye contact with Will the whole while. Will breaks eye contact first, pulling his perfectly intact black wool coat tighter around him before shoving his hands deep in the pockets. You’ve cracked open the container and let out a hum of delight. Will’s eyes dart to the table.

“Didn’t get it. How was I supposed to know that one minute I’d be riding along, and then the next I’d be traumatized for life by some inconsiderate brute?” He sulks. And oh, yeah, not everyone had grown up with B and all of his lessons on paying attention to your environment for evidence.

“Yeah, speaking of trauma, who’s got plans for thanksgiving yet?” Danika asks, mirth and humour her weapon against the atmosphere.

A sharp elbow knocks once into Jason’s ribs. He turns to look down at you, hoping your bid for attention won’t turn out to be disappointing. You meet his gaze with cheeks stuffed full of fried dough and honeyed syrup, eyes narrowed and considering.

“They’re not pancakes, but I thought you’d like ‘em anyway.” Jason says.

You swallow, before beginning to speak in a low voice, letting the flow of conversation continue around the two of you undisturbed. “If this is an apology, there better be more from where that came from.” Your small lopsided smile is sincere, but it doesn’t quite erase the image of your blank face from the dinner from his memory. Nodding, he goes to pull out the second Tupperware container that he’d had the foresight to prepare and you begin to lick the leftover syrup from your fingers. Jason’s vision narrows down to your thumb and forefinger, glistening in the fluorescent lights. He could swear his heart skips a beat when your pink tongue flicks out, his breathing certifiably irregular when you start to suck on your fingers. The image of your lips shiny from syrup will probably be engraved on his second headstone as the cause of death.

“—son, Jason.” Danika’s voice, high pitched and insistent, breaks the moment. He’d be embarrassed at tuning out his situational awareness if he wasn’t also scrambling to answer her half-heard question.

“No plans for me. My family and I aren’t really in a ‘gatherings and gratitude’ place right now.”

“Whoops, we’ll add your family to the off-limits list. What do you usually do then?”

Your phone starts buzzing, and you swear under your breath as you navigate sticky fingers and tight jean pockets.

“I just make a fancier meal than normal, watch the parade on the tv. Not much to it.” He replies off-handedly. He doesn’t mention the extra patrols he’ll do, in anticipation of one of the Rogues deciding to make a splash across holiday headlines.

“Sorry, I’ve got to answer this.” And already you’re trying to climb over Jason to get out from the booth and away from the table. It brings your face closer to his than it’s ever been and Jason would be trying to pin a name to the exact shade of your eyes if it wasn’t for the worry on your face. The nearly empty building means that you don’t wander far from the group. You pace as you listen to whoever is on the phone and play with the charm on your necklace. Will catches on to Jason’s line of sight and rolls his eyes, still sulking in his chair.

“So there’s a whole list, yeah? Things you don’t talk about?” Jason asks, trying to distract himself.

“Oh I wouldn’t call it anything so official.” Lina dismisses.

“No but we totally should!” Fires back Danika. “It would make things sooo much less awkward if Jason knew not to bring up just how much money Will’s rolling in, or the fact that Rei hates talking about the team right before a swim meet, or that when she,” and here Danika lowers her voice and nods in your direction, “plays with her necklace on a phone call fifty bucks says it’s someone from her family.”

“Got it, no askin’ her about the secret phone calls.” Jason says with a tight smile.

“Oh it’s nothing super secret.” Danika leans back into the corner and waves a lazy hand. “Just that most of them were dead set against her doing English instead of some ‘useful degree’ like pre-med or engineering. Don’t know why though, I don’t think’ I’ve ever met anyone that hates calculus more.”

But Jason, Jason thinks he does know why. Puts together the little pieces of your past you’d entrusted to his scarred hands and looks to the shared weft of your past. Looks at a girl whose family had scraped and fought to make a life untouched by poverty in a city that doesn’t easily forgive, and knows that it took luck and bone wearying effort to make it out of the Alley’s clutches. He looks at the girl who is used to being told her opinions don’t matter and yet believing in them anyway, who has put together a path leading right to her dreams even if the detours take her back to the place her family was happy to leave behind. Jason looks around the table at these fresh faced kids in their $6000 jackets and knows that none of them understand the constant, cavernous fear that all of the little luxuries they take for granted will suddenly disappear like morning fog. Jason knows the kind of courage it takes to push past that dogged fear and refuse the path your family pushes you down in order to achieve loftier goals.

The conversation has moved past him now, wrapped in his reverie. Rei and Danika have devolved into the kind of hardline negotiation Jason would have expected to see between seasoned lawyers rather than undergrads.

“C’mon Danika, I know you want a Pinterest worthy friends-giving but it’s just not going to work out this year.” Rei chides. “There’s just no time that’s gonna work for all of us.”

“Yes but it’s our last year when we’re all for sure going to be in the same place for the holiday weekend!”

“Look, we should all be free the Friday after the long weekend. We’ll do another night out, me and Lina will host the pre, and it’ll be our version of friends-giving. I’ll even make turkey themed cocktails if you want.”

“Gross! Fine, fine.” Danika most definitely does not whine. “But make them pumpkin pie themed cocktails instead.”

Jason’s got half an ear on the conversation, but continues to study you as long as his input isn’t needed. You sigh and seem to deflate as your call ends.

“So boys, are you ready to see the damage Rei can do when he’s got his full bar cart with him?” Lina asks, coy as anything. “I’m sure he’ll be able to make something that will even get you dancing, Jason.”

You shuffle around Jason, trying to squirm back into your bench seat. For a brief moment, your thighs bracket his.

“If that’s the plan,” Jason breathes out shakily.

Part 5

[forthechubbies]

Love Thy Husband

Kingpin's Son!Choi San x Chubby arranged wife! Reader

I:Love Thy Husband- II: Bring Me Home

3 month later …In the heart of Namhae-eup..

Average as any other day, from the time you open your eyes and step out your room, your husband is missing, drowning you in eerily silent yet you feel relieved not having to be under his watchful eye. Bathtime it is then…Where does he go this early ? It’s 7:00am.

You fell into deep thought as the steam filled the bathroom and the running water acted as soft background ambience. Did he eat before he left?… Why do I care if he’s eaten it’s not like he gives a hot damn about me….the only time I get to leave is for “outings”. I’m arm candy, luckily, my veil isn’t great when it comes to eye contact and keeping conversation.

Your “wedding” came to mind~

The abrupt chime of the wedding bells sealed your doom. It was time to go. The heartbreaking realization felt like a jab in your chest, weakening you to your knees. In that moment, the hot tears streaming down your cheeks were impossible to hold back.

Your sorrowful whimpering brought your mother to your side, whispering words of encouragement and warmth. Yet, her comforting words only deepened your sadness within.

Your husband's mother even came over peacefully, expressing remorse and apologizing for her husband's actions. She knew she wasn't your ally right now, but she assured you, "San is a good boy. He wouldn't lay a hand on a woman if he knows what's good for him."

The sudden, warm grip beneath your arm startled you into stillness. "Are you alright?" His deep voice sent shivers racing up your spine. "We need to go." His voice started to irritate you, you know its not his fault he’s just following his monster of a father’s orders but you can’t help blaming him in some way out of bitterness since he appears to be content in his father’s choice.

“ Yn? I can carry you-“ San’s sweet offer was met with violence as you swing your gloved hand almost whacking him if not to his quick reflexing, his eyes shift from his large hand caging your tiny one back to your “face.”

San's brow furrows, his expression a mix of concern and self-reproach. This wasn’t his fault—he’s in the same boat as you, and yet he’s been nothing but a perfect gentleman since the moment you met just hours ago. And now, you dare to raise your hand towards him, or at least try to.

A flicker of amusement dances in his eyes—cute. With a delicate pinch, he catches the edge of your veil, playfully flicking it over your face. The harsh pink of your teary eyes and the soft curve of your nose tug at his heartstrings, though his expression remains stoic.

You gasp, clutching his arms as he effortlessly pulls you to your feet once more. "We have to go now, I’m sorry to rush you, sweetheart." His words come out in gentle, hesitant beats, each pause a reminder that English isn’t his first language. You wonder, fleetingly, what was.

Before you can respond, San steals a glance at his watch, then swiftly scoops you into his strong arms, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing at all.

You crossed your eyes, annoyed by the warmth in your cheeks where your memory began to fade. He’s strong..I will give him that..

…

The bubbles melt away your worries expect for one. I mean it’s not really a problem if I think he’s cute. He is my “ hubby”….after all and I’m not even sure of what I saw . The small creaking in the floorboards was drowned by your soft music and humming. Meanwhile on the another side of the walls, San grunts as his back hits the top of the stairs,

Exhausted, your husband collapsed on the stairs, struggling to catch his breath. "Damn it, I really need to piss!" he groaned, throwing his head back in frustration, only to smack it against the step above.

"Ack! That hurt!" San hissed, rubbing the back of his head as irritation bubbled to the surface. Every little thing around him seemed to get under his skin, as if the entire world was conspiring to push him over the edge. "Why is everything so damn aggravating?" he muttered, the annoyance palpable in his voice.

In a surge of pure, unbridled fury, San slammed his fists into the wall, leaving a couple of gaping holes behind. The force of his anger also tore a large chunk of the railing from its mount, sending it crashing to the floor.

He stood there for a moment, seething, as his father's words echoed in his mind like a relentless drumbeat—orders and expectations suffocating him like a noose. Nothing will ever be good enough for him.

San's tie was the final straw, its constriction around his neck driving him to the edge. With a frustrated growl, he yanked the fabric down, as if tearing it away could somehow relieve the tension coiled inside him.

"When that girl bears you a son, you'll understand, my boy," his father had said, his voice dripping with a sincerity that only fueled San's anger. The words, meant to console, did nothing but fan the flames of his rage.

The unsettling sensation of being watched prickled at San, prompting him to glance over his shoulder. His eyes locked onto his wife, who was timidly peeking around the corner. The sight of his bare chest, revealed in his frustration, brought a flush to her cheeks as she took in his stunning yet indecent display.

In the blink of an eye, she vanished, the bathroom door slamming shut behind her with a force that echoed through the hall. Poor San stood there, his hand dropping awkwardly after she blatantly ignored his small, hesitant wave.

Rude, perhaps, or maybe she was frightened—of what, he couldn't fathom. His gaze drifted to the wall, and suddenly, his breath hitched. The sight before him was shocking: the rail piece he had been holding now lay on the floor, a victim of his accidental brute strength. "Oh," he muttered, his eyes wide with realization, "Oops."

Meanwhile, on the other side of the bathroom door, you felt trapped. His broad frame was blocking your only exit, and he was standing so close to the stairs that you knew there was no easy escape. Your room was upstairs, and you silently cursed yourself for choosing to use this bathroom instead of the one safely tucked away in your own space.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you finally summoned the courage to swing the door open. But as it creaked on its hinges, there stood San, closer than you anticipated, his presence filling the doorway.

San, his expression softened with concern, the tension between you palpable yet oddly comforting. His presence was overwhelming, but not in a suffocating way. It was as though the air around him carried a warmth that you hadn't noticed before, a gentle calm that contrasted sharply with the turmoil in your chest.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," San's voice was deep and soothing, a hint of apology lingering in his tone. He stepped back slightly, giving you the space you so desperately craved yet somehow didn't want anymore. His gaze never left yours, filled with an unexpected tenderness that made your heart flutter.

You exhaled, your shoulders relaxing slightly as you took in his sincere expression. "It's okay," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just… wasn't expecting anyone."

A kitty.He looks like a cat. It feels like it’s been years since you’ve seen his face, his sharp eyes and glare give off a harsh aura despite his words and soft tone. Was it on purpose? You found it difficult to keep eye contact without getting flushed from his eyes but looking down at his exposed chest was a whole other problem. His whole handsome face is the problem, honestly.

"You're even cuter without your heels," he muttered, a sly grin playing on his lips as he took in how your smaller frame matched up to his. His eyes, though mischievous, stayed fixed on your face, a feigned act of respect, even as he relished how the flimsy white cloth clung to your plush curves, teasing him mercilessly. " I have to use the bathroom." He nods behind you.

You moved, swiftly out the way gripping your towel, allowing him to waltz into the bathroom.

He knows you like the difference between you and his bathtub, but this is the first time he's walked straight into the refreshing cloud you left behind. The sweet scent matched your soft body as you brushed past him, turning to close the door, but you were already long gone upstairs.

You gripped your towel tightly as you slid down the door, your knees weak beneath you. The embarrassment of being caught in such a state burned in your cheeks.He's even more handsome now than he was three months ago. It looks like he's been working out... I can see the definition of his muscles beneath his shirt.

The small scene replays in your mind, of him towering over you, yet you notice how he steps back, careful not to startle you. He's got this undeniable sass about him.. You notice his large hands resting on his hips and realize that his dress shoes have a slight heel, which clicks softly against the wooden floor.

Your heart skipped a beat hearing San's door close. You decided you definitely needed more fresh air, leading you down the road you're on now.

While you were enjoying yourself, you didn’t notice that you had triggered the house security alarm. Luckily, your husband was so sleepy that it went unnoticed for a full hour.

To make matters worse it wasn't your husband who discovered the alarm but his elders deciding on a surprise visit.

"San. San! Yah! Choi SAN!"

Talk about a rude awaking, Hongjoong Hyung sat in a lounging chair in the corner of the room, his left foot was extended before he crossed his legs. A strong jolt shook the bed, awaking up your tired hubby.

San groaned before looking at his elder who was simply unimpressed. "Hyung?.." He stretched his remaining remnants of his drowsiness. " What are you doing here?" He hung his head low as he spoke from tiredness? Or respect?

Seonghwa’s voice crashed like a thunderclap, delivering the news the elders had long dreaded, since they were notified about the house alarm that screamed through the home. "She’s gone." His deep voice words tore through the now thick, pregnant silence between Hongjoong and San. San’s chest tightened; enduring one scolding was enough.

Yet, only a fool would believe that Hongjoong's shadow was far behind.

"She's gone?!" San shot up from his bed, fully dressed despite his rumpled state, his eyes wide with disbelief. 'Are you serious?!' In an instant, he was out the door, leaping over furniture in his desperate rush to the front. The elders' voices called after him-

"He forgot his shoes," Seonghwa muttered, as he and Hongjoong stood outside, watching San disappear from sight, completely clueless about where he was headed.

Hongjoong clicked his teeth before stating." He forgot his common sense too. He's just running in a direction. Ah shi-" He then quickly raised his phone to his ear. " Yunho. We need a inner search party keep it under wraps from Choi senior. Clear?"

A firm 'Yes, Sir' ended the conversation as the line went dead immediately after.

…

To be continued..

[16ozicedcoffee]

“Citizens,” said Enjolras, “what that man did is frightful, what I have done is horrible. He killed, therefore I killed him. I had to do it, because insurrection must have its discipline. Assassination is even more of a crime here than elsewhere; we are under the eyes of the Revolution, we are the priests of the Republic, we are the victims of duty, and must not be possible to slander our combat. I have, therefore, tried that man, and condemned him to death. As for myself, constrained as I am to do what I have done, and yet abhorring it, I have judged myself also, and you shall soon see to what I have condemned myself.” Those who listened to him shuddered.

“We will share thy fate,” cried Combeferre.

“So be it,” replied Enjolras. “One word more. In executing this man, I have obeyed necessity; but necessity is a monster of the old world, necessity’s name is Fatality. Now, the law of progress is, that monsters shall disappear before the angels, and that Fatality shall vanish before Fraternity. It is a bad moment to pronounce the word love. No matter, I do pronounce it. And I glorify it. Love, the future is thine. Death, I make use of thee, but I hate thee. Citizens, in the future there will be neither darkness nor thunderbolts; neither ferocious ignorance, nor bloody retaliation. As there will be no more Satan, there will be no more Michael. In the future no one will kill any one else, the earth will beam with radiance, the human race will love. The day will come, citizens, when all will be concord, harmony, light, joy and life; it will come, and it is in order that it may come that we are about to die.”

Enjolras ceased. His virgin lips closed; and he remained for some time standing on the spot where he had shed blood, in marble immobility. His staring eye caused those about him to speak in low tones.

Jean Prouvaire and Combeferre pressed each other’s hands silently, and, leaning against each other in an angle of the barricade, they watched with an admiration in which there was some compassion, that grave young man, executioner and priest, composed of light, like crystal, and also of rock.

[late-tothe-party-07]

*runs in *

UPDATE ON THE MONSTER FIC AND HOW MONSTERS EXIST IN THE FIRST PLACE:

✨LOBSTERS ✨

GOODBYE

[immediatebreakfast]

Now that the bloofer lady is awake, and on the hunt already despite being a few days old, it's time to not only talk about what thy vampire represents, but also what do the victim of the vampire mean in the narrative.

So, the question is, why does Lucy as the bloofer lady drinks from children specifically? We have seen vampires prefer human adults to feed on, and with the case of Dracula and the Weird Sisters the use of babies seem to be their last resource in a heavily guarded country side. For this there are two explanations in the narrative, one watsonian held by Lucy's characterization and her themes as a being trapped inbetween youth and adulthood, and one doylist based on Bram Stoker's prejudice plus victorian england prejudice against certain groups of people that were seen as undesirables by large society.

In the doylist manner we need to see how the Count, the Weird Sisters, and now the Bloofer lady are portrayed through the british narrative (despite Bram Stoker being irish). They are described as "dangerous" and "sensual" with hard descriptions on their faces, and with quite the emphasis on the horrors they commit against children in particular. This is not to say that their actions are horrifying because they are, but seeing that the more emphasised target is kids, one has to look beyond what is in the text to see the underlined intentions with it.

And blood libel is the answer from common folklore, and the aceptable target to refer to. The vampire represents the Other, the evil yet exotic east, and the anxiety around the antisemitic caricature of the anti christian jewish person coming to polute england and use white christian children' blood in their evil unknown jewish rituals. Which is why Lucy, now as the bloofer lady, starts attacking the children first, as a symbol to declare her as a new "beast of the night", and to underline how now she is away from god's light just like victorians thought their jewish communities were. Acceptable targets turned into the Other representing the monster that affirmed the already held bigotry of the victorians.

In the watsonian manner, Lucy died neither as a child nor a proper adult. Never entering adult society as she was infantilized by everyone around until her death, yet wanting to shed the remains of child like innocence from her life. This limbo that makes Lucy's existance as a vampire into an uncanny presence of the night which gives us why she hasn't attacked any adults. It's not that Lucy can't attack adults, is that for her is far easier to lure children since she is the poster image of the kind of the "not adult" girl that children may be curious about, and easier to trust.

Lucy is described as a the perfect victorian girl (not counting her inner turmoil around her whole life), so she probably already knows how to entertain children since the expectation of motherhood was already upon her. The bloofer may not remember who she was before being, but the manners taught to her may still be floating inside her head, instructing her what to do after being seen by a child. Act like a sisterly figure, play with them, ask them to follow you (after all children have to obey) on a walk, be pleasant but not condescending, then bite and feed.

With the one thing in the narrative that indicates that Bloofer Lucy still deserves salvation is the fact that she leaves the children alive, and relatively unharmed save the bite wounds on their necks.

[gaymurdersalad]

dave. we really heckin care about you. sending a weighted blanket and some snacks of thy choice.

> Huh? Wuh? Askers, I’m fine, I assure ya!

> Sure I might’ve met god while trippin’ balls in that alleyway and sure I mighta puked put whatever remaining guts I had, but I’m all good now, I promise!

> Besides, I got ole Clementine here keepin’ me company… what better remedy than one good look at those enchantin’ blue eyes…? Gah! He’s makin’ me all giddy and shit!

> Yeah, y’all don’t gotta worry about me.

> … Although I wouldn’t deny a kebab, I’m no monster.

[nicolovespancakes]

Thinking about the similarities between...

And

(This is the second post about him I've made in a week's span and I'm a bit concerned-)

But let's explain.

- Demon/Ghost Type

- Acts contrary to true motives (is in reality more selfish and vain than on the surface)

- Will kill most beings standing in the way of their goals.

- Loves being the center of attention.

- Alastor is absolutely a good voice claim for thy Toymaker.

- Both were once human.

- Red/Burgundy Hair.

- Views others as playthings.

- Enjoy controlling those around them. (Alastor and his souls, Jason and his chosen ones or toys.)

- Like childish interests like games or toys. (With VERY high stakes.)

- Multiple physical forms.

- Sharp nails.

- Hide in Shadows.

- Can summon minions of a sort. (Alastor = Summon Demons, Jason = Summon Toys)

- An object of physical weakness. (Alastor's Radio Cane/?, Jason's Music Box)

- Old time-y designs, inferring to dying in previous eras from present tense.

- Asexual/Aromatic.

- Green glowing when angered (Jason's eyes, Alastor's stitched smile)

- Have known rivals that counter in blue (Candy Pop, Vox)

- Dominant personalities, prefer to be in control of any social situations.

- Obvious traits of cruelty, sadism, murder, tampering, etc.

- Charismatic in nature.

- Seen as Monsters. (Accurate.)

____________________________________

Anyway, I just thought that was interesting. The thought came from me imagining Jason singing Alastor's parts in this. (Along with other pastas, like Candy Pop, Nathan The Nobody, Puppeteer, Sally, LJ, etc.):

https://youtube.com/watch?v=_lBnG5CLOmk&si=tZWcM6vILJw1i3Ex

I could definitely see Jason flattering people like this when it thrills him.

Oh, and this one! I think of it as an amber eyed Jason, and then the rough voice is his green eyed white hair form.

https://youtube.com/watch?v=wKfOA9sgfO8&si=I1nh1Ic8LAHqEcJz

- "I've got a game I wanna show you,

If I tell you my name, you'll have to play too.

I've been here for years, biding my time,

Waiting and primed until I could find you.

Just sign on the line and we can be friends,

I'll be here for you until your world ends.

Enjoy all your toys, I will supply-"

- "Come into my world, take a look at me.

I am the nightmare on the dark side of the moon.

I'm your first last resort so call me,

When you need a helping hand.

Play your cards wrong and I'll see you soon."

"And once your hunger has abated,

Don't forget your friend who waited."

============================

Anywho.

That's all.

[endeavorsuckss]

Dabi as Frankenstein quotes

Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful

If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear!

I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel…

It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.

The fallen angle becomes a malignant devil. 

[randomfandommaddness]

Silent Salt is the Founder of the St. Pastry Order Conspiracy

Solidarity- unity of feeling or action, especially among individuals with a common goal, interest, or BELIEF.

Freedom- The power of choice in actions, thoughts, words without hinderance. - Alternatively, the option to choose the greater good for one's self, and/or for another's sake.

vs

Silence- The restriction of actions and words, and the total control of thoughts. Complete obedience even if the actions are wrong. Tyranny.

Three Updates foreshadow the connection:

1 - The First Tower of Sweet Chaos Update

A- Aesthetics:

- The Backdrop Color scheme for the church Matches Silent Salt's color pallet

- The Shadow sister's order is the closest we get to matching outfits

- Silent's current clothes look torn, but their former attire appears to contain a lace-like fabric (Similar to the pastry order's robes) * There appears to be no imagry of Silent anywhere in to order's church. There are three potential reasons for this:

1- Silent DOES appear, but their helmet is removed (They are the praying cookies at the edges)

2- Silent HAD imagery that was removed after their imprisonment. (Reputation is important for religious groups or cults. Heretic imagery is heavily condemned.)

3- Silent REQUESTED no imagery of them to be made and they operated in the shadows of the order. (Most likely)

B- Beliefs:

* The order worships the witches, And Silent was personally baked by them, so... This could be a case of abusing a belief for the sake of control. We have absolutely no idea what the witches would have wanted, but the order's actions actually don't align with the witches. If they did want what the order is preaching, then Silent Salt WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN LOCKED UP. This actually makes the whole Order built on literal pillars of salt. If the truth got out about the founder, then no one would be fooled by it. Cookies with morals would leave enemas forcing the Order's leaders to crack down on rebellion.

* The order believes that cakes and monsters don't have a place in the world (Similar to medieval beliefs that were influenced by Christianity- Beautiful= Good, Ugly=Bad)

- By the destruction of "The World's Order" Pastry was probably referring to the perseverance of cakes and other desserts (Notice how we don't see anything other than cookies in the order proper)

- This is backed up by Red Velvet, saying "And when you meet your Godly creators, ask them. Ask them about your precious 'Order' that decrees pretty Cookies to live, and forsaken, burnt Cakes to be SLAIN!"

- The weapons of the order are specifically made to purge monsters.

* There is LITERALLY a Book of Salt in their Bible's Equivalence, the Quote "...may thy will guide the fork of your humble servant" is an example. (Of course there are more books, like the Books of Butter and Flour, but Salt being mentioned is suspicious.)

C- The Cake Tower Itself:

-According to the Order, and the cookies of darkness, the first cookies were baked in the tower. As for whether or not the five beasts were baked here is up for debate. But it is possible that they were.

-White Lily being involved with the tower and the witch's banquet in of itself is proof that the order connects back to Silent Salt. White Lily becomes Dark Enchantress Cookie by being re-baked. Did anyone ever make the connection to Dark Enchantress having a very demonic design? The very thing someone like the Order would oppose.

It's not just the design though... It's also her goal! Dark Enchantress seeks to overthrow the witches and recreate the world in her image. And destroying the world that the pastry order protects is absolutely against the order's code. With the Order worshipping the witches, Enchantress is obviously their enemy. But the order is also bad for its own reasons.

If Silent Salt did found the St Pastry Order, then it has been around for a very long time. Long enough to shape the cookie world. Just as Christianity shaped Medieval Europe, The Pastry Order shaped the land of Earth Bread. Even without Silent Salt at the helm, their order is carrying on their wishes. As for their wishes, it's to ensure that cookie kind flourishes, while other desserts are deserted. And there's more...

2 - Cookie Run Odyssey (Where things get dark :D)

A- Asthetics (They're getting more convincing)

- The Cookies in black masks are the closest design to Silent by far - Why the masks guys? Something to hide? (Or someone they're referring to?)

- The weapons all carry a very refined astetic, and also a fork symbol.(Silent's soul jam kinda resembles a fork too. Huh)

- The very presence of the missionaries in the Creme Republic. (Silent's design could be a reference to the Templars from the crusades)

B- Beleifs (They carry the ones above here, but lets add some more salt.)

* The Order Believes that Cookies were made to be eaten (White Lily learned that the hard way)

- The first cookies ran away from their creators (They could be referring to the beasts, but that may not be the case)

- The witches are waiting for the cookies to return (So they can fulfill their purpose of desserts)

- Elder Mille-Feuille Stated "The First Oven will open, and all will become one." This could be referring to the baking and consumption of cookies.

C- Goals and Motives shown in the Odyssey

1- They are after the soul jams. As for why, they say that combining the soul jams together will summon the witches. While we don't know if that is true, it may be possible... But I think that the real reason that they want the soul jam is that it was Silent Salt's final order before they were imprisoned. That way, the order could free both them and the other beasts and restore their power. (Of course, they can't say that that would be selfish!)

2- They are NOT working for or with Dark Enchantress Cookie. We do fight the Order in Odyssey, but during the Final battles, they are nowhere to be seen.

3- The order is trying to convert as many cookies to their cause as possible. Since the youth are impressionable, that's a good place to start. Preaching to the desperate is also a good tactic if they wanna get followers. (Yeesh, they're more like a cult than a church. At least the church is optional!)

3 - White Lily's Beast Yeast Update (Trust me, this update is important)

It is within this update where we get introduced to Silent Salt properly, along with the rest of the beasts. We notice that certain areas of Beast Yeast refer to the five. In the Land of Silence- the Salt Flatlands we see a giant cross on the map. A GIANT CROSS. Yep. Defidenty guilty.

Within this update, we are introduced to our first beast Shadow Milk Cookie, Pure Vanilla's polar opposite. Oddly though, Shadow also has a rivalry with White Lily due to Elder Faerie Cookie leaving her the post as Guardian of the Tree. I always thought it was weird that Shadow would target another ancient hero that isn't Pure Vanilla Cookie... Until we consider Silent Salt's stake in all of this. What if this isn't meant to be a three-way fight, but a four-way?

Silent Salt Vs Pure Vanilla Cookie. How would that play out? Let's start with the very fun possibility of exposing the St. Pastry Order as frauds. After all! Pure Vanilla cookie holds the light of truth, so letting such a harmful and dangerous lie run its rounds unchecked would be against what he stands for! Moreover, having Silent Salt paint Pure Vanilla as a heretic would be very in character for them. Pure Vanilla was inspired by Jesus Christ, Who was persecuted Himself! Oh wait... Does this mean that Silent Salt is going to successfully kill Pure Vanilla Cookie?

The Themes of Solidarity, Freedom, Tyranny, Deceit and Truth. Solidarity is defined as unity. It is a special force that the individual can connect too but is also felt by multiple people. I imagine that the original source of the soul jams power is derived from its core aspect:

- Imagination and curiosity are the source of the power of Knowledge

- Will power and motivation are the source of the power of Volition

- Interest is the source for the power of Love

- Action is the source for the power of Change

- Unity is the source for the power of Solidarity

Now, just as the original soul jam before it was split, the power is still fueled by its aspects, but instead the conditions are a little more specific: - Delusion powers Deceit, while Acceptance powers Truth - Lack of will powers Apathy, while strong will powers Resolution - Lack of Care powers Laziness, while immense care powers Passion - Desires for Carnage power destruction, while Desires for Worth Power Creation - Absolute submission powers Silence, While Individuality Powers Freedom.

Now unlike most powers, Solidarity is powered by a group of cookies with a common goal and a feeling and sense of unity. In order for that power to be strong, the connection they share must be strong. Kinda hard to do when everyone believes in completely different things... But what if they didn't? What if all the cookies believed in the same thing strongly? Then the power would flow like the salt in the seas!

However, in order to have a strong belief, you would need a very solid idea. An idea so important that it would be impossible to ignore, doubt, or question... an idea like your makers. Worshipping your creators, creating an empathetic narrative around them... Making it easy to get both mentally and emotionally attached to them, and most importantly: being able to connect to others who do so as well.

It's why the order deems anyone who isn't a cookie as blasphemes. Cookies are a dime a dozen on Earth Bread. But they are also capable of thinking and common sense. Why else was no other dessert chosen to potentially become the order? Other creatures aren't as bright as cookies. And for that reason, cookies are able to be saved, while other desserts are a heresy! Hence why they have to be purged.

If all creatures of Earth Bread share a likeness in the form of cookies, then they have more in common, making it easier to connect with another cookie instead of a cupcake.

When it comes to Silence itself, we are talking about Tryranny. The complete restriction of words and actions. It's all about complete control, even if it's against the will of the victims. ESPECIALLY if it means doing something that will hurt another person. Being constricted isn't going to last forever, and almost always ends in disaster.

Of course, being deemed a "holy being" meant to pass judgement in the name of their creators lets you get away with some messed up stuff. How do you know if they are acting for the cause, or for their own interests? You can't tell, and that's the whole point. Silent Salt is using a so called "Holy Cause" as an excuse to do horrible things to other cookies and desserts. Namely:

- Making everyone believe in a suicidal ideology (.... What do you even call this? Brainwashing?)

- Deeming any critics as Heretics and killing them (Assassination/Murder)

- Using everyone's impressions as a source of power and control (Abuse on a wide scale)

- Going against the witches, all while claiming to work in their name (The worst evil in the world: Hypocrisy)

- Using the set of beliefs that controls everyone to cut down innocent creatures who did nothing wrong. (Mass Genocide)

- Tricking others into killing for the cause as well (They're still guity, but it's not entirely on their heads)

- He probably turned families against each other as well! Mainly over beliefs. (I... I have no words for this. It's too horrible to even imagine.)

Yes. The list of crimes for this cookie is long. I wouldn't even be surprised if they were the evilest of the Beasts.

Now for the million dollar question: How do you beat Silent Salt cookie?

Well, their power comes from unity under their constrictive control, and that control comes from the strong beliefs in the orders followers. So, the only way to beat them, would be to turn everyone against them. More specifically, dividing the order, and getting them to disband somehow. The number one way to do this is by exposing the order to the truth. And it's no stretch to believe that Pure Vanilla himself will be involved with this part.

Just as White Lily beat Shadow Milk with the power of free will (She chose her own option over the two options Shadow gave her), Pure Vanilla is going to use the truth and expose the Pastry order, having them turn on themselves in disarray. With infights and zero control, Beating Silent Salt is just a matter of skill. Of course, you'd have to be pretty convincing to go up against the order's core beliefs. So, what if Pure Vanilla bought the witches into the picture? It would be cool if he could find out the real reason why the cookies were baked the way that they were. Though I'd imagine that Silent would actually turn the order against him at first, get Vanilla killed, then the witches would re-bake pure vanilla cookie in front of the order. That would be super cool! :D

Also, I forgot to add that the St. Pastry Order will probably invade the Fairy Kingdom. Just as Christianity Settled in northern Europe.

Where Silent Salt Is Sown

Living Things can't be Grown.

Small Note: There may be more that I forgot. Feel free to add to the list!