#as humans we're meant to live in a community
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Someone in the reblogs pointed out that it's an illusion and that people do significantly less than it seems, which is very true!
But also part of the problem is that we were never meant to exist alone as we do in modern society. Until extremely recently, humanity lived not only in multi-generational households but also as tightly knit communities.
You didn't have to do every single task that is required for you to exist -- cook, do laundry, clean, work, shop, have fun, rest, sleep, clean yourself, learn, socialise. Everything that could be was split across the family or community! Today your sister did the family's laundry but you had to go to the market, while your grandma cooked dinner for everyone.
Of course we are overwhelmed if we're required to do everything ourselves.
i feel like i do 25% of what an average person does in a day and still it's too much
#and that's on top of super long working hours#we as humans are not built for this#and I know that it's not possible for everyone#I personally would perish if I had to live with my family#but sometimes we can also choose our family from our friends
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just need to vent about the Olympics
#Saw the shittiest take saying “on top of the emotional distress on imane imagine how much in danger she is back home”#are you stupid? no seriously. are you stupid?#You think the entire goddamn country who sent here to the Olympics and the mena singing her praises didn't already know about the yx thing?#“oh i meant like bc of the trans allegations and yk”#literally go fuck yourself#don't make the cost of yout activism the demeaning of arab countries and painting us as savages#some of you are too comfortable showing your racism and ignorance under the guise of supporting queer identities#surprise surprise! us in those “barbaric uncivilised” countries don't go throwing people over roofs bc of trans allegations#Yes women can dress as manly as they want and hijab is never forced. Do you ever think before you speak??#Women like imane are welcomed and common in arab countries#the transphobes we have here are the same fucking ones you have in the west! how come yours is special and civilised terfs???#And stop calling her khalif for fucks sake. learn how arabic names work before butchering them with your ignorant self centered naming systm#Imane is her first name. Khalif is her FATHER'S first name. You're calling her by her father's first name NOT her last name#arabic names go with your first name first. father's first name second. grandpa firstname third then great grandpa THEN last name#call her imane and stop embarrassing yourself bc you're just calling her by a man's name. her father's#“trans allegations” as if our people take the west media seriously rather than a circus show at best. You're repeating old news.#And even if there were. People here are actually a community nurtured on kindness. even the most conservatives mind their business#We're raised on being a community. strangers are your brothers and sisters. Live and let live#But your goddamn media takes stories of religion extremist and paints ALL of us like that. and your tiny brain actually believes it#Hey! you know those gay stories on my blog you've been reading? They were written by a savage arab oh no!#They were written by someone who lives in those dangerous arabic countries! oh no!#You don't know our culture. You don't know our beliefs. You will never grasp our ideals bc they were weaved from kindness and helping others#So don't fucking talk shit about things you know NOTHING about. You don't know the queer arab struggles#the same bad apples you have there we have here. shitty people are shitty regardless of nationality#But actually we do have some etiquette and considerations for others here. We don't go throwing bricks at queen tourists do we?#So why would we do it to our own people you sad excuse of a human
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I heard a raw line from Guilllermo Del Toro the other day about monsters being the perfect way to express human failure:
“…monsters, I believe, are patron saints of our blissful imperfection, and they allow and embody the possibility of failing.”
And i was wondering your take on this quote in relation to things like vampire and werewolf and other semi-monster subtexts. “Monstrous” humans that are ironically allowed to act more human more often than… humans. I just find the attempt to make an outlet for imperfection while still at large criticizing it fascinating.
I mean, yeah, there's a long history of interpreting monsters through queer, anti-colonial, feminist and other Outsider lenses for exactly those reasons. The monster is the Other who is vilified by the in-group, which represents all that the in-group hates. The monster must, by its nature, fail to live up to the standards and expectations of the in-group, which is why it must be destroyed. But that also means the monster is free from the standards and expectations of the in-group, including oppressive and bigoted ones.
So, as an example, if you're queer, and rhetorically treated as inhuman and monstrous and diseased anyway, or eugenically classified as a deviant mutation or sub-derivation of "real" people, there is real appeal and a real sense of resistance in claiming monsterhood, in embracing it and glorying in it.
In part, that's what the rallying cry "we're here, we're queer, get used to it!" meant and still means. It is a reclaiming of monsterhood as a source of strength and community and pride, rather than shame. Slurs are used to Other queer people, to set them apart from "real" people and mark them out as a monstrous deviation from the virtuous norm - slurs are used to call us monsters. And thus a lot of queer people find a lot of power and freedom in reclaiming them, in turning their Othering into a flag to rally around.
And I think that's still a big part of the appeal of the monster, honestly, that freedom from being what someone else thinks you ought to be.
If you're a monster, you don't have to have the perfect body, you don't have to suppress your lust or your love. You don't have to shave your body hair or dress correctly for your assigned gender, or have a white picket fence house with a spouse and 2.3 children. You don't have to sit primly at the dinner table, you don't have to repress your emotions, you don't have to hate the foreigner or despise the gays or fear the trans agenda. You don't have to have a small, straight nose or perfect cheekbones, you don't have to wait to fuck until you're married, or pretend you want to fuck at all. You don't have to want to get rich or be a CEO, you don't have to pull yourself up by your bootstraps or be on your grindset, or cheer when the cops clear out a homeless camp.
To be a monster is to be free from the inhumanity that is forced on us by white supremacy, by fatphobia, by heteronormativity, by imperialism, and by the interests of capital. To be a monster is to be human in all the ways that are inconvenient to oppression.
... but I went off on a tangent there a little bit - vampires and werewolves, right. I have no theoretical or academic basis for any of this, so this is entirely a personal hot take, but I think vampires are perhaps a bit more about "passing" as a fantasy. Not necessarily in a gender sense, but the ability to keep your true nature undetected by the "normal" folk, while the secret things that make you different also make you dangerous and powerful. Surviving by stealing sustenance from a world that hates you, on terms that are entirely yours to dictate. "I will survive even if it kills you," that kind of vibe.
Werewolves, on the other hand, feel more like a defiant, angry embrace of the monstrous. Transforming into something vast and powerful and furious, growing out of your skin, out of your form, out of your boundaries; howling your nature to the moon and mauling any motherfucker who has a problem with it. Giving in to all the beastly unnatural urges, and diving into the horrible monstrous wants and desires that boil inside you (which, remember, include things like Not Wanting To Fuck or Wanting To Hold A Girl's Hand In A Lesbian Sort Of Way). Less the "I outfoxed your social game and drank you dry" slick vampire power fantasy and more the "call me a slur one more time and I'm going to wear your entrails like a fucking scarf" power fantasy.
Again, that's just personal hot takes, everyone's understanding of the monstrous in relation to themselves is different. I've seen a number of genderfluid and nb people use monstrousness as a way to defy occupying a shape that can be gendered for example.
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I read it! Really liked it too
#it sucks that you feel this way#and Im sorry that youre going through it#im not an artist myself#but Ive heard people say that the best art is made during conflict#or something#and I feel that this is actually a really great example#I totally agree that art is communication#and I feel like this is a microcosm of the profound loneliness of the modern age#if theres no one to talk to why communicate at all?#as humans we're meant to live in a community#a large group of people that requires constant communication to upkeep#and lack of communication really hurts us emotionally and mentally#meanwhile#modern life has isolated us from our communities#and stifled art and expression#and its just like...#whats even the point of something good if you dont share it with people you care about?#i dunno...#just kinda rambling I guess#but the point is#even this small piece of art really made me think#about life#and human nature#and modern society#and i think thats beautiful
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I went to a couple of writing workshops on the weekend and one of the authors speaking had some very prescriptive things to say about writing.
Things such as:
"If you don't use the hero's journey structure your writing is ugly."
"There can only be one protagonist. If someone tells me they have multiple protagonists in their story, they fundamentally don't understand the craft of writing."
"Readers have to empathise with the main character. Being relatable is the most important trait for a main character to have."
"Action comes before dialogue."
"Our bodies mimic the breathing patterns in punctuation."
"Stories have to have a satisfying ending, or they're not good stories. Unsatisfying endings are a modern invention which has harmed book sales."
And. Look. I know I'm not a big, famous flash-bang author or anything.
But some of these things are just outright false. I also really feel like this sort of attitude is (at best) snobby, and (at worse) shitty.
It's also not a very new attitude. Since the dawn of humanity, humans have been saying things like: "Stories are only good if XYZ."
And so, I just wanted to get online and say one thing:
"Aviate. Navigate. Communicate."
Those are the actions pilots are meant to do in an emergency. It's very important that they do them, in that order, because if they don't, there is a higher probability of disaster.
Like... crashing to the ground in a flaming ball of death level of disaster.
Writers (and I cannot stress this enough) are not pilots.
If we break rules, no one dies.
Sometimes, when we break rules, wonderful things happen.
So—while I think it's hugely useful to learn about story structure, craft, etc—coming at an art with absolute rules like this, is silly.
We're not pilots. Lives are not on the line. We can (and should) be creative and have fun. And if it doesn't work out? Oh well. That's fine. That's how we learn and grow as writers.
Also, what works for one writer may not work for another, and that's fine. Commerical success isn't everything... and there are actually plenty of very commercially successful books and stories that break these 'absolute' rules this author talked about.
So...
Yeah.
That's my lukewarm take.
Write and have fun. Don't worry about this sort of snobby silliness.
P.S I did actually enjoy the workshop and I think overall this author had good takes. I think there were just some very silly takes sprinkled in and I've been ruminating on them for a couple of days.
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Hi, how are you today? Could I ask for some headcanons of Poseidon falling in love with a mermaid reader? but she is not in love with him, she wants to know the human world and marry a human she had seen on a boat (reference to Ariel from the little mermaid, perhaps). In the end she ends up marrying the human and leaving the ocean behind. Please and thank you! and by the way I would like to add that I love your writing, it is wonderful ♡
Of course ♥, this is...lmao😭 imagine his face 😭😭
♦ Poseidon × mermaid!reader ♦
How he'd react to you falling for...a euughh human. But I want to add a twist, just like in the little mermaid movie where Ariel loses her voice to get human legs? I hope you don't mind. 🙇♀️
° A mermaid sweetheart, and the tyrant of the ocean.°
° A mermaid sweetheart, and the tyrant of the ocean. °
- so to be fair, it is kinda his fault for being such an asshole to you. You were just praising him for how cool he was, and he just coldly shrugged you off.
- thinking back to it, okay, maybe it kinda was his fault. He's not very good with that type of communication, he's just not the guy to talk to when you're feeling all happy and giddy or whatever.
- but now that he liked you? Wow. He won't admit it, but it's very obvious to all the fishes and creatures within the range of sight—that he has a big soft spot for you. YOU, a little mermaid who just swims around looking for cute pretty trinkets and things that sunk down to the ocean floor. Also looking for a prince charming.
- he didn't realize it before it was too late. When you fell for a young man on a boat, sailing across the sea. You fell in love with him, even trying to crawl up a rock to see him, just to see his face and what it was like up there.
- you made a deal with a sea witch, who offered to give you human legs of you traded your voice, which you did so. All in the hopes of being with your prince charming.
- Poseidon had overheard about it from a servant of his. Hearing about how a mermaid was able to live on land. This quickly ended in poseidon ordering the servant to get further information, since something in his gut told him to look into it further.
- and so, he found out. He found out you got married to a human, left the ocean and even going as far as trading your own voice to get human legs.
He. Was. Pissed.
- he killed the sea witch, taking back the necklace that stored your voice. A voice that was meant for ONLY him to hear and listen to. Quickly enough, your legs started to transform back into your tail, making you look at your beloved, who watched in horror.
- you quickly ran back to the deck, crying as the thunder rumbled and the sea roaring. The last thing you remember is a big earthquake, as well as a huge tsunami, swallowing the place whole and drowning all life forms into its waters.
- so yeah, he killed your significant other. Mans is not called a tyrant for nothing.
- you thought he's the type to be like "as long as you're happy"? I'm sorry to break it to you...but..this is Poseidon we're talking about. It's not about who's happy, as long as he gets what he wants in the end.
- he'll make sure there's an indoor pool of water in his palace, forcing you there to stay. Or maybe just trap you in Atlantis.
- you may or may not end up developing stolkholm syndrome, but either way, you'll still be his wife. His alone, his forever. If you guys need to breed, he'll just have some other sea witch give you human legs, WITHOUT paying a price. They'll have their body cut in half if they ever try to take anything in return. Once breeding time is over, he'll have you turned back into a mermaid.
- I actually bet that he rather have you wearing nothing on your top. He likes it better if you just have your whole chest out for him to see and look at. He can decorate you with jewelry and other Accessories too. Make sure you look pretty for him.
- you guys would probably have around 5-8 kids. Don't ask btw. He can make that shi happen until you can't birth any more kids out.
- he'll keep you hidden from the world,any single mention of you will quickly be silenced with a glare from him. He rather not share.
- no, you won't call him by just his name. You need to call him "lord Poseidon". It arouses him better, and because he likes to remember the hold he has on you.
- believe me, when he needs to go to a meeting in Valhalla or something, servants there gotta prepare a big tank full of water. Cus he's bringing you with him. You better be thankful he's even letting you see the outside world.
- he's so bitchy and does not let the littlest thing slide. They got you the wrong type of water in your tank? They will die on the spot. It could be as little as putting a little decorative item in the tank that might hurt you, or not making the tank pretty enough for you.
- whatever it is, anyone who dissapoints will be sliced.
- you are a pampered little queen, getting such good treatment from everyone and everything within your range. So best if you don't ask, and just deal with it. Cus angering him is not worth it, I'm serious.
#record of ragnarok#shuumatsu no valkyrie#ror poseidon#record of ragnarok × reader#ror × reader#snv poseidon#shuumatsu no valkyrie × reader#snv × reader#record of ragnarok headcanons#snv poseidon × reader#poseidon snv#poseidon ror#ror poseidon × reader#ror poseidon headcanons#shuumatsu no valkyrie poseidon#poseidon record of ragnarok#record of Ragnarok poseidon#shuumatsu no valkyrie headcanons#poseidon shuumatsu no valkyrie#record of ragnarok poseidon#poseidon#poseidon × reader#mermaid reader#ror#snv#snv headcanons#ror headcanons
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Angel!Lucifer x Human Reader: Second Preview
Hey hey! This is for all you night owls out there! I call this a preview but it's pretty long lol. The people in my community already read a part of this but there's new stuff too! Let me know how you enjoy it so far! And again, thank you for being so patient with me on this one <3
No active warnings!
You looked down and began to fiddle with your hands, unsure if your reason would upset the angel. "It's Adam..." you began, "He's...so needlessly demanding and harsh. He doesn't see us as equals, he believes himself to be superior to me. I've tried explaining to him that he shouldn't be acting this way, but he refuses to listen! Finally, I had enough of him...so I ran..." You felt the tears well up in your eyes once more, small whimpers escaping your throat as you tried to hold yourself together. "I know we're meant to be partners and I've sure heaven will not be happy b-but..."
"Shh, it's alright." Lucifer cooed as he wiped away the tears the fell down your cheek. "Please, no more tears. You were right to stand up to him. Adam should know better." You sighed and let your head rest in Lucifer's small yet tender hand. You glanced over at the pound when you heard an unfamiliar noise emanating from the center. You noticed some feathered creatures you didn't recognize swimming on the lakes surface. There seemed to be one that was much larger than all the others. You looked back at Lucifer and saw his face light up with delight. "Do you see those little ones over there?" You nodded. "Heaven may not have wanted my input on creation, but that doesn't mean I didn't have any."
"Are those your creations?" you asked.
Lucifer smiled and then sighed. "One of very few. Do you want to get a closer look?"
You looked back out to the water and saw the group of animals flap their wings, splashing the water in every direction. They seemed so full of life and energy, watching them play filled your heart with warmth. You nodded, albeit a bit nervously. Lucifer let out a melodic whistle; you watched as the little creatures made their way towards the lake bank. You saw them use their small wings to help them onto land and waddle towards the two of you. Initially, you stretched out your hand to touch one of the smaller ones but pulled back in hesitation.
"Don't worry," lucifer reassured, "they are harmless, I promise! Watch!" Lucifer cupped his hands together and laid them down in the soft grass. A few of the small ones happily chippered and hopped into his palms. "Want to give it a try?"
You copied Lucifer's motions exactly and watched as the same thing happened with the remaining babies. Their feathers were bright yellow and soft to the touch. You were in awe of the little lives you held in your hands. "They’re so small," you said aloud to no one in particular. "What are they, Lucifer?"
The angel lowered his hands and let the little ones go back to what you now assumed was their guardian. "I named them ducks," Lucifer answered. "The little ones are ducklings; not fully formed yet but they will grow!"
You nuzzled your cheek to the handful of ducklings; their little peeps made you chuckle. "They're beautiful!" you exclaimed, letting them down so they could join their family once more.
"Yeah, beautiful..." you heard Lucifer murmur. You looked over to see his lovely blue eyes staring straight back at you, a tint of yellow now colored his cheeks. "Uhh, I mean, umm...here! Watch this!"
A sudden flash of sparkles left you dazed, but only for a second. Lucifer had disappeared in front of your eyes.
"Lucifer?" you called out, looking to either side of you but seeing no one.
"Down here!" you heard his voice respond. You looked down and saw a small little white duck in Lucifer's top hat. He smiled at you and wagged his feathered tail. You couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, what an adorable little creature," you fawned playfully, cupping your hands once again and allowing him to hop in them. You brought him to your cheek and nuzzled him as you did with the others. Lucifer quacked in excitement. "I didn't know you could change forms!"
"It's not something I do often," he admitted. By the tone of his voice, it almost seemed like it was something that had been discouraged. "But I don't mind making a special exception for you!" You noticed the sun began to dip over the horizon, the fleeting sunlight shimmering off Lucifer's pristine white feathers. It would be night soon, and in that moment you realized you didn't have anywhere else to go. Lucifer noticed the change in your demeanor, tilting his head. "Is something the matter?" Before you could open your mouth to speak, a bellowing call could be heard from the tree line.
"Where the fuck could she be?!" you heard the voice ask, filled with annoyance. Adam. You saw the man push past the foliage and make it to the clearing. His eyes immediately found yours, and you felt as though your heart had nearly stopped. You let Lucifer down gently before standing up.
"Stay here," you whispered to him. "I'll talk with him."
"But-" Lucifer tried to refute, but you shook your head intensely.
"I don't want to risk angering heaven," you responded. "The last thing I want is for you to be punished for my choice. Please?"
Hesitantly, Lucifer nodded in agreement, making his way to the water to join the other ducks in an attempt to blend in. His little hat vanished as he started swimming. You sighed and turned to meet with the brute of a man who was already towering over you. His chest heaved; his breath was short. You could already tell this may not end well.
"Where the FUCK have you been?!" he began to shout, raising his hands in the air out of frustration. "I've been looking for you for way too long, you know that? Making me walk everywhere to find you? Fucking ridiculous!"
You took a deep inhale and let it out slowly before responding. "I'm sorry, Adam," you feigned an apology.
"Whatever," the man spat back. "You've had your temper tantrum, now let's g-" Adam paused, his eyes staring at the length of your body. "The fuck is this?" he asked grabbing the sleeve of the cloth that hung off your body. In your worry for Lucifer, you'd forgotten about the gift he had given you. You smacked Adam's hand away and wrapped your arms around yourself.
"It doesn't matter," you answered curtly.
You watched as the man's eyebrows furrowed at your non-compliance. "I don't have time for this," he reached out once more and took a firm hold of your wrist. "We're going back. Now!"
You slipped your wrist out of Adam's grasp and took a few steps back, your feet at the end of the lake. "I..." you started, your voice threatening to crack. "I'm not going back with you! I'm tired of your behavior and your disrespect. I'm not your servant, Adam, and I refuse to live the life I was given as your slave."
Adam snarled at you, stomping closer and closer to you, forcing you back into the water as you tried to avoid him. But it was to no avail. He was quick to grab your arm and yank you from the lake pulling flush against his bare chest. "That wasn't a suggestion," he spoke through gritted teeth. You tried to pull away but his grip on your arm was far too strong. "Like it or not toots, we're the only ones in this place. You have nowhere else to go and you know it! And frankly, I'm tired of these stupid games! Now, quit acting like a bitch and move your-"
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" a booming voiced roared. You felt a hand take a firm hold of the one that was trapped by Adam and watched as another tore Adam's own hand away from you. Lucifer appeared in front of you after separating you from the man. The angle floated off the ground, his wings spread out wide as he moved swiftly towards the startled man. "How dare you!" Lucifer growled. "How dare you put your hands on her like that! How dare you speak to her like that! You have no right!"
Adam held his hand in pain, shooting daggers in Lucifer's direction. "Who the fuck are you?!" He took a step closer, not waiting for an answer. Even as Lucifer hovered over the ground, Adam still towered over him easily. "You know what, I don't care! Listen, short stack, I don't know who you are or why you're here, but you need to get the fuck out of my way. She's my wife and I can do whatever I want to her. She's mine, got it?"
Adam curled his uninjured hand into a fist and took a swing at Lucifer, only for him to fall flat on his face as Lucifer easily dodged his attack. "Nice try," the angel taunted, "and by the way, the name's Lucifer." You let out a small laugh. Fire burned in Adam's eyes as he lifted his head.
"Shut the fuck up!" he yelled at you. But Lucifer would not accept this response. He latched onto Adam's arm and lifted him of the ground like he weighed nothing.
"What did I tell you about speaking to her like that?" Lucifer threatened. He tossed Adam against one of the trees that stood at the edge of the clearing. The man groaned in pain, attempting to pull himself up and lean his aching body against the tree. Lucifer quickly swooped down, acting as a barrier between the two of you. "You've shown me who you are, Adam. You are a monster, a disgrace. You treat this woman like the dirt you walk on and you expect her to stay with you? To love you?" Lucifer hoisted Adam up, pinning him against the trunk. "You will never see her again; do you understand me? You're going to leave this place and never come back. She is under my protection now. And if you ever so much as come within a mile of her, I will not hesitate to turn you back into the dust you were formed from." Lucifer released his grip on Adam and watched as he took a few steps back into the forest. "Leave. Now!"
Adam wiped the small amount of blood that dripped from his lip and laughed darkly. "Fine, keep her!" he yelled. "She doesn't mean anything to me! Who would want a slut like her anyway!"
"GO!" Lucifer bellowed.
Without another word, Adam took off into the trees. Lucifer flew high up in the sky within seconds, his arms stretched out on either side. The ground beneath you began to shake violently and you wanted to call out for Lucifer before you realized that he was the cause. Seemingly out of nowhere, large rock formations began rising from the earth, rock tumbling down as the mountains grew. As soon as they reached Lucifer's height, they stopped.
And then there was silence.
#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer smut#my writing#preview#this may be my longest yet but we'll see!#thank you for your patience <3
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IDK how to write today's update post. There were so many things I meant to include info about, but now everything pales in the face of the terrible news we got this morning.
At least 24 Israeli soldiers were killed in the last 24 hours in Gaza.
Here are the faces of some of them:
The terrorists responsible for most of these deaths, attacked in a spot just 600 meters (0.37 miles, with the border breached on Oct 7 in the middle) from a southern Israeli community, Kissufim.
[this paragraph is for the people spewing hate, on and off anon : if you read the news and smiled to yourself, or felt any kind of joy, I want you to know that's vile. It's devoid of any morality or humanity. You can tell yourself and others that you're for human rights all you want, but if you feel joy at the death of human beings, human beings who had the right to live (and would have lived, had it not been for the terrible massacre Hamas carried out on Oct 7, which the terrorists promised to recreate repeatedly, targeting Israelis and Jews alike), then you're not for human rights. It's just an excuse you use to be able to publicly celebrate the death of Jews, and of non-Jewish citizens of the Jewish state who defend their fellow Jews. It's just the same, age old antisemitism under a new guise]
IDK how to explain what that number does to me, as an Israeli, as a Jew, as the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors.
I still remember the morning of Oct 7, as the news started pouring in. First, just talking about the rockets, they had no confirmation of casualties yet. Then, we got the news of one elderly woman, killed by a rocket as she left her home to open the communal bomb shelter for others to use. Then suddenly it was 5 dead, then 10, then 22, along with the news that Palestinian terrorists from Gaza have invaded Israel's south.
And I knew then that the number is going to be higher. The way it normally goes with news of terrorist attack, is you first get a big number, those killed immediately or shortly after the attack, and then there are a few more wounded who don't make it. Basically, there's a big number, and then a small adjustment. Something like... first hearing about the 10 immedaite casualties of an attack, then the number is adjusted to 12 or 13 in the following hours, or days. But here, the jump in the number of dead from 10 to 22 told me we're not in the "small adjustment phase" yet. We're still in the "counting the initial big number phase."
That was so hard, because 22 was already hard to deal with. Up until Oct 7, if I remember correctly, we had lost 38 people in 2023 to Palestinian terrorism. That was already considered the bloodiest year in terms of terrorism victims since the second intifada. People were already grieving, asking questions about what was going on, talking about how the renewal of certain (American) funding to Palestinians (such as the Palestinian Authority's Pay for Slay program) was causing this surge in murderous activity, and what can be done to change the situation. To lose 22 people in one day meant that the number of 2023 terrorism victims was almost doubled already... and we were not yet done counting our dead. The grief and loss of almost 9 months and change almost doubled in a day... and it was likely about to grow.
The number of dead kept rising. We jumped from 22 to 50. From 50 to 100. Then 200. Still no sign of getting to the "small adjustment phase" and it was hard to breathe with every new update. We got to 300, and it was almost unbearable. Then 450. A jump of 150 dead. There was no way to process it, no way to really comprehend it, and the worst was always that the jumps in numbers between updates meant we're still in the "counting the initial big number phase." Somewhere after 600 and before the next update, I realized from an interview (nothing official, just the implication of what one person, who was in the know, said) that it was not going to be less than 1,000 people killed. And I no longer felt like I could contain any of it. The horror, the grief, the shock, the struggle to comprehend that this is real, and not the worst nightmare I've ever had.
At least 1,200 people were murdered during Hamas' massacre. It's been over 3 months, and when I write that I didn't know how to contain everything I was feeling back then, I still don't. So you might think, what's 24 people in comparison to 1,200 dead? But that's not how it works. The death of one person does not pale in comparison with the death of the many.
When I work on Holocaust research, and I work on the testimony of one Jewish girl, who had to watch her father being beaten in front of her eyes by Nazi-collaborating Italian fascist soldiers in a concentration camp in Libya, in northern Africa, when I try to process what the murder of just one parent, just one person means to her, I know it's the destruction of her whole world. It doesn't lessen the pain, that the number of Jewish Holocaust victims outside of Europe is "just" in the thousands, while in Europe it's in the millions. One death can in itself be impossible to bear.
And here's the thing. Those deaths and their impact accumulate. We didn't just learn today that we lost 24 soldiers. We lost 24 worlds (because as the Jewish saying goes, "He who kills one person, it's as if he killed the entire world, and he who saves one person, it's as if he saved the whole world," Mishna Sanhedrin 4.5) and we lost them as a part of now over 220 soldiers we lost in this war (see below a map of Israel with a red dot for every place where at least one soldier was killed), which was forced upon us with the murder and destruction of over 1,200 worlds, which comes after 75 years of a conflict we didn't want, in which we lost 28,000 worlds, and that followed a genocide in which we lost at least 6,000,000 worlds, and that in itself is the peak of almost two thousand years of persecution, during which the full and total number of Jews lost, of worlds destroyed just because of antisemitism, will never be known. All I know is that the Jews we know today, we're not the Jewish people. We are what's left of the Jewish people. And we will live. Am Yisrael Chai. Always. In the face of countless attempts at our destruction, we're still here. But we remember them all. Every single soul lost. Every world destroyed. Every child that had been murdered, every child that will never get to be born. We have lost 24 worlds today, and the fact that we have lost so many before, only makes the loss worse.
And we would not have lost a single person in the fighting in Gaza if we had actually been guilty of the crimes they accuse us of. We could have wiped out all of Gaza from the air, without risking the life of a single soldier on the ground. Every one of the Israeli soldiers killed, died to protect Israelis, as well as to save Palestinian civilians.
The way I feel right now, I think about the words of one member of Kissufim who I heard today: "We are broken, but strong."
May the memory of those lost be a blessing, every single one of them, every Jewish person, and non-Jew killed for standing with Jews, in every generation.
You're all still with me, I carry all of you in my heart, always.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
#israel#antisemitism#israeli#israel news#israel under attack#israel under fire#terrorism#anti terrorism#hamas#antisemitic#antisemites#jews#jew#judaism#jumblr#frumblr#jewish#israelunderattack
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it’s unbelievably comforting to know that you’re therian/otherkin as a younger person who’s identified that way for years as well. people like you are ones i look up to for being my most authentic self and you remind me that it’s not a phase and i’m ALLOWED to be who and what i am ^_^
aww thank you! and hey of course, that's why i try to talk about it so often. i've identified as nonhuman since i was a child, but i've been a part of the online nonhuman community since 2010. i first joined the furry community as someone who genuinely identified as their sona, then the otherkin/therian/etc. communities when someone i followed on here came out as a dragon otherkin.
over the years we've realized a few nonhuman identities. we're not all one person so some of these will only apply to some, but we state that we collectively identify as a wolf, coyote, dog, & horse therian, and we have a lot of elf and dragon otherkin in our system, as well as other identities that are less common but important to the individuals who have them! many of us are undead, some are angels and demons.
i instantly became very involved in the community! i became staff on many different forums over the years and tried to help out when and where i could. i was very active under a lot of different usernames due to our DID, but i've tried to interact with others and help people understand that identifying as nonhuman isn't a bad, scary, or dangerous thing. it's not a problem. it's just how that person experiences their life and how they see themselves!
you're not doing anything wrong by identifying as a nonhuman. this belief is held across many cultures, all throughout human history. it's been well documented and recorded over the course of human history on every continent we've lived on and it's not going away any time soon. we are meant to be in nature. we are meant to be around other animals. humans ARE a species of animal- we are not above the animal kingdom, we are a part of it. it's only natural to relate to other animals.
you're perfectly fine being your authentic nonhuman self! i'm glad i can help you feel more comfortable in that. you are genuinely not harming anyone, that is a them problem if they have any issues with it. you are just being yourself! :) take care, stay safe, feel free to stop by again!
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The christian side of tumblr found a post where I made a little joke about how religion puts women into servitude and it's going around gathering bible quotes and arguing whether this is about christianity or other religions x_x I never thought this day would come.. I didn't think christians were on here. And even though the majority of people arguing are christians, I never wrote down 'christianity', I meant all abrahamic religions.
I'm itching to go argue but I know deep in my heart there is nothing to be gained. These people are eager to mock and personally attack whoever is disagreeing with them and that is not a honest intellectual discussion that I crave. I think if you're religious you just have to avoid thinking things like 'why is that so' and 'isn't that awfully convenient' and 'what if this promised thing fails to materialize' because once you start having those thoughts, the entire thing falls apart.
I remember being 15 and realizing that the christian god has no actual use of us, no point in caring about us whatsoever, and no incentive to pay attention to what we do or don't do, but humans very much have a need to believe in the higher power that works to their personal advantage, and that there's someone 'up there' who will make things alright for them, that they have a higher purpose and that if they follow certain rules it will pay out. And this was enough for me to figure out that god didn't create humans, but humans created god, because humans have a need of a god, while god has no need or use for humans at all.
It was only later when I learned about feminism that I realized it wasn't only that, but that it was specifically made to control, exploit and oppress women, praising them for endless servitude, sacrifice, submission and platitude, all while consistently telling them they're filled with sin and never good enough. It's now ghoulish and bizarre to me that the symbol of their faith is a m*n being brutally tortured, that what we feel is holy is endless suffering and pain and death. We're told to aspire for that. That has nothing to do with spirituality, nothing to do with human nature or healthy and happy human lives. It's a worship of death.
There are promises that religious people make towards women, to make them believe it's a path towards true love, or endless rewards for being 'faithful' and 'pure' or a life where they feel safe from disasters, safe from being abandoned and betrayed. There's nothing in life that can guarantee that. Religion can however, offer certain people a community, it can provide services where you come and listen to stories, and stories come with morals (convenient and confusing morals, but people love engaging with moral-type stories and feeling they've learned something), it provides rituals and celebrations that cultures have integrated in their life (after it destroyed the original rituals and celebrations, but we don't talk about that), and it can provide a common ground of understanding for people (sadly the common ground is that women exist to serve and that this is natural). Sometimes it also provides a feeling of superiority for some people, enabling them to mock, humiliate and patronize others for their 'lack of religion'.
So I understand there are community related reasons a person might feel safer within a religion and having this common ground and community, common beliefs, familiarity and stories, rituals and celebrations, it doesn't come off as a horrible thing, especially when the majority of the culture does it. But other things it brings are painful for women, and often hidden. Encouraging hidden suffering, sacrifice, servitude, centering torture and death, and admiration of torture and death, instead of celebrating nature, life, the world we live in and how we interact with it. Centering males as creators when everyone alive was created by women. Dismissing wars, rape, terrorism, weapons of mass destruction, genocides and male brutality, while endlessly shaming women for having feelings and not doing a good enough job pleasing the violent males. And generally making a hell for women when they have any thoughts about sexuality or lust.
I know me writing about it here will not have any effect on people personally attacking me for being ignorant and uneducated, but it feels good to write down the thoughts I've been having all day! Being forbidden from thinking in certain direction, forbidden from questioning my own beliefs, is something that plagued me for a big part of my life, and I will not have it anymore. I can say 'this is awfully convenient' when religions declare that m*n are leaders and women are supposed to follow and serve. I can say that putting up statues of a m*n dying in torture is fucked up and morbid. I can say that making me believe that I would go to hell, for not following every order I've been given, is a horrid thing to do to a female child. And I'm happy and grateful that I can think and say whatever I want, without any threat of damnation ever looming over me.
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Bad End: Heroic Collection
New Haven wasn't a major metropolis. Some big city like Delhi or Tokyo, Jakarta and the like. It was big for the area. A major hub for commerce and crime on a local scale. But Nationally? INTERNATIONALLY? Not even close. No matter WHAT the great ambitions that haunted the Mayor, late at night, may tell you.
So, really, there was NO fucking reason for any A Listers to be here.
NONE.
Our biggest exports were fancy fucking jams and that one fashion line I couldn't pronounce. We had honest to God Jam festivals in the fall. It was a circuit, Mayor gave out awards. There were pies. Firestrike always ate himself sick. Agent always laughed at him. I... Fuck, my head was ringing. I'd hit that last building HARD. Was pretty sure I tasted blood. Not... not sure if that was because I busted something in my mouth or...
Over my comms, I could hear my teammates fighting. Trying to hail the Alliance. If we could... could just hold on...
Long enough for the major players to GET here?
Then what? I had to wonder. Staring at a burning bus in front of me. It was half way lodged through Mrs. Brahimi's shop. Please, God, let her and the workers have got out all right. I'd been there just this morning. She made me those stuffed flatbread things. Said I was still too skinny. Should rest more.
I use the twist remains of a book return to lever myself to my feet. Book..? Oh. I'm by the library. Which..? Fuck. Main one. That's city hall.
Smoke rises around the city I've lived in all my life. Fires everywhere. I'm supposed... supposed to be a hero. But I can barely stand. Feel sick as the world sways. My body is one big bruise. Gotta... gotta keep fighting. Helping. Save people.
In the distance, I can hear screams.
I'm coming. I promise. I'm coming!
I make my screaming body move. Stumble. Catch myself. Then keep going. The hiss and spit in my ear tells me that my communicator is probably half broken. I don't try it, in case that breaks it the rest of the way. Wrench doors from half crushed cars to free trapped civilians. Lever wreckage, hold it with trembling limbs, so people can crawl to safety. Run. Please, god, RUN!
We aren't strong enough.
He's here, The Collective.
A hivemind super threat. Alien supposedly. So far above my team's pay grade we know basically nothing. The kind of thing we were expected to never realistically see. We're nobody's. Fuck it, we're HAPPY being nobody's. It meant we got to go home each night. Didn't face The Horrors. Like him.
He CONSUMES.
Hungry. Trying to fill some void that's never going to fill. Supposedly a planet eater. Gutting worlds for resources, materials, to continue his own expansion. Now fixated on Earth for it's continued refusal to die. For its defiance. Some A+ sort of monster, to our high C rank. At best.
Fuck... we dealt with HUMANS. Fought gimmicks and tech. Little fish in our little pond. Now this tsunami was bringing the ocean to US and it was all we could do, to swim and survive.
I leaned against a half smashed car. Braced myself against it, more then anything, then started pulling pot shots. I... I was gonna black out soon. With a concussion like this? Probably wasn't gonna be waking up. Especially if those THINGS found me before a friendly did.
All across the city I called home, The Collective had Drones tearing the place apart.
They'd almost be pretty. Tall, elegant, androgynous lookin, supermodel twinks in battle armor. Drones apparently covered their lower face. I'd know the "commander" by their uncovered face and "use of adornments". Useful! Except they could fucking SWITCH on command, so you have to take out ALL of them.
Because they weren't a collection of different soldiers.
THEY weren't a THEY. That? Was a fucking HE. Singular.
You don't consider each of your individual cell as people. Each follicle of hair. Why would HE? God damn it. It was like fighting a giant. Against Gods. They just kept coming. And my ammo? Was not endless.
Worse. The drones had stopped looking. I don't know WHAT they had been searching for. But now? They started to converge on me. On city hall. Fuck. I... I couldn't even really stand anymore. My vision was blurring. I knew for a FACT my shots were shit. But dense as they were crowding? It seemed enough. Kept them back.
Three cartridges left.
Two.
Only one more...
The Alliance was coming. Half my team had gone silent. I could hear tears in the voice of Tech, back in the office. They had our life signs. Built into our armor. I could only imagine what mine looked like. Prayed, like I hadn't since I was a kid, that the others were just unconscious. Safe somewhere.
Someplace this nightmare couldn't reach them.
I doubted I was that lucky.
Tech was begging me to hold on. Giving me ETAs. And... And I was out of bullets. The block half full of Drones. I had escrima sticks. A fucking tazer. It would have to do. Sticks came out, as I swayed to my feet. No longer letting the car behind me hold my weight. What's a little... let's say, hundred or so, on one? Eh?
Bring your friends. Let's make it a fair fight.
I'll go easy on you.
Bravado until the end. Remember, never know who's watching. You are a symbol. Before you are a man, you are their HERO. Don't you DARE let them down. Even if you die. Especially when you die. B.. Bravado until the end. Plaste on a smirk and say a one-liner, we got hope to shoulder.
I took down about three Drones... I think... before the rest swarm me.
Feel hands pinning my arms. My torso. Everything. A weak point between the panels is ripped open. High grade military fabrics doing jack shit against their impossible strength. The distinct pinch tug of a needle in my skin. Cold spreading. The sudden exhaustion of a powerful sedative. I... am gone.
Time... is blurry.
Now and Then running together in my senses. My brain. The concussion doesn't help. Or... or didn't? It feels... gone? Gone-ing? Oh... look, sky. Clouds. Pretty. Wasn't I standing? I am standing. No... no being dragged. Chair? Not chair. Stairs? Carried. Pretty window..... where am I? Fuzzy. Bluzzy fuzzy purple beans~ he he he~ oh! Those are the... watch'ma call it! Gucci chairs! That rich lady had! Neat. Plurble.
Ouch! Why'd you pi...?
My mouth is dry as sand. But suddenly? I am hyper aware. The floating drift of my mind VIOLENTLY gone, replaced by alerted and focus. Drones surround me in a vaguely familiar hallway. Shit. I think it's that rich designer's place. My helmet is off, but my mask is still in place, thank god. The Drones stand far to close for my liking. Their many eyes, amused.
So glad to entertain, you Fuck.
I am frog marched down the hall. Damn near dragged. They were too smart to restrain me with my own cuffs, unfortunately. So my hands are bound behind my back with something tight I can't get a good feel off. Bastard secured it to my belt, too. Great.
The Collective's "Face" is surrounded by what must be every jewel in the city. Piled high in some vague sorting pattern I refuse to even try and comprehend. He's trying on rings. One on every finger, to see what matches his skin tone. Looks good. Already, he has a pearl stud and some earrings he's decided he likes. He looks up as I'm dragged in, and I realize immediately what one of "a few other differences" between him and the Drones are...
It's the EYES,
They GLOWED.
Metallic almost. Nearly neon. They reflected the light in a way the Drones simply did not. It made their face... horrificly predatory. Made for WATCHING, somehow. Unnerving and haughty. Beautiful still, but uncomfortable to be near.
Sitting up on a table that basicly swallows the room, dead center like a show piece on display, with one long leg tossed over the other and no fucking shirt on? The Face looks almost carefully, artfully, staged. To maximize some "haughty yet coy, alien prince who maybe wants to fuck you" shtick.
Does... Does he not realize I'm NOT one of the usual opponents? I mean. Flattered at the "join me! The Darkside has sex and cookies!" set up. Always fun. Classic, really. But, like? I would be... at BEST... a solidly MID goon.
Also "NO".
Gonna preemptively throw that out there. Maybe some expletives for flavor. Suggest someplace sunless to shove it. SOLID "No". Good try, though.
Around me, the Drones are shaking with silent laughter. Staring down at me, their pale eyes dancing with amusement. It's creepy as hell. Unnerving to be the center of attention like this. For this many eyes, utterly in synch, to surround and watch my every twitch. Act fascinated and amused, like I'm some little animal performing tricks.
The Face hasn't dropped his Seduction to the Darkside routine. If anything, he seems delighted by the defiance. Which... yeah, that tracks. It's why he's harrasing out planet to begin with. That one's definitely on me. So, better question? Not that I'm not glad and all? Why the FUCK am I not dead.
"And lose my HERO? Perish the thought~" drawles The Collective, the posture light and lazy, even as something dangerous threaded itself through their tone. It sounded... possessive. But that couldn't be right. "I would NEVER do such a thing! In fact, we are going to have to be far more careful with that little processor of yours. Far too fragile. Just the one, too. Horrifying, really."
Thanks. Just what every guy loves to really make 'im feels special. Insults.
Fucker.
More laughter from all around me. I grit my teeth. Come oooon, Alliance. Where the hell ARE you guys!? Could REALLY use a rescue! The hands holding me still are drifting. Fucking handsy. Damn near stroking even as they hold me immobile. They're looking for the clasps and buckles on my armor. Have already found the obvious ones. Fingers oh so casually drifting over, to grip, flex, and tear them apart.
I do NOT like how loose my armor is starting to feel. Barely able to hold on. Protect me. Limited as that protection may be. I think I'm developing a horrifying empathy for clams. Crustaceans in general. Anything that gets slowly pried from the safety of it's shell, too certain doom.
The Face casually tosses the rings he was playing with aside. Tens of thousands of dollars bouncing off to God only knows where. He slides from the table to stand. Shit. He's huge.
The androgynous twink supermodel thing he has going on? Fucking LIES. Twists your perception of how, EXACTLY, strong the Face body IS. He clears seven feet easily, is muscled in that distinctly "never see me coming until it's too late" sort of way all the ninja types are.
The tattoos. It's the FUCKING tattoos! They give the illusion that he's slimmer then he actually is.
It HIDES MUSCLE MASS.
I can't tell if that's vanity or strategy and I hate it. Glare as he sashays towards me. Hips rolling in that elegant catwalk strut. I'm forced to my knees. Because of course I am. How ELSE will the bastard loom and gloat? Though really, weak as I currently feel, it's more that the Drones holding me up? Stop doing that. My knees more or less just give up on their own.
"Like what you see? You're staring so intently~" He mocks. If he were being genuine, I'd call it teasing. Flirtatious. But I know better. "It IS a pretty body, isn't it? I worked hard on it, you know. All sort of fun little details~ Might honestly be one of my favorites. If you're good for me, I'll let you explore it~"
THERE it is.
Darkside. Sex and cookies. Sign up today. Fuck you and not in the fun way. Keep your hands to yourself, Collective. You're not convincing me. You could tell me the sky was blue, and I'd make three presentations with a PowerPoint, on why you were a liar. No, still No, and a hefty fuck off No for spice.
Three steps away. Two steps. One.
A man that tall and dangerous? Frankly did NOT need heels. Figures he'd wear them anyway. Sharp enough to kill a man. Right infront of my folded knees. I refuse to look up. No more fucking games. Did have to wonder, though, if those pants... if they even WERE pants? Were painted on or not. Very tight. Looked vaguely metal yet leather.
Shit.
Fingers, splayed wide as they run themselves through my sweaty and probably bloodstained hair. Couldn't have been nice to touch. Wrong angle and just a touch too big to be a Drone. Light as a lover, sweet almost, soothing. Before it inevitably tightens, gripping the strands. Honestly not as hard as I expected, didn't even hurt.
Still, my head is forced back.
Back and back and back, forced to arch my spine, hang awkwardly at some forty-five degree angle. My thighs and abs already screaming. A Drone grabs the back of my armor and, with an almost casual yank, my chest plate is violently snapped free. Both tossed to the floor away from us.
"There we are~" the Face hums down at me, eyes nearly hypnotic in how the light moved from within, grin full of sharp and deadly teeth. "No more of that ugly thing in the way. I much prefer this~"
"Tell me, Little Hero, do you remember? Becoming mine."
No, I certainly do fucking not. What the HELL is he-!? From behind the Face a Drone steps. Dressed differently to the others. Casual clothes. Like... actual street clothes. If they weren't GREEN I never would been able too-...
In horror, I watch as the pigment of the Drones skin melts away to a middling average. So utterly nondescript a blend of ethnicities that it's genuinely hard to place, but won't stand out no matter where he goes in the city.
I... I had seen that face.
SAVED that man.
Thought he was CUTE! T..Thought WE were having some sort of MEET CUTE! Oh God. That was at the festival. I was out of costume. Saved him from getting crushed. Then my teammates handled everything before I could slip away. So I just... stayed. Showed the cute tourist the festivities.
We ate FANCY JAMS, YOU FUCK!
I pined our that cute tourist for WEEKS. Was UNBEARABLE. Tech threatened to shove me off a roof! Oh my god.
Laughter.
Dozens of mouths, laughing in perfect sync. The noise layered and bouncing strangely around the room. Deeper then it should be, higher as it swings. Like a radio or voice modulator that someone is messing with. A momentary loss of control. My anger fizzles out to fear. Oh... oh yeah...
I forgot I was fucked.
At.. at least I know why?
A step forward. Past too close and now basically in my lap. A foot on either side of my knees. I try not to think exactly where my face would be pressed if I wasn't dragged back, to hang near painfully arched, so he could lean down and I could be forced to make eye contact. That way lay madness.
He moved his other hand to my face, cupping it. Dragging his thumb possessively across my mouth. He hummed, pleased.
He pressed closer, sliding down my front to his knees, straddling my lap. REALLY hoped that WAS, in fact, a weapon in your pocket there, buddy. Because I am not liking the handsy direction this is going, nor have I come to terms with my meet cute being a monstrous planet killing warlord. Not feeling sexy, my guy.
....okay, a LITTLE sexy, but that is hormones and we ignore those.
Fuuuuuck, wandering haaaaands! Now would be a GOOD TIME for door kicking rescues! I do NOT want to learn anything new about myself today! I want to go HOME. Sleep forever, maybe! Have a burrito the size of my head! Oh god. Think unsexy thoughts. Math. Sad puppies! Sad puppies doing MATH!
The Collective had dragged me upright. Pressed my face right up against their Face's bare skin. All I could smell was expensive cologne and man. Warm skin. Oh god, I am so gay. This is hell and I am very, VERY gay. If evil, why sexy hot hot hot? Hormones are making very convincing arguments. Horny brain says let's make terrible life choices.
No! Nooooo. Stop it, Me! We are fucking better then this! God damn it, you trainwreck, you are a ROLE MODEL! Act like one! (But horny...) (NO!!!)
God I was never going to mock the fuckers who hesitates at the "sex n cookies" speech again. Persuasive mother FUCKER!
"Aah~" he sighed contentedly, far too close to a moan for my sanity's liking. Hands having finally found the hidden zippers of my undersuit. Slowly dragging it open. "You are FAR too cute~♡"
"I can't wait to get you off this worthless little rock. Back to ME. I'll have so many WAYS to take care of you~ Backups and rudimentary supports we can set up, at least until I get you something proper."
Horrifying. Deeply Horrifying. REALLY never wanted to know what terrified and horny felt like, but here we are. Distantly, I hear thunder. There's no clouds. A flash of red through the skies. Green followed by metallic purple. Oh thank fuck. Keep his attention. Just... just keep his attention.
"We'll use me as a base. Keep you in stasis. Away from all these ugly, dangerous things~! Just you and me. Perfect. BETTER. Infinite and beautiful. I'll make all sort of bodies just for you to play with. Even let you keep this one! If you want. It'll be a precious memory for us, of where you began. How we met."
A mouth on mine. I can't breathe. Can't escape the arms wrapped around me. My protests do little more then waste oxygen. I feel light headed. Come one, team Alliance! He's here! HE'S HERE!!!
"You're going to be MINE, little Hero. I finally figured it out. What I was missing. It was YOU~♡! My beloved, delicate, little thing~. I'm going to take SUCH good care of you."
"Forever~"
#threepandas#yandere#yandere x reader#yanblr#reader insert#yanderecore#unreliable narrator at first#male reader#superhero reader#bad end heroic collection#bad end heroic collection au#tw sa#the Collective is completely ignoring readers boundaries#do not be like the Collective#gay reader#long post#long read#yandere villain#yandere hivemind#tw death#teammates might be dead#we dont know
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This may be a cold take, but looking back at the living with Aunt May arc, I honestly don't like the idea of Peter hitting Wade being played off as a joke. Even though ppl won't see it that way cus they're both men, it still just rubs off as abusive. I mean, imagine the same scene but what if Wade was a woman? I don't mean to come off as dramatic or rude & I'm truly sorry if I am. I just never understood why couples hitting one another was usually meant to be taken as funny. A nudge or something like that is fine. But full blown hitting or elbow drops kinda sit wrong with me
i think the "what if wade was a woman" line of thought is silly because. sometimes he is a woman. you're throwing a very silly line of thinking at me.
i do think if you're not prepared to see two guys beat the snot out of each other then you probably shouldn't be reading superhero comics. that's kind of what superheroes do. i think "violence is always bad" is a very strange stance for a spider-man and / or deadpool fan to have. i think you're in the wrong place.
most couples aren't spider-man and deadpool. spider-man and deadpool who use violence to communicate because they're bad with words. the text is aware of it.
the text is aware that what Spider-Man and Deadpool have is Not healthy. I’ve never made any allusions to them being healthy. the whole point is that they’re not healthy.
but I kind of only really see a relationship as abusive if there’s a power imbalance. wade is highly trained in like. every martial art known to man. if he didn't want peter to strangle him, peter would be on the floor. he is cool with being strangled. he probably thinks it's funny.
all couples are different. what if they’re a couple of wrestlers and wrassling is something they enjoy and bond over? which is the case for wade and peter. they are superheroes. of course they enjoy to wrassle. I think either of them could easily call it off and say it’s going too far. But they enjoy it and expect it from each other. again. it’s kind of how they communicate. and i think they know each other's limits.
I think they probably have a safeword that they use for any kind of physical thing they have going on, be it sex or wrassling. it might even be “uncle” that seems like it’d be a hilarious way to stop peter in his tracks.
4) what’s depicted in the post you’re being critical of is more tonally akin to like. siblings fighting. it’s a valid way humans interact, like any other. cats play-fight. it’s kind of similar. they’re not actually hurting each other.
(as you can tell by their body language, neither of their tails are wagging, and they’re both smiling, so this is not cruel behaviour. just natural enrichment for spider-men and deadpools to engage in.)
i think a sign of a healthy relationship is knowing each other's boundaries and not crossing them. so maybe there's someone i affectionately put in a headlock. and they think it's funny and they're okay with it. it's part of our language. it's fine if we expect it from each other and we're okay with it. fighting isn't always bad. couples insult each other all the time. if you're not aiming to hurt them, really, it's just fine. not everything is black and white. wade spars with all his partners. they beat each other up. they're boys. let them play.
#sci speaks#your take is utterly freezing anon#imagine. spider-man and deadpool dating and not? beating each other up every now and again? are you kidding? it gets them off.#they love beating the shit out of each other. and it's wholly consensual.
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The Doctor is a tragic character in the best Greek tragedy tradition.
So y'all know how the most common driving factor for intelligence to develop in species is if they're social? (Octopi aren't very social but let's ignore that real quick, the Doctor's a vertebrate anyway so invertebrate intelligence can probably be dismissed as irrelevant) Because after a point, more intelligence isn't really needed to avoid danger or gather food. But more intelligence does make it possible to communicate more efficiently, form more complex social bonds, eventually develop culture. Cue why social species tend to be more intelligent than solitary ones of otherwise comparable lifestyle. And cue why humanity is the way it is.
Now look at Gallifreyans. (I am purposefully ignoring the Timeless Child thing bc I don't rlly believe it and besides, even assuming it's true, The Doctor is similar enough to Gallifreyans to have flawlessly believed himself/themselves/herself to be one for 13+ regenerations, so anything that can be concluded to be true from analysis of Gallifreyans has good basis to be presumed true about the Doctor, whatever the fuck semantics you wanna use) So, Gallifreyans. A species much more advanced than according to DW canon humanity will ever be. More intelligent than humanity. High levels of education and not on the basis of private tutoring. Lives in cities. Has complex language and technology capable of instantly translating pretty much any language of any other species to be understandable to them. (Hell the TARDIS consistently still translates shit to English for the companions while they're outside it.) Complex social structure. That's one fucking social species.
And it gets better. The TARDIS is meant to be operated by a team of six. And even if River was joking about six, it's still clear that it should at least be more than one. Compare the Doctor steering the TARDIS alone to when he was with Susan. I mean, even those two looked like they could use an extra hand. Have you ever seen a human private use vehicle designed with 2+ pilots in mind? Definitely a species more social than humanity.
And the telepathy thing? Hello? Insanely, mind-boggingly social species.
Now take a being this fundamentally social and do something to them so that they see no recourse other than to take one (1) same-species (as far as he was aware disclaimer ig) companion, steal a ship they have little to no clue how to pilot, leave everything and everyone they've ever known and run without ever stopping for breath, no matter how much they miss home, no matter if it hurts. (And I do believe something must have happened to make him run like that, since the beggining, way before the Time War) Have them be scorned, judged, punished, mistreated and rejected by their species, again and again, for ages. Have them love, again and again, only to always lose everyone they've cared about, through abandonment or death. Have them essentially be forced to exterminate their whole species and believe themselves to be the last of their kind, only to be proven wrong by the whole Master situation, which alright is better, but also in some ways is worse. Have them, once again, form deep bonds with companions and once again lose all of them in various varyingly tragic ways until they have no hope left that anyone can ever truly stay for any amount of time even close to satisfactory, that love can for them end in anything but loss and pain. And they can't even avoid love altogether in an effort to spare themselves the inevitable agony of losing loved ones, because they're incapable of not growing to care for those around them. And they can't be without company either, because their sanity goes straight to hell in a handbasket within like,, 5 minutes of being alone.
Let me remind you this is not a human we're talking about. It's a member of a species much more inherently social than humanity. My point?
The Doctor is literally more lonely than the human brain can comprehend.
#*shoves this at any and all unfortunate people*#doctor who#the doctor#classic who#nuwho#doctor who meta#or at least i think it is?#first doctor#war doctor#ninth doctor#tenth doctor#eleventh doctor#twelfth doctor#thoughts tm#og
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Hello!! For the zombie au, I would love to see something (no pressure at all tho - I love you and any of your writing regardless ❤️❤️) where the reader gets overwhelmed at the camp and goes off on her own for a bit, causing Steve to go absolutely insane with worry in the meantime. Totally up to you whether something dangerous actually happens or not. Thanks a ton either way!!
thank you for your request! i didn’t make him as worried as I could’ve potentially so please request again if this isn’t quite what you meant! zombie au steve x fem!reader
There are three different children having tantrums at breakfast. You wince at the sound, hands at your knees and squeezing, looking for relief. You have a headache the size of Mount Everest, in the midst of recovery from a cold that had you weak with fever and aching, and this isn't what you'd pictured when you crawled out of your tent this morning.
Steve had been snoring, and Robin's newly adopted cat had been restless, climbing up and down your bodies like you were nothing more than lumpy pillows, and combined with your headache it had been a little too much to bear. Rather than wake either of them to amend their problems, you saw no harm in getting up for a walk and a moment's respite in the small communal area of camp near the fire pit.
The fire hasn't been lit. For a while you'd all operated on nocturnal time, worried your smoke trail would attract the unkind, but it hasn't been a feasible plan to stay that way with so many young children living in the commune. These days you make very small fires when you need to warm food or boil water, and you try to stick to dry wood to minimise the amount of smoke.
You're not sure what's causing the tantrums, perhaps they're setting each other off, but things are starting to get too much for a second time. Without a friend at your side, it's easy to fall into despair. You're sick without medicine, you've been sleeping on the floor outdoors for weeks and it's making you incredibly sore. The children are here and alone and most of them are orphans now because the unspeakable happened and it keeps on happening. Your life is a tragedy novel, the situation is dismal, and you're not sure life is ever going to get better.
You stand up and walk for the river. The sound of rushing water will cover everything else, at the least, and there's a tree you can climb with minimal effort, a branch you can perch on that's high enough that nothing can reach you while you're overstimulated and distracted.
Today could be a good day. You need to clear your head first, is all.
—
Steve frowns at the empty blankets beside him. He'd prefer you didn't leave without waking him, 'cos he won't be able to breathe properly until he knows you're okay. He wishes he lived in a world —that you all did— where you could go wherever you liked without telling him and he wouldn't need to worry. He hates that he needs to know where you are.
He wiggles his toes in his shoes, trying to wake them up as he stands from the tent and casts his gaze over the camp. There's a little boy crying near the single fold out table they have. A man scoops him up and starts to rub his back, shushing him. A gaggle of girls laugh beside a small fire, camping pans and cans of soup in tongs held over the flames. Dustin and Will are already up, coming back from the river with a bucket between them.
"Hey," Steve says, jogging up to them. He looks around. "Seen Y/N?"
"She wasn't by the river," Will says.
"But we caught you guys a fish," Dustin says.
Steve looks down into the bucket, where a few smaller carp lie dead. "Oh, nice going. You didn't stab them, right?"
"We're humane," Dustin says. "You have to debone your own. We're not doing all the work."
Steve pats his shoulder. "Hey, thanks. Just as soon as I find Y/N."
He doesn't find you soon. You aren't at the campfire. You aren't in the general area surrounding it. You aren't in someone else's tent, and he's sure they all think he's a control freak for checking.
He tries to calm down. Chances are you needed the bathroom and wanted privacy. He isn't freaking out, he isn't freaking out, really, he's just– he's thinking logistically, because nothing good happens where he can't see you.
Steve turns in a frantic circle, eyes everywhere, searching for your hair, your big coat.
He's about to admit defeat and start shouting your name when you chirp up from behind him. "Hey, handsome. Fancy seeing you here."
He turns, sees you all in one piece in your big warm coat, your clean face shimmering with damp.
"Oh," he says, feeling like he's been punched, "those losers lied to me. You were by the river?"
You trudge over long grass to nudge him. "Just for a bit. My head was hurting. I saw them catching fish for a while, they're pretty good, but don't blame them, I don't think they knew I was there."
"Idiots," he says, not meaning it. His head is pounding. "Why, where were you?"
"Sitting on the 'dangerous' tree branch."
He takes your shoulders into his hands. He can see you preparing for a kiss, your eyes closing slowly, your chin lifting just a little. Newsflash! You made him worry and now you're climbing up trees. He shakes you gently, and when it doesn't upset you, he shakes you more. You laugh infectiously and let your head loll back and forth. You don't ask him to stop, but he feels bad, and he hugs you rather than scramble your brains any further.
"You have a conniption?" you ask into his neck.
"Maybe."
"Sorry, honey," you say, which is funny and sweet, because it's the name he always gives you.
He rubs your back. "Hmm. I should give you a speech on not wandering off along and unnecessary risks."
"Don't do that."
"No, I'm going to, actually."
He sits you by the fire and makes breakfast. The speech isn't a speech, really, just an excuse to talk at you, thankful that he still can. You give him all the meatballs from the weird canned spaghetti and he starts to forgive you for the heart attack. You wipe a dab of spaghetti sauce off of his lip with your thumb before giving him a peck, and he forgets what he was talking about in the first place.
#steve zombie!au#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things 4
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Nostraman Nature Sucks: An Attempted Lore Post
Ave dominus nox Night Lords fans. I thought I'd take some time to go through the various NL stories I have to hand and see what I could find out about the animals that lived on Nostramo. Might come in useful for something, who knows?
Sharks and Whales
As a child, on several coastal journeys with his father, he had witnessed the eyeless barrasal sharks that would group together to hunt the great whales of the open ocean. (Night Lords Trilogy)
His voice filters into something savage and predatory, as hungry as the eyeless white sharks of Nostramo’s blackest depths. (The Long Night)
Not a big surprise since they talk about them fairly often and have the Space Sharks as a successor chapter but Nostramo does have sharks. Pretty gnarly-sounding sharks if I'm honest.
I didn't know what "barrasal" meant, so I looked it up and only found one thread on r/40klore that had the same quote in it as above. Hmm.
Assuming it's not a typo or a more straightforward reference to something I'm just not getting, I'd venture a guess that barrasal, understood here to mean of or relating to "barras" like with "abyssal" could be connected to the French Revolutionary leader Paul Barras who is mostly remembered for supporting Napoleon's rise to power before being overthrown by him.
So maybe the older barrasal sharks will make use of younger ones as temporary hunting partners only to be inevitably betrayed and consumed by them. Sounds about right I think.
As for the whales, where do I even begin? I would imagine they're "whales" in name only like in Dishonored:
This does imply the possible existence of a whaling industry at some stage in Nostramo's history, though.
Crows
Jago reached into his pockets, offering a handful of breadcrumbs. Come, he said to the crows. Food for tonight. Flesh, flesh, flesh, they called back. He laughed as several of the black birds landed on his shoulders and outstretched arm. (Prince Of Crows)
‘Yes. I’ve seen them in books. Is a crow a type of bird?’ ‘Black of feather and dark of eye. It feeds on the bodies of the dead, and sings in a raw, croaking caw.’ (TLN)
Breaking news - legion that keeps referring to crows in shocking has crows on its homeworld scandal. "This is outrageous," said local Nostraman cutpurse and skin disease enthusiast Verxaglryn Quickstabber, "here we are trying to make a good name for Nostramo as a respectable hellhole, a place you'd be proud to exile your worst enemy to, and yet we're surrounded by some of the most intelligent and curious birds in existence. I was shanking someone in a back alley the other night and suddenly I saw a crow learning how to use rudimentary tools! Not on my watch, I said to the rapidly cooling body, and I threw my shiv at it. But it just flew away." At this point Mr Quickstabber was obliged to end the interview due to having been eviscerated by the Night Haunter.
I know their communication with Sevatar is happening in a dream but I really like the idea of the crows adapting to Nostramo by developing some kind of psychic hive mind that's also able to be understood by human psykers.
Crag Cougars
A beast of my home world. When next you see one of the Atramentar, look to their shoulder guards. The roaring lions on their pauldrons are what we called crag cougars on Nostramo. It was considered a mark of wealth for gang bosses to be able to leave the cities and hunt such creatures. (NLT)
Every single one of them is Scar from the Lion King, isn't it? An interesting hint about Nostramo's geography though, of which more later.
Rats
Groundcars whisked by, headlights brighter than deep-hive rats’ eyes, the occupants snug and safe behind armoured glass. (Konrad Curze: The Night Haunter)
No surprises here either. Where there's people there's rats after all.
Something with tusks?
The older Astartes grinned, wolf-like and keen, as the Atramentar either side of the Exalted’s throne growled through their tusked helms. (NLT)
This isn't that conclusive because a lot of Chaos Terminators have tusks no matter what legion they are, but Nostramo being Nostramo they probably belonged to a species of giant carnivorous mammoth that ate babies and sprayed acid from its trunk.
Cows? On My Sunless World?
‘They are still of standard human stock, and not to be mourned. What does it matter if the cattle fear the herdsman?’ hissed Krukesh the Pale. (KC:TNH)
This one's a real reach on my part as it's very likely just a turn of phrase, but I noticed it because wouldn't it be slightly more typical to use a sheep metaphor here? Plus it supports the existence of Nostraman cowboys/ranchers/vaqueros which is fun.
No bats?
His helmet bore a new, spread batwing crest in blatant imitation of Sevatar’s own. (A Safe and Shadowed Place)
A sole space was neat: a circle around an iron lectern fashioned in the form of a bat’s outflung wings, which carried a heavy book bound in human skin. (KC:TNH)
Although they appear a lot in the VIII legion's iconography and artwork, oddly enough I wasn't actually able to find a direct reference to Nostramo itself having bats. Let's cover my ass by saying this aspect might therefore have been brought in by the legion's Terran component instead.
Some Nostraman geography
The Hill Folk lived away from the cities, eking out an existence in the mountains. (NLT)
What's worse than living in a Nostraman city? Living on a Nostraman hill, apparently. This seems to just be an idea of ADB's that doesn't come up again but I've always found it quite interesting. Were the Hill Folk as scummy as the City Folk, just with more of a down-home Dukes of Hazzard vibe? Seems likely.
This also supports the idea of Nostramo not being completely urbanised like some Hive Worlds are. In my view its continents might have had a geographical layout a bit like Italy or Scotland where the cities are mainly on the flatter coasts with a more sparsely populated hilly/mountainous interior.
What else? (This part is just me making stuff up so feel free to ignore it. I'm not ADB, I'm not even ADB's hat.)
If the rest of Nostramo's marine life is anything like the sharks and whales then it's fucking terrifying. I would imagine, because it's funny, that a lot of Nostraman food features disgusting industrially-processed fish in some way or another. Like the food in Dishonored but even worse.
Is something wrong, dearest offworld husband? You haven't touched your stale bread, whalemeat and jellied eels.
Since all life on Nostramo seems to be comically carnivorous and aggressive, it would make sense in a 40K kind of way for there to be giant predatory penguins living at one or both of its poles. A bit like the monstrous blind albino penguins HP Lovecraft wrote about.
Last known infrared pict-capture of an early Nostraman settler attempting communication with a juvenile specimen of the native penguin species. There were no survivors.
#ended up mentioning Dishonored a lot#fine by me I love Dishonored#shall we gather for whisky and cigars tonight?#warhammer lore#wh40k#warhammer 40000#warhammer 40k#night lords#nostramo#neves loreposts
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Season three of From has got me screaming, crying and throwing up!! I love it!!
Here's a bunch of random thoughts I have from episode five 🐦⬛ ngl I don't remember any character names so forgive that please lol
I'm theorizing that Fatima is being turned into one of the monsters. She was eating rot and was drinking Nicky's blood. Plus, she couldn't get into the colony house in a previous ep. I'm thinking the eating rot might reflect whatever happened inside the monsters to make their internal organs dry up. Honestly, I think all of the monsters were at some point human and then got turned. I think there was a mass turning sometime in the 60s because of the monsters based on their costume design. Perhaps they figured out how to kill all their monsters but as a trade off they got turned. The life Fatima could be holding is the birth of a new monstrosity.
The town and everything feels like an escape room to me. There are rules the world follows and things get more intense when the people find something new. Like with the phone/radio. There was a man in S1 Jim talked to and now we're talking to Thomas. If all of this was meant to destroy the people then why have someone warn them about Tabitha digging or returning. This world works in a specific way where there are ways to solve the horrible mysteries and active various entities helping the people.
Which reminds me of the whole thing with Tabitha and Victor's mom. It feels crazy how deliberate the town picks people. Plus that Tabatha isn't the only one that has had visions! I think all of the characters who hallucinate fit into roles. Like the town needs someone to see the kids, the symbol or the dried up woman in colony.
Who is the dried up woman??? Is she a ghost like the other dead we've seen or like Boyd has seen? She doesn't feel the same because she looks immediately scarier than the other dead. Maybe she has different motives or a different purpose narratively.
I'm glad Victor is talking to people about the past and thank god it's Sara who can help put puzzle pieces together.
I want a big reunion with Victor, Jade and Tabitha. I like their dynamic and want them to talk to Boyd because I feel like they'll solve some shit. I do kinda love the lack of communication tho. It makes things tense and you kinda know these plot hound characters WILL argue regardless.
I'm going to go crazy when Victor sees his Dad. I feel like the writers might make me cry again lol.
It was so funny seeing Kristi and Kenny have a heart to heart, then cut to a wide showing Jade just off screen. It brought a fun sleep over energy to it. Especially when jade went fuck it, wanna hear some weird shit?
In season 2 I found Randall annoying and a good antagonist. Then, as he got isolated and cicada-d I started sympathizing for him. Yeah he was a dick, but like damn he has nobody in hell. Then seeing him get picked out by the monsters and getting left alive on the ambulance really made me feel for him. I can't wait to see if he'll call out Boyd for leaving him or really how either character will react in episode 6. I hope Randall lives because it'll be a lot more interesting if he does and I want to see more of him.
I want to see Marielle and Kristi be sweet together. I love my sapphics 💚💚💚 I do like how Marielle is proving herself as a nurse and her caring for Fatima is helping her feel grounded. If something goes wrong with Fatima and the baby then I feel like it'll be a big blow for Marielle emotionally.
Julie and Ethan deserve so much better. Their dad, Jim, is obsessed with the mystery and can't pull his head out of his ass to be there for his kids. Plus I bet he's going to be super protective over Tabitha now she's back. Like let your wife be the plot hound and learn your lesson you need to protect the kids you still have. I just feel bad Julie and Ethan are thinking about what will happen when their parents are gone. It sucks.
I want to hug Donna; she is being pushed beyond her limit.
For a sec I thought Donna recognized the new cop character when the cop ran in. But it could also be a Holy shit more shit to deal with kind of reaction.
I bet the cop character has some sort of connection to one of the main characters. Like all of the new characters from season 2 ended up playing a significant role. This cop has to bring something. If not I hope the cop and Tabitha have an interesting relationship since they entered together.
Tabitha can find someone better than Jim and that better person is bisexuality
I like how before they kill minor characters they have tended to be present in episodes prior to their death. Like Nicky's death wasn't on the same level of emotional devastation as Tian Chen dying. But Nicky still felt like a real person in this world who died and not just the red shirt of the ep. The writers are doing an amazing job and I hope that keeps up.
#from epix#from mgm#from spoilers#from season 3#from season 3 spoilers#theory#from season 3 episode 5
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