#a fury scorned

[alittlewoozyhere]

My great grandma, Violet Leib. It runs in the family.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

hey have we moved on too quickly from when carlos and oscar collided in miami, then oscar tumbled down like 14 places, then had to pit and then roared out of the pitlane so obviously mad — without saying a single word on the radio — and then proceeded to whip out fastest lap after fastest lap until his team had to tell him to slow down so that he didn’t cause a safety car?

cus i felt like we moved on too quickly from that

[orionchildofhades]

Andrew Minyard, Literature Major ("Hell hath no fury" , "Jean Valjean") getting a PhD just to piss off Aaron so they're both Dr. Minyard is just--

[mikasasrippedtoenail]

Why is the moral dichotomy always placed upon women? Why is it only women that have to be pious and self righteous? Why are women supposed to be kind and nurturing while men are supposed to be intelligent and daring? Why can't women be mischievous and loud? Why can't women be human?

[calehenituse-brainrot]

Symphony

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

With blood, sweat, and tears.

tw: gore and cannibalism

Sometimes, Ron sees how anyone could think of his young master as a God, because who in their right mind would dare to challenge a God but another one of their own? 

Rosalyn's magic circle appeared on the island's surface, glowing red and magnificent as ever, covering the split trunk of the majestic tree like a dome, and right then, Cale descended from the sky like a God, his shirt torn at where his heart was and showed an ugly, distorted scar. Dried blood stains his pale skin and his shirt, and he looks absolutely awful.

"Human!" Raon cried out in relief. "What happened, human?! Where is [Name]?"

They all came to Cale, crowding him and immediately ready to abide by every order that drips from his lips. Cale pointed at the form of the ancient God, of vines and sticks imbued with divinity. "With that thing. He's planning to bring [Name] to the split trunk where he will most likely seal and fuse her with the island."

"What exactly is it?" Beacrox asked quietly, more to himself than to Cale.

But surprisingly enough, Cale turned to him and provided a vague answer, "If my guess is right... It could be her father."

"Her father?" Ron echoed, his eyes widening. "What does that--?"

"What are your orders?" Ron cuts off his son, frowning as he looks at his master. There was no time to sit down and explain the past nor to get a clear perspective on this situation. There are people with magical powers and Whales could turn to Whales. This was the least surprising thing.

When Cale finally spoke, his voice came out commanding and it immediately caused everyone to stood their ground. "[Name] is connected to the vines of that god. There could be a big possibility that she could still be freed from it. We will try to take her from that beast without doing much damage, but that's the best possible scenario. The worst would be destroying that island and the thing that sits atop of it."

Cale, Rosalyn, and Choi Han should have sustained a fatal injury from having the vines penetrating their heart and the moment it was taken out, they should have bled out to death, but they didn't. Instead, the open wound closed and healed quickly. Cale was pretty sure it was because the god's vines were actively healing you, and because your hearts had been connected with the very same vines, Cale, Choi Han, and Rosalyn's wounds were immediately healed.

It meant you wouldn't immediately die upon being detached from the god's vines.

You have a chance for survival.

"Your Highness, when it comes to it, please arrange for your men to do everything they can to destroy that island," Cale said to Withira. "The ancient God that resides in the island has grown weaker with that tree gone and could only focus on keeping the form they have now and keeping [Name] alive."

Withira's eyes widened, a chill running down her spine. There was something mind-boggling about the fact that the island that her predecessors had agreed to let be was going to be destroyed in her hands. She had lived with so many urban stories surrounding this island and now she was going to have it destroyed under her command.

Cale stared at the older woman. "Could you do it?" 

Withira glanced at the island, feeling the weight of the order. Despite how little the island's influence was to the Whale tribe's reign, Withira had grown up hearing all sorts of stories about it. It had become a small legend within their community and was consistently being passed down to calves. However, seeing the ragged looks of Cale and his company, how they looked at her almost desperately for her aid -- Withira couldn't possibly turn their request away just because she held a bit of a sentimental value to that island.

Withira nodded with a determined frown. "Please leave it to me."

Withira jumped back to the water, morphing into her whale form the moment she hit the water. Cale watched as she swam to the island and her men began to crash into the floating island, causing strong tremors to the island, trying their best to tilt the island and make sure it would break into smaller pieces.

Cale turned to Ron and Beacrox along with the kittens. "You will be responsible for evacuating [Name] to a safe distance. The moment we managed to bring her on top of this ship, head back to the continent without us if we took to long."

Ron bowed his head. "Understood, Young Master-nim."

"Raon," Cale called out to the dragon, smiling. Raon's eyes widened and glimmered before he was quickly beside Cale.

The Black Dragon sees something in his human's brown eyes. For months, Cale had been depressed. His light brown eyes would always reflect affection towards him and the others, but Raon sees so clearly that something in him must have died with you when Cale stepped back into the bedroom that day to inform them all of your death. 

Now, it's back alive. His eyes glimmered under the bright sun and the blue sky, determination and hope filling his face. His human looks filled with spirit.

"We'll be bringing [Name] home," Cale said to the dragon, and when he said that, Raon heard how much Cale meant it. To himself or Raon, the Black Dragon wasn't sure. Cale smiled endearingly, "Are you ready?"

Raon nodded, smiling brightly. "Yes!"

Wind gathered around Cale's feet and he flew back to the island, Raon flying beside him and heading towards the ancient god that was fighting Choi Han. The wind has never felt so suffocating and yet so freeing to Cale. He flew with the determination that he would not come back without you and he recognized that he might be so desperate that he could screw all of this up and he would never be able to see you again. You're so close to him, so close that he could hold you once more.

Choi Han was slicing every single branch that came after him and every single one grew rapidly as if it was the head of a Hydra. Rosalyn's magic circle was constantly shooting out fire after fire toward the lump of branches that was carrying you, her eyes rapidly looking through every nook and cranny of the beast to see if there was any indication of a weak spot that wasn't anywhere near where you were. Her keen eyes seemed to be moving at a speed that Cale himself couldn't comprehend, analyzing every weakness she could take advantage of.

'Give me something!' Rosalyn thought, her teeth gritting in restlessness as she looked for an opening within the god's physical form, watching it drag itself along with you on top back to the hollowed gigantic tree in the middle of the island. It felt like once it reached the tree, they would lose you forever. Rosalyn wasn't going to sit around and see whether her assumptions are true or not.

The god's physical form was similar to the silhouette of an octopus crawling on land, dragging his body along the ground with you on its back. When one of the "tendrils" of the god was raised and showed the tiniest opening under it, Rosalyn conjured another magic circle and aimed it towards that opening, blowing up that bit of the arm and watched with a horrified expression as that part of the god's form was blown up to bits and rotten dead bodies spilled out to the ground. The smell of rotten and burnt corpses immediately filled her senses and she gagged, feeling like her gut was going to come up to her throat at the horrid smell.

Choi Han paused for a moment and looked down at the branches that he had cut down, his face pale as he realized the multiple faces etched onto them.

"Cale-nim!" Choi Han yelled to Cale who was up in the air with Raon. "It's not wood! They're dead bodies!"

Cale could see the dozens of rotten bodies that were on the ground and how they seemed to melt into the ground, turning into mounds of vegetation and leaving the scent of rotten bodies despite how they have turned into plants.  

'No wonder you weren't able to control them,' the priestess said with disgust. 'That god's form is made up of his worshippers. It could also be why they could still survive for so long despite all their followers being dead.'

It made sense now why the graves were empty. The god had fused all the physical bodies of his late followers to form his new physical form. It was perhaps his last attempt to earn some sense of recognition as a deity before being forgotten forever, or at least until the beliefs of enough people began to manifest him again. 

Cale flew down next to Rosalyn and Choi Han immediately followed to listen to their orders. Cale looked at the vegetation by his feet and he pitied them, to know that the god these people have loved dearly was able to do this, to disrupt the peace of dead people and desecrate their resting place, without feeling an ounce of hesitancy for their selfish reason. This god did not deserve worship.

"Your orders?" Rosalyn asked, beads of sweat falling down her temple as she panted.

"Destroy the island," Cale said with a frown. "We'll be wasting our time if we only work on killing that god physically. Leave nothing behind. That god could move because this island preserved their images. A god is no good when they have nothing."

"Raon," Cale turned to the Black Dragon. "Relay my words to Her Highness Withira: We plan to destroy this island for good. We need the Whale tribe to make sure every piece sinks or destroyed."

Without many words other than an affirmative "I got it", Raon took off to search for Withira. Cale turned to Choi Han and Rosalyn, placing his hands on their shoulders. "Our job is to separate [Name] from that god. Choi Han, you will be our offense. Miss Rosalyn, our defense."

"Yes!" Both nodded, determined frowns on their faces.

Cale offered his hand to Rosalyn and Rosalyn grinned, jumping into Cale's arms before wind gathered around his feet and they flew off while Choi Han easily scaled the god's form, heading towards where you were. Cale stepped next to where you were laying and set Rosalyn down. The god began to let out a deafening scream, pausing on moving around and the branches began to thrash as if disgusted and angry they were on top of him.

"Han!" Cale yelled and Choi Han brought his sword to immediately slice the vines that were connected to your heart. Upon being broken off from you, the god's form suddenly began to morph and formed hands to grab at their ankles.

Choi Han cut down the hands and grabbed Rosalyn before jumping off from the god meanwhile Cale grabbed you, hugging you close to him before he mustered all his energy to summon the wind to his feet, and Choi Han led themselves back to where Ron was waiting.

Ron didn't wait for Cale to step onto the boat. He extended his arms out to hold your warm body, his breath shaky as he finally had you in his arms. There was a moment where he simply held you, his head tilted to lean to yours. For the first time in his life full of blood and violence, Ron uttered a prayer of relief that no blood was shed.

Thank God.

Ron let his lips curl down into a small smile, setting you down gently on the floorboards before he took off his coat and handing it to Beacrox to fold so Ron could check on your vitals. Beacrox slipped Ron's folded suit jacket under your head, both of them watching the vines connected to your heart shrivel up into what looked like the bones of an arm, a radius and an ulna hanging by while the rest of the hand and fingers must be inside your chest.

Cale assumed it had been one of the corpses' arm that had been morphed into vines.

Once Cale deemed that you were safe, he flew towards where Withira was and watched as the whales around the island began to slam themselves into the floating island, causing the god to scream and begin to have their form thrash all around the island and stab at the whales. 

"MY DAUGHTER!" the god screamed, their voice similar to your father's voice that Cale had heard, confirming his suspicions. 

"GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER!" the god continued to scream, their voice loud enough to disrupt the wind and water similar to what a shock wave does, pushing them all back as thousands of voices began to cry and scream along. It sounded like hell

"Pull back!" Withira screamed out to her people, her hands covering her ears.

'Do you think I can do this without dying?' Cale thought to the Fire of Destruction, dark clouds gathering on top of the floating island while the god was thrashing around. The dark clouds that were gathering were more than usual, menacing and bundled up in thick lumps that seemed closer to reach.

'If you do, it'll be one hell of a story to tell,' the Fire of Destruction says with a small chuckle as Cale takes a deep breath, and blood begins to drip from his nostrils.

"Human?" Raon called, alarmed at the sheer amount of power that seemed to be emanating from Cale's small body.

Rosalyn looked up at Cale in the air before she realized her hair was standing up, red tresses rising into the air as if she was electrocuted. She looked around, seeing that everyone was looking at each other in confusion as they looked at each other's hair.

"We have to get away!" Rosalyn screamed, alarming everyone. "We have to get away or we'll get hit by the lightning!"

Withira looked up at Cale before she turned around, looking back at her men. "Let's go!"

Archie began to swim away, dragging the boat behind him. Raon flew up to where Cale was, seeing that he wasn't only bleeding from his nose but his mouth and ears as well. "Human!"

"Raon," Cale says, his arms slowly extending toward the dark cloud. "You'll have my back, won't you?"

Raon stared at Cale with his big eyes, almost tearing up. His voice shakes when he begins to speak, "Y-Yes, you can count on me! I am the M-Mighty Raon Miru!"

"Good." 

For a moment, the sky was a serene expanse canvas of a bleak gray, filled with Cale's dark thunderclouds. A speckle of red float near the island. Cale looking down towards the life that moves underneath his space and it seemed like everything was in slow motion. He sees Withira, crying out for her whales, Jack swimming away from the island, the life that stood at the boat he pulls, and the plethora of life in the sea that swam around from a safe distance.

The air stilled around him as he exhaled.

The quiet before the storm.

They first saw the hundreds of jagged streaks of rosegold split the sky open, each one a bolt that was a testament to Cale's raw, incandescent Ancient Power. Each bolt struck down and began to dance together in wild, erratic patterns, crisscrossing the firmament continuously, one after another. For a moment it seemed like the sun had approached them, their eyes blinded and burned by them.

A symphony of chaos began almost immediately. Thunderous roars erupt, screams that were so primal tearing through the heavens as if the Earth was begging for mercy. The air became alive and they felt it by the way their skin prickles and their hairs rising. The god below the dancing flashes screamed, seeking help from their daughter, from their fellow divine beings, and was unfortunately turned away the moment his voice drowned between the roars of a mere human's power.

The kittens hid by your shoulders as you lay still on the boat, wanting to protect you despite their fears. It was the first time they saw Cale use an enormous amount of power to this extent and they feared over the fact that they could lose him in exchange for you. Archie positioned his body to rise from the water's surface and let his body be hit by the shock wave, protecting the people on the boat. Ron held you down to the floorboards to make sure you wouldn't slip away.

Cale felt the first raindrop fall before it came heavy and fast, the accumulation of water vapor in his clouds. He coughs up blood, his heart squeezing in his chest and Cale almost feels like falling. He could faintly hear Raon's cries and the way the Dragon was cuddling up to his chest. Cale hugs the small dragon, his eyes nearly closing. Both of them were drenched in the heavy rain.

"Human, stop!" Raon cried out. "T-that's too much!"

Cale's eyes were barely open but he managed to look down, seeing how the island was mostly black, singed off. The smell of rotten corpses reminded him of his previous world. He felt his ear becoming wet. His vision was blurring.

He bit his tongue.

'Cale, stop!' The Fire of Destruction called out, but Cale did not heed the orders of the voices. 

Each raindrop fell, illuminated by the constant flashes of the prettiest rosegold, glistening like diamonds before they hit the waters. His powers sway together in a disorganized ballet, the sky being his canvas to show off his untamed Ancient Power. His powers were the textbook definition of how the power of nature's beauty and destruction could coexist. He was terrifying and mesmerizing.

Soon, as suddenly as it all began, the storm moved on. The lighting fades, the thunder finally retreats, and the sky falls silent once more. Cale's eyes finally closed and he couldn't even slip into a fall because Raon was by his side, holding onto him and immediately teleporting both of them back to the ship, where they all await him.

Withira looked towards the ship, her ears still ringing. She looked back to where the island used to be, seeing only bits of the island floating around along with heaps of rotten corpses. She has never seen Cale's powers to this extent. The memory of those hundreds of flashes of lightning lingers in her head, etched into her mind like a series of vivid, electrifying dreams. 

In the aftermath, the clouds finally scattered and the sky returned to its tranquil blue.

"Check if anything of that beast survives," Withira says to one of her men before she turned back into a human and jumped into the boat to check on everyone. She sees that you and Cale were laid down on the floorboards, Cale's face and his sides drenched in blood. "Are they okay?" 

"She's okay," Ron says softly, checking your vitals once more to make sure he's not hallucinating from adrenaline. He looked at Beacrox who was checking on Cale and Beacrox nodded. "He's fine... Surprisingly."

Rosalyn kneeled beside Ron, holding your hand and lifting it to her lips. She closed her eyes before tears slowly gathered in her eyes as she recalled the harsh life you had to endure, fueled with relief that you're now here and alive. "I'm so glad..."

Choi Han smiled, sitting criss-crossed next to Cale's body as Archie began to swim back towards the continent. Raon curled himself under Cale's arm, closing his eyes and bumping his nose into Cale's palm. For the first time in months, everyone felt lighter. The breeze of the ocean, the sea spraying at them, and the sounds of the whales swimming back have never felt so freeing.

Rosalyn looked down before she let out a soft laugh. "I think... I think this is the first time we have the two of them knocked out like this."

Choi Han looked at her in confusion before he laughed, realizing that she was right. Usually, when Cale was unconscious due to overexerting himself, you'll take over and lead, and vice versa. Now, with both of you unable to lead them, they all feel a bit aimless.

"I'm glad I have my sister back," Rosalyn whispered, sighing as she laid down next to you on the floorboards, holding your hand.

Beacrox let a small smile slip, closing his eyes and finding himself feeling the same as the great Archmage.

You stood in a space, feeling the wind blowing your hair while the image of your father standing a few feet away from you. He looked older than you recalled he was supposed to be. His hair was longer, the wrinkles on his face deeper, and his eyes seemed to reflect the melancholy of someone who had lost everything.

"Why are you here?" You asked him softly, tilting your head. This was supposed to be your memories and you don't recall seeing your father age like this because he had gone missing the day your mother's funeral was held.

"I... don't know," your father mumbled. "I just wanted to see you one more time. Try again."

You stilled once you finally recognized his voice. It finally clicked why the voice sounded so familiar. "You... You're the voice that's been talking to me for months."

"I am," your father confirmed.

"H-How?!" You exclaimed, coming up to him and nearly falling to your knees when you could touch him. "I-I can touch you."

Your father reached for you, his arms wrapped tightly around you. For so long, you have been wandering in some transcendental realm and watching your life play out over and over again as if it were some kind of sickening exposure therapy to all the things that have happened to your life. John had faded a long time ago and you have been alone without being able to feel any warmth at all. This warmth came from someone who had attributed to your suffering, and dear God, it feels so relieving.

"I'm getting weaker," your father murmured. "It's time for me to retire."

You placed your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"You've gained so many people who knows and loves you," he continued, cupping your cheeks before you slapped his hands away. "You're perfect."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" You spat at him, looking at him with wide eyes. 

"You have to continue this for me, [Name]," he continued on, looking at you expectantly. "There are so many memories of people within me. They can't just die with me. They need to go on."

"What are you saying?" You asked him, confused and slightly flabbergasted at his words. Memories? He was dying?

"When I came to this world, I was confused," he began. "Just like you. I don't age and I... I don't know. Those people, they started believing I was something divine."

"You tricked those people," you concluded with your face pale. 

Your father shakes his head. "I did not! They chose me!"

"And now I choose you," he murmured, his hand coming up and he pushed his hand through your chest and you let out a gag, shocked at how he could easily pierce through your chest. To make matters worse, you can physically feel him grasping at your heart and you hated how you could suddenly feel your heart pumping your blood.

You let out a strangled groan, something intangible from your father's hands streaming into your heart. Your heart was beginning a violent drum, each throb was a jolt that physically hurt you, aches that radiated to your ribs and the rhythm made you grimace with every pulse. There is no reprieve, no steady cadence to catch—just relentless, piercing strikes. Your heart was beating like a dancer that steps on broken glass with every step, agony with every breath.

Your world blurs, your sight and hearing fading into a haze of pain. Each pulse of your heart echoes throughout your body like a hammer blow that reverberates into your bones, shaking your core. The only thing that left your lips was the language of endless torment, each beat a cry, and each pause a breathless gasp.

Your heartbeat was a relentless reminder of your mortal state. Pain blossoms with each irregular thump, spreading through the chest like wildfire. You are not born for this divinity. You are not meant for this.

Yet, in this painful symphony, there is a desperate, fierce will—a heart that, despite the pain, refuses to surrender, fighting on with every agonizing beat. 

"You don't have any fucking right--!"

You let out a shrill scream, grabbing at your father's wrinkly face and dug your nails into his skin. He screamed loudly, the sound ringing your ears. You almost gag when your finger dug into his eyeball before you solidified your courage and immediately push your hands further, letting out a pained scream when you could feel his eye sockets, his blood dripping to your hands and going down into your arm. 

He grasped at your heart, squeezing it painfully and your screams echoed through the empty space. You pulled yourself away from him, screaming as you feel each vein and tendon of your heart being ripped from its place, and before you knew it, you lay on your back, a bleeding, gaping hole in your chest where your heart was supposed to be. Without the heart that has been pulsing torment into your body, you could finally breathe properly. 

Your father opens his mouth, his cheeks ripping before he swallows your heart whole into him. He swallowed it down in a painful gulp, seemingly waiting for something and when that something did not come, he looked betrayed. Furious.

Before you could get up, your father pinned you down and his hands clawed at your chest, your skin ripping under his sharp nails and you cried out, feeling your skin ripped layer by layer until your ribs showed. "Bare yourself to me! Give unto me!"

You reached out to his face again, nails digging into his skin and ripping his face, the same way he had ripped your chest open. You dug your fingers into where his eye socket was, making sure your grip was strong and ripped him away as hard as you can off of you. He rolled around like an animal kicked and you used the moment to stand up again.

Without your heart, you feel alive.

You panted, watching his form lunge at you, his eyes crazed. You ducked almost immediately and took a step to the side, grabbing his arm and immediately twisting it with your whole body. Once he was down, you placed your heel into his neck, stomping on it until you could hear a horrifying crack. You keep his neck under your heel as you twist his arm with a force that makes the sky shudder. The pain in his eyes is a mirror of the anguish he had inflicted on you. 

You twist it until you could hear the crack, screaming out as you moved your heel to his shoulder, keeping his shoulder in place while you began to pull at his arm until it was torn off of his shoulder. You threw away the arm, panting as the blood fell onto your face and your eyes, mingling with your sweat and tears. 

The god shook, letting out a pained scream as he held onto his shoulder. He slowly got up, watching you stumble after using most of your energy to tear his arm apart. He watched you, realizing that standing before him was a human that was the epitome of resilience.

You panted, your chest left a bleeding, gaping hole. Your chest was ripped by his nails, raw as your flesh bled and some of the tissues dangled. Some of your ribs showed, your flesh hanging onto it. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with hatred and betrayal.

When he finally approached you, there was something that changed. You did not dance around his claws and blows. You let yourself be maimed. Your nails grasp at whatever you can of him, scratching and tearing at his skin like an animal that had been cornered. Your bodies twist and writhe, a brutal dance of rage and betrayal. Your nails find purchase in his flesh, tearing through the divine facade to the vulnerable core beneath. Each rip is a catharsis, a reclamation of every piece of your spirit that he tried to rob of you. He retaliates, his hands gripping you, rending skin and sinew in a desperate bid to subdue you.

A god cannot subdue you, much less your father.

He was no longer both in your eyes.

You could feel it. His powers wane with every shuddering breath, every wound you inflict. Pain and spite fuel you -- fuck love, fuck faith, and fuck these fucking gods. Each slash of your nails is a declaration that you will no longer be bound to the past, to what doesn't matter, to these fucking people.

You finally toppled on top of him, your nails brutally digging into his chest. His screams of torment did not deter your goal. In fact, it is the symphony of your triumph. You ripped every layer of his flesh and once you felt his ribs, you grabbed one after another and broke it with brute strength. His beating heart lay bare before you and you grinned.

"H-hell..." He muttered, laying helplessly there as you grasped at his heart. "T-this is hell..."

You stayed quiet, tearing his chest open with one hand and the other ripping his heart out.

You sat on top of the corpse of the man you knew once as your father, holding his heart in your hands.

Your nails dug into it and once you tore it open, you found a single dianthus flower, withered and its petals bathed in blood.

[beif0ngs]

There are people who actually need me, and are counting on me...!! If it’s for the sake of those people, I would even turn into a demon!!

[gleafer]

The Conjurer: she has Hell in the palm of her hand.

New OC comic dropping on my Patreon SOOOOON! I’m telling you, there’s nothing but mayhem happening in 2024 for my saucy pigeons.

(Come on in! The water is fiiiiiine!)

[pipartuuli]

Kloktober 2023 Day 7 - Missing AOTD scene

...

They'd let him get too close. They'd been so focused on Nathan's injuries - serious injuries, enough to have downed the vocalist - that none of Dethklok had noticed one of Salacia's fanatical devotees creeping close, machete in hand, raising it in preparation to strike--!

CRACK!

The would-be assassin, sporting a new fist-sized hole in the center mass of his torso courtesy of the buckshot that had ripped its way through him, collapsed onto the snow with a soft thud, dead. The four still-conscious members of Dethklok wheeled around to determine the source of the gunshot. There on the ridge were two familiar figures: Nathan's mother and father. Rose, her entire five-foot-two frame trembling with maternal rage, still held a double barreled shotgun leveled, ready to fire another round if their attacker dared to show any residual signs of life.

Over the cacophony of the battle raging behind them, the band could just make out her battlecry: "Not my baby you don't, you bastard!"

...

Would have LOVED to see the parents in the final battle! Could totally see them all cresting the ridge, holding various makeshift weapons. They might not always be the best parents or easiest to get along with, but no one - NO ONE - touches their babies, dammit!!

[comicsiswild]

Batman (2016) #16

[diana-andraste]

Helen Adam, 1950s-1964

Remember how I warned you When you're praying too late

[good-beanswrites]

I remember seeing a fanart on Twitter of Mahiru and Shidou jumping Kazui after they found out his crime. Can you do a fic of them beating his ass after finding out his crime

RIP Kazui sdfasdf -- thank you for the request pal!! (I assume you mean the cheating theory and not homophobic 06 09 LMAO) Mikoto is always down to stir things up, though it took a while to picture what Mahiru would be driven to. In the name of love I think she'd become a force to be reckoned with 👏👏👏 I hope you enjoy >:3

Some occupants of Milgram are excellent at lying. They hide a great many things, and pull a great many poker faces. Other occupants are the very worst at it. They wear their heart on their sleeve, for better or worse. Kazui was one of the excellent ones. Mahiru was not. 

When Muu asked if he understood any of the celebrity news they were discussing at dinner, he convinced her that he knew everyone they’d mentioned with a grin. When Mahiru told Fuuta his hair looked “perfectly stylish” after he tried cutting it himself, she got a much rougher reception as he saw right through her.

When Es declared Kazui forgiven “despite his infidelity,” he had maintained the perfect expression to hide the fact that they were a bit off. When Mahiru waved her fingers and told Kazui nothing was wrong, he could plainly see there was bitterness underneath her words. 

He couldn't fathom what he'd done to upset her – they'd had pleasant conversations during meals, and played games in the common area. The pair never spoke about it, though; there was no need to make her any more angry. Kazui had nearly forgotten about it by the time Es disappeared. 

Mikoto proved a slightly better liar, but Kazui caught some odd expressions from him as well. They were smoking in silence together when there was a knock at the door. He answered with his cigarette still resting between his teeth. He was surprised to find Mahiru glaring up at him.

She drew herself up, appearing taller and more intimidating than usual. There was a fire in her eyes he hadn’t experienced before. “In the name of true love –!” she cried. She squeezed her eyes shut and wound her arm back. Kazui looked at her quizzically. It wasn’t as if she was going to slap anyone. 

She slapped him. Hard.

The force knocked the cigarette from his lips and sent him coughing on the smoke. Suddenly Mikoto was behind him, holding his arms in place. 

“Woo! He’s all yours, Mappi!”

Seeing the sudden turn of events, Shidou leapt in to help. He tried to wrench Kazui away by his right arm, but Mikoto held fast to his left. He didn't particularly enjoy being the subject of their tug-of-rope. His legs stumbled between them, falling a bit to one knee. He was left sputtering for breath, pinned between them and facing a fierce Mahiru. He didn't know when she and Mikoto planned all this, and his mind was spinning too fast to think too hard on it.

Kazui looked frantically to her, but her rage was rapidly dulling. She slowly returned to looking exactly 154 cm short. Her mouth twisted into a wobbly frown. “W-what do I do?”

“Eh? You said you wanted to teach him a lesson! Let's go, throw some punches! A few kicks!” 

She covered his face with her hands. “I've never hit anyone before!”

“But, you just did?” Mikoto adjusted his hold. 

“Not like that!”

Shidou bristled. “Why is she hitting anyone?”

Reminded of her reasons, Mahiru uncovered her face. “Kazui Mukuhara – this is what you get! This is what you get for being a dirty, rotten, cheater!” She tried again, bringing her arm back. The movement seemed to pain her more than anything.

He was met with another stinging slap, despite Shidou’s protests. Kazui gasped for air, finally catching his breath now that the smoke had cleared from his lungs. His hair had fallen in front of his eyes.

“We know what you did,” Mahiru said. “Oh, we know everything.”

Mikoto made a sound of agreement from behind. “It’s pretty fucked up, comforting Shidou about loosing his wife like that, while you’re a cheater yourself.”

Kazui opened his mouth, but Mahiru interrupted.

“I don’t want to hear any excuses! Es may have forgiven you, but in the name of true love, I’m going to punish you all the same!”

Although Mikoto was stronger than Kazui had given him credit for, he didn't have the muscle to completely hold him. Kazui pulled himself from the grip, grabbing Mahiru’s wrist as she swung for him again. Shidou took a step back, as the situation fell under control.

Kazui smiled gently. “You don’t need to punish anybody. Es didn’t get the full story.” He released her.

“Oh yeah?” came her incredulous reply. She lifted her fists as if preparing for a brawl, but she had one of the worst forms he'd ever seen. She bounced on the balls of her feet, brandishing her fists. She looked like she was going to start crying.

“Mahiru, I didn’t cheat on my wife.”

“Oh thank god.” She dropped her fists. 

Mikoto raised an eyebrow, either from the turn of events, or he was annoyed at how effortlessly Kazui had escaped him. “There was no other woman?”

He let out a deep laugh. “Not at all.”

“Oh, I just knew it!” Mahiru leapt forward to hug him. 

“If you knew it, why did you slap me…?”

“I’m sorry! I hope it didn’t hurt! Oh, and I was going to try and hit you again… I’m so sorry!” 

She pulled back from the embrace, looking to him with horror. He continued with his warm expression.

“No, no. I was just surprised. I wasn’t afraid of another hit.”

She turned to Mikoto and Shidou to express her excitement, and Kazui reached up to rub his burning cheek. His eyes flicked to Mahiru with uncertainty. He was, after all, an excellent liar. 

[monstrumpuella]

Yes.

[isittoomuchprobablynot]

Take me down to the river and bathe me clean

put me on the back of your white horse to ride

All the way to the chapel, let you wash all over me

[brood-mother]

"but how did people fall for the willy wonka experience scam when it was so obviously fake just looking at the site!" because it was deliberately targeted at working class families and people who generally don't have the best literacy and online situational deduction skills. billy coull and the other scammers were fully aware the AI pics would be a dead giveaway to most people, as experienced scammers they were likely counting on it.

its the same way email scammers use terrible grammar and spelling in their "african prince" or fake blackmail type scams, because the people who would be more likely to fall for it are also the most vulnerable, the most disadvantaged, and the least likely to be able to do anything about the situation after they've been scammed. scammers like these are also hoping the victim's embarrassment at being fleeced by something that was "obvious" in hindsight shuts them up.

also people who blame the victims of scams for "not being smart enough" are fucking rats btw 👍 hope this help

[deconstructthesoup]

The trope that will always, always gut me like a fucking fish is "Oh, you want a villain? I'LL SHOW YOU A VILLAIN" and it dates all the way back to seventh grade, when little me first pulled Nimona off of the graphic novel shelf because she thought the dragon girl on the cover looked cool

[teatitty]

Aveline, Claudia and Evie had to exist in separate centuries because if they ever met one another they would singlehandedly destroy an empire