#babies who have not yet encountered the Horrors

[karnaca78]

Chemical proof of past stages of existence AgNO3

[choiyawnzjun]

୨୧ pairing ; boyfriendsbestfriend!beomgyu x afab!reader

୨୧ genre ; smut

୨୧ wc ; 2345

୨୧ warnings ; cheating, semi-public?, unprotected sex, degradation, masturbation, fingering, orgasm denial ( only once ), creampie

“gyu, please i wanna cum.”

“no, you fucking hold it otherwise i’ll tell your good-for-nothing boyfriend.”

let’s see what happened before this moment.

your boyfriend, soobin, invited you to a sleepover he was having with a few friends. the invitation was a bit last minute. you were texting him and told him you were really bored but you didn’t know he was with his friends right now. after inviting you, you felt a little bad but got over it after remembering that beomgyu would be there.

yeah, so you and beomgyu had been fucking before soobin asked you out. but, you and beomgyu weren’t ‘exclusive’ you were just fuck buddies until he decided to start ghosting you. you were upset by it but moved on after soobin asked you out. you still talk with beomgyu sometimes but they are just minor encounters, for example, when he’s forced to talk to you when you’re both with the group.

however, to your surprise, beomgyu had brought a girl over too. obviously you were surprised because beomgyu had never brought you over to hang out with his friends. sure, you’re dating one of his friends but that was only because you and soobin met since you guys had a few of the same classes you don’t really know what had gotten into you but a tinge of jealousy washed over you when you saw how touchy he was being with her.

“baby, have you eaten?” soobin snapped you out of your trance, waiting ever so patiently for your response.

“oh, no, not yet.” you smiled, following soobin into his kitchen and nodding when he said he’d prepare you something to eat. you lied. you just wanted to get away from stupid beomgyu, his stupid face, his stupid little ‘girlfriend.’ you had never really been jealous during the time when you and beomgyu used to fuck even though you had the suspicion he was fucking other girls.

maybe you were never jealous because you hadn’t actually seen him with those girls you thought he was messing around with but now that you’re seeing him with one, it makes your blood boil. it frustrates you really. but, you have soobin. your angelic boyfriend who never raised his voice at you, always making sure if you’re okay or if you’re comfortable. he was what people would call a ‘perfect’ boyfriend.

so, why were you so concerned with beomgyu and his new girlfriend? sure, soobin had never given you as good an orgasm as beomgyu but he was truly in love with you. so what was your issue?

“___. here, it’s a little hot so just let it cool down for a bit.” soobin pointed at the bowl that was steaming hot on the counter. you decided to try and forget about that other dumb guy and you hugged and pecked your sweet boyfriend, thanking him for making you a meal.

“soobin! come on, let’s watch this new horror movie!” taehyun shouted from the living room, you could hear yeonjun and kai arguing about whatever they’re always arguing about.

you and soobin both went into the living room to watch the horror movie, completely forgetting about the food he made specially for you. it’s okay, you can always eat it later.

you couldn’t even focus on the movie since you were sitting opposite the touchy couple, making you slightly wince in disgust. every now and then, you glanced over at them and they were being so handsy, her giggles were so loud that it somehow only managed to annoy you, the others were too immersed into whatever the movie was.

you looked back at beomgyu, your eyebrows furrowed while you were nibbling the peeling skin on your lips. suddenly, he made direct eye contact with you, looking straight at you out of nowhere. he knew you were irritated, he knew you were mad, he knew you were absolutely jealous of how he was acting with this naive girl he brought.

he smirked back at you as he continued to be touchy, maintaining eye contact with you while the whore he brought over continued to giggle.

you know what? you decided to play his childish game.

first, you led soobin’s hand to your bare thigh, his large hand caressing it while you laid your head on his broad shoulder. beomgyu’s smirk had fallen a little. you’d done the bare minimum with your dear boyfriend and he was already jealous?

after a while, you decided to lie down, tapping your boyfriend to lay down with you on the sofa. he warmly accepted your offer and rested his head on your chest, his hand finding its way to your waist, slightly massaging it.

even from the opposite side, you could see beomgyu’s clenched jaw. he had stopped his physical touch act with his girlfriend, his hand gripping the arm of the part of the sofa he was on tightly, watching you and soobin cuddle. he had to continue watching you both for the rest of the movie, his anger rising every single second.

everyone was starting to get tired so everyone decided to go to fall asleep. you followed soobin into his room and eventually, he fell asleep. but, you couldn’t. you couldn’t stop thinking about how angry beomgyu looked when you started to get a little touchy with your boyfriend. whenever he was mad, he’d call you to fuck his frustrations into you and those times were always so good. you used to purposely make him mad so you’d get a good fuck out of it.

you rubbed your thighs together, the uncomfortable feeling making it even harder to sleep but you got wetter the more you thought about it. you decided to get up and get a glass of water to refresh and relax yourself. you got up and successfully managed to not wake up your boyfriend, tip toed and closed his bedroom door behind you.

as you were getting a glass, you heard someone speak up in a low voice behind you and you knew exactly whose voice it was.

“what the fuck was that? are you tryna get me riled up enough to stuff you with my dick again?” he whisper-shouted, trapping you with his hands, placing them on either side of the counter.

“what are you talking about?” you innocently smiled back at beomgyu, pretending to accidentally graze your knee against his imdick, his jaw clenching as his eyes were filled with nothing but jealous and a slight hint of lust.

“don’t be a bitchy brat.” he scoffed.

“yeah and what? there’s nothing you can do about it now, can you?” you displayed an annoyed expression but you secretly wanted to get a really good fuck out of this, you enjoyed it as much as beomgyu did. but, what about soobin? your perfect, poor boyfriend who was just sleeping peacefully down the hall in his warm covers, naive to what you were about to do with one of his best friends.

beomgyu smashed his lips onto yours, his hands finding their way to your waist, gripping onto them tightly and not wanting to let go. yours and his lips moulded perfectly together, his lips were so soft and plump yet he liked to be rough.

his hands finally made their way to your ass, squeezing the covered flesh, making you gasp which gave him the chance to explore your mouth. your hands travelled to wrap around his neck but he parted your lips, his chest heaving up and down.

“bad girls don’t get to fucking touch me, remember?” you nodded, slightly rubbing your legs together again as he sucked hickeys onto your neck, massaging your tits underneath your shirt.

“shit, you’re soaked.” he laughed, beomgyu had kneeled down and spread your legs apart, being greeted with a wet patch on your shorts. you really wanted to close your legs back again and get a bit of friction somehow.

“gyu, please, i wanna feel you.” you pleaded, trying to keep your tone down to not wake the others up.

“i’ve barely even done anything to you and you’re this desperate?” he laughed once again, tugging your shorts down to reveal your soaked red underwear, rubbing slow circles on the fabric which made you relieved to be receiving some touch.

he stopped which made you turn your head down to look at him, confused. he took you by your arm and led you to the empty living room, plopping himself down and manspreading while you stood there in front of him.

“touch yourself for me and maybe i’ll consider giving you my cock, yeah?” he gestured to the coffee table in front of him, indirectly telling you to please yourself on your own boyfriend’s table.

you were too horny to even care and immediately stripped off your panties and top and rubbed circles onto your clit, hovering your fingers over your hole, teasing yourself to rile you up.

“look at me while you finger yourself.” beomgyu ordered, he was palming his hard on over his shorts, looking you dead in the eyes as you finally slid two fingers into your leaking hole, using your other hand to rub figure eights on your sensitive clit.

“hah, still a fucking slut for your dear boyfriends friend.” he scoffed, watching you squirm under your own touch, you were trying not to shut your eyes at the sensations you were feeling.

“i’m so close, gyu.” you cried softly, looking up at him while he looked back with his dark eyes, his hair was kind of covering them but you could still see it. you could also see that he had pulled his shorts down and was now palming himself over his underwear.

you shut your eyes as the tight knot felt like it was going to snap until..

beomgyu stood up and forcefully pulled your arms away from yourself, pressing your hands together as he pulled them up over your head.

“gyu, why?!” you complained, slightly bucking your hips into the air, looking up at him with watery eyes.

“bad girls don’t get to cum. i thought you knew that.” he stood you up and bent you over the arm of the sofa. you were clueless until he rubbed the tip of his cock over your folds and lined himself up to your hole, finally plunging inside you and bottoming out. you screamed before covering your mouth to muffle any sounds that came out.

“aw, you want soobin to wake up and see you getting your brains fucked out first thing?” he thrusted roughly into you, knowing where your favourite spot is as always, making it hard for you to stay quiet. you clenched at the thought of soobin finding out, you felt guilty but you liked the idea.

“of course you’d want that, you slut. how about i call everyone out here and let them see how well i fuck you?” he suggested, he could see you shaking your head but you clenched even harder at the thought of that. just something about it made you excited.

“i really wanna cum, gyu.” you whined, moving your hips back to meet his rough thrusts.

“nuh uh, whores like you aren’t allowed to cum.” you couldn’t really hear what he said as you felt that familiar knot tightening again but before it could even snap, beomgyu had already pulled out which made you so frustrated that you were already crying.

“gyu! please, i won’t make you angry ever again.” you begged, pulling at your hair to show your frustration while beomgyu just laughed behind you.

“this is the last time i’m ever fucking you.” you called out, you used to say this to him all the time when you were getting angry at him since he knew you were starting to like him but still decided to string you along.

“oh, darling, we both know that’s a lie.” he forcefully thrusted into you again, smoothly gliding in due to how wet you were, making you moan out loud. your eyes rolling to the back and your head falling forwards.

“i do like soobin but we both know he’s not good at making you fall apart on his dick as i do.” his thrusts were getting sharper and faster by the minute, making it harder for you to control the loudness of your sounds.

“no matter how many times you say that.. you always come. back. to. me.” the last three words were in sync with his thrusts.

“isn’t that right, my slut?” he pulled you back by your hair, making your back lean against his chest.

“i don’t think-.. i can take it.. anymore..” you struggled to speak, the pleasure being too overwhelming for you, tears still running down your face as you bit the bottom of your lips to restrict your moans.

“yes you can. now take whatever i give you.” beomgyu’s eyes were furrowed as he chased his high, wanting to fill you up already and make you go back to your sleeping boyfriend while his seed was stuffed inside you.

his thrusts had started to get sloppier which indicated that he was very close, his hands going to your waist and gripping it as tight as he could.

“m’ gonna cum. m’ gonna cum inside you, yeah? make you round with my baby instead of soobin’s, mkay?” you were too fucked out to even care, beomgyu’s hips stilled, warm ropes of his cum spilling into you while you whined underneath him.

“gyu, please i wanna cum.”

“no, you fucking hold it otherwise i’ll tell your good-for-nothing boyfriend.” he was trying to calm down from his high, thrusting into you to keep his seed inside you. you whined, your pussy throbbing from not being able to cum.

beomgyu finally pulled out and found your underwear to give to you, wanting you to put them on to stop his cum from dripping down your thighs.

“___? what are you doing?” you heard your boyfriend’s footsteps from down the hall, rubbing his eyes to see you properly.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Good post about elon musk's twitter acquisition, but why did you spell it gaol instead of jail? I assume jail was what you were referring to.

...

Okay listen. You're not a bad person. I recognise that you are fundamentally well-intentioned, and you most likely did not intend offence with this question, just as I suspect all the other Americans who have seen fit to ask this probably didn't intend offence.

But you must see how incredibly rude this is? You must do. You cannot actually think it's socially acceptable to ask a stranger why they are using their own dialect instead of yours. You must realise how rude it would be for me to send you an ask saying "Good post, but why did you spell it neighbor? I assume neighbour is what you meant."

Here's the thing: I first started reading books in American English when I was nine years old. I loved Point Horror books, and Goosebumps, and the Saddle Club. And as I read those books, in a dialect not my own, with foreign spelling and unfamiliar words I hadn't encountered before, you know what I did?

I dealt with it. I just... coped. I recognised it was a different dialect. And then I spent a while confused as to what a pacifier was because Google didn't exist yet but through context I figured it was a small toy Americans give babies, and then eventually my Dad told me it was a dummy and I went OHHHHH...yeah that makes more sense.

But the point is, I just worked this out. I worked out what a sidewalk was, and galoshes, and teeth-floating in horses, and that 'pants' means something different, and that 'fanny' means something VERY different. I didn't get so confused at words having Z's instead of S's that I felt the need to write to the author and ask them why they did it; because I understood that I was reading a different language from someone in a different country.

I did my time at this particular coalface, is what I'm saying.

I recognise that Americans don't. Harry Potter was an international giant, but it had to be translated into American English so poor little American children wouldn't get confused; ditto His Dark Materials, and I will never understand why the translator for both of those franchises changed the titles of the first books (apparently Americans can't be trusted to understand what a philosopher is, or the Northern Lights.) But even so.

I encourage you, and all other Americans who are feeling the need to weigh in on this, to take some time to ask yourselves why, on seeing an unfamiliar dialectic word, you couldn't just work it out for yourself, but HAD to comment on it and even ask for a justification.

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝕾𝖊𝖙 𝖁𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖞

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: What if I combined them all into one, for maximum efficiency? I blame this one, @kit-williams and this one, @barn-anon for this.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

TW // SMUT/NSFW, NonCon and Dubcon, Baby Trapping, Drug, Yandere Themes, Death, Body Horror, Cannibalism.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| • {Chapter II}

Blasius slowly turns his head to the side from his crouched position. His mouth opening for a better scent thread as he sniffs the air heavily and chuffs.

So soon? He shakes his head, rising from his crouched position. Casting a shadow over the broken body below him. Such an eager little mate.

Glancing back down at the mauled body. Blasius brings forth an main appendage between his armor plates and licks the warm crimson staining his gauntlet. Savoring how rotten it tasted. Something he had almost forgotten about. How atrocious some could be, hopeless and decaying.

Something his little mate was not. Unlike this waste of flesh below him, unable to bring his little mate what she wanted. What she craved for. He can see it in her eyes, in her scent. How could this one not?

He was ignorant of course, too witless to acknowledge her effort. Too endorsed in his time running away from the nest and coming back smelling like another. His little mate was distressed when she figured out what he was doing. Yet, she still believed that he had some “good” left in him. Putting more of her dedication to prove that she was the worthy mate, when it was the other way around.

This false male was the unworthy one of breathing in the same air as his little mate. Undeserving of her attention, her love, her gifts and lingering touches of her commission of fidelity. It drove him crazy that she wasn’t paying attention to him as she poured her devotion into this male who uses her as a side trophy.

He wanted to give his little mate all that he had to offer. He wanted to return that love and attention she put on that failure of a human. He wanted to gift her all the things she found an interest in, but never acted upon it. Craving for that male to gift it to her, to acknowledge her. He wanted to provide what the male would not, could not.

It was no secret this man was a disappointment to any female that he encounters. He can hear the difference between the real and the fake moan’s his little mate does when they are coupled together or how his little mate has to take care of herself afterwards. Having yet to climax herself, but the male was also a disappointment by being infertile. Not that his little mate knows of that.

It is one of the reasons she has gotten a toy however, to sedate her ever growing desires. To finally have something to finish her off and at first, he wanted to rip the toy to shreds. Watch it decay beneath his fingertips, but he stops mid-way of finding the silicone c*ck in her closet. Realizing this singular tool has had a lot more to it than just for making his little mate climax on it.

So, he puts it back in its place where he found it. Leaving it to his little mates next use.

Blasius hums deeply as the appendix of the open body below him bursts, a quiet wheeze coming out of the mouth of the body as it splatters against his greaves. A mix of puss and blood inching down his armor to his sabatons. Another appendage coming out between his plating near his knee to clean up the mess the weak, organic body had made. 

He uses another main appendage to reach inside the cut opening in the males body, pushing underneath his sternum and ribs, providing wet sounds and a squelch each time the appendage slips underneath another rib. Reaching the top of the body’s rib cage, he digs the appendage downwards between the lungs and wraps around the windpipe and tugs. A sickening squelch-like pop sounding out. 

Pulling his appendage back to him. He wraps the rest of his appendage around the organ and lifts it up to his face, observing it. Sniffing it before he rumbles lowly in refusal. Whipping the rotten lung away with his appendage. Hearing it splat somewhere else.

That was not something he would preferably eat. Healthy organs are the better route of eating, they taste better. Saccharine even. They envelop the tongue like thick wine. Not that he found eating humans was a satisfactory, just a tasteful treat. He found far better sweets in this world to sedate his hunger than he would in his own world, but that rotted lung wouldn't give him the treat he was looking for.

Perhaps, his liver would work better? They were always far cleaner than the rest of the body’s he’s taken a snack on before. Maybe a little bitter with their alcohol consumption, but that doesn't deter him, he’s had worse before. If anything, that marinates more flavor into the organ.

Sliding his appendage between the body’s ribs and organs again. Wet sounds followed while he wraps his appendage around the liver twice. Pushing the other organs aside and over the opening of his torso and stomach. Feeling how the male's organs still pulsed with life. His dull eyes still staring up at his figure. A mule this one was.

With a particularly harsh tug, the body’s liver popped out with a sickening crack of his rips flying apart. His sternum breaking in half as bone shards littered inside and outside of the blood spewing body. The dirt drinking up the body’s lifeline like desert sands would do to water.

Blasius purrs quietly, approving of this body’s liver as he sniffs it. His mouth opening to wrap his tongue around the organ and lay it in his mouth before squeezing it with his tongue. Feeling it pop in his mouth and splatter before he chews, savoring the taste and the memory’s it came with it.

At least, the memories with his little mate in them. Ranging from how sweet his little mate was and how remarkable she was. Offering her food, her home to this male. Never blowing up on him when she clearly wanted to. Some of the many things that he hates the male for, but that was not a matter anymore.

Nurgle, and the intercourses with her. He knows he could have done way better than this male, but to envision her nude and submissive before him? His appendages began to salivate, including his mouth.

The things he would love to do to her.

Her scent wafts over him as he swallows hard. Shivering as his appendages become eager, desiring, and aching. Pushing up against his armor almost painfully. Telling him he wasn’t actually envisioning her scent of her arousal at all. This was real.

He takes a step away from the mutated body, not looking back as his appendages inside of him twitch in anticipation. Those wild packs of wolves that roam around here should eat the rest of the body up like nothing by tomorrow's dusk. Leaving absolutely no trace of him to be found.

Blasius uses his appendages to clean the rest of his armor off to temporarily relieve their eagerness to come out while he slowly follows his little mates arousal back to her nest. He knows has some time to get there before she climaxes and he must be presentable to his little mate after all. He knows how… unnerving he could look.

He hears her soft moans before he even enters into the nest. His senses heightened to seek her out through her strong arousal that begged him to fill his little mate as he inhales deeply, leaning down through the front door.

Nurgle, he is here little mate. He is here to provide. Let him provide for you.

He hears her cry out in ecstasy and that makes him move a bit faster through the house. Holding his breath as he moves swiftly between furniture. Quickly, opening the door and lean down through it to his little mates nesting spot.

The first thing he sees is her riding the false c*ck up and down into her core at a fast pace. Her skin glistening with sweat at all the effort to make herself climax. Her heated breaths staining her own skin as she moans out again, closing her eyes and throwing her head back.

He rumbles quietly and takes side steps into the grounds of his little mates nest. Watching as she chased that high. Kneeling down to the ground in front of her bed. Observing how her folds fluttered around the c*ck. Her muscles constricting around it as she cried out. Her juices leaking down the c*ck.

Yet, she doesn’t turn on the toy? Isn’t that what it was for? To fill her up her womb? Isn’t that what she wanted?

So, he turns on the toy instead, a gasp escaping his little mate as the toy pumps his c*m into her. Selection by selection, until there was nothing left in the toy.

Unfortunate, no worries. He has more to provide.

She makes a move to get up from the false c*ck, but he growls. His appendages coming out, spooking his little mate as he takes her by the hip and pushes her back down on the fake c*ck. Watching as she squirms on it, his c*m leaking around the edges from her hole and down the false c*ck.

He didn’t get drug from that questionable Ultramarine for no reason.

She whines at him, and as much as he would love to hear her cry out to him. He sticks an enthusiastic appendage down her throat. Silencing her cry’s as he shoves moves her shifting hips back down onto the false c*ck again.

Shhh, little mate. Let me take care of you. Your… partner won’t be around anytime soon to please your needs like I will. To caress your skin like I will. To protect you like I will. To provide to you like I will.

To have yours and mine procreation.

[r3t4rdp1ckl3s]

NEW IDEA ALERT, for anyone who’s interested in writing out any prompt my mouth spews here we goo.

Been getting infatuated with silent hill recently and the remake for James is so good?? Hello?? They made him older and honestly kind of pathetic looking which I’m all for?? So, I decided to come up with how I wanted the reader to be, either a friend of Mary’s for easy access to his heart, or even better, someone who just carries him while he cries like a baby.

And the ladder was hitting different. So!

Silent Hill x EthanWinters!Reader

The events of Resident Evil, all the horrors the readers encounters are events of the devilish place called silent hill. Every encounter of their psychological torments being that of mental illness. From the Baker family to the Village.

Their daughter now trapped back inside the place the reader refuses to go, yet does it to save their daughter. On the way, (And after losing both pinky and ring finger on the left hand), they find James Sunderland looking for his wife.

Just the reader having Sass like OG!Ethan Winters and just cursing everything out while James prays that the creatures didn’t hear you makes me feel better.

(If yall want to make this idea into a one-shot or anything, TAG ME BECAUSE I WANT TO READ IT)

[jinnie-ret]

oddinary house pt 2

werewolf!lee know x reader

genre: horror

content warnings: blood, d*ad bodies

word count: 1.5k

summary: after an odd encounter with the cyborg, y/n goes to explore what lurks outside the back of the mansion.

ODDINARY HOUSE MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N woke up after what she could only assume was a quick nap. At first, she was perturbed to see that she was resting in a bed that was not hers. Little did she know, she'd be getting very used to this room at Oddinary House.

She couldn't even give herself enough time to process what had just happened with the cyborg, too absorbed into the features of the room she was in. Scratches lined the wooden floors that seemed to be in better condition than the ones that were the foundation of the reception downstairs. On the bedside dressers, she could see traces of what seemed like a fine, golden dust, some of which had traces left on the pillow she had been sleeping on. Disturbingly, there was some blood stains pressed into the floorboards, and when Y/N opened up the cupboard they led to, she gagged and pinched her nose at what was inside.

It was the carcass of a baby goat.

"What the fuck?!" Y/N yelled as she slammed the door shut and backed away onto the bed, face scrunched up in disgust. The harsh motion only caused more issues, as a small trinket tray, shaped like half of a clam, clattered to the ground with pearls spilling everywhere. She tried to pick up the pearls but winced at the slimy feel of them all.

"I gotta get out of here," Y/N shuddered, standing up and as she did, her bedroom door swung open, like it knew she wanted to exit her room. But as she saw the blue wires faintly glowing, and their connections to the hinges of the door, that's when she realised.

"Chan," she shook her head with a sigh. She still didn't know how to feel about what happened, the cyborg electrocuted her and was out of control but in his call state, she could see the human within him, the rational side of him.

Walking down the corridors of the house, Y/N felt herself getting more and more paranoid. There were freakish cackles bouncing off of the walls that were tired with wallpaper peeling off of it. And she could tell Chan was trying to lead her in a certain direction, doors opening for her. If she went down one side of the house he didn't want her to, he would catch her attention by opening and shutting another. She could only abide by his wishes, hoping he had her best thoughts in mind.

It seemed like he did, as he led her to the massive back garden, which seemed to span over many acres of land. The fresh air that surrounded Oddinary House wasn't quite as fresh as Y/N would have liked, it seemed swamp like and mossy, the garden reflecting that in it's dark green appearance. Willow trees overhung what appeared to be an endless lawn, the shadows of the sight hiding what else would lurk in the distance.

"You smell delicious, my pretty," a soft voice purred behind her, which contrasted with his rough looking appearance. A scarred face, a hairy chest, yet kind eyes filled with mischief stared back at her as she jumped in fright and turned around.

"Who are you?" Y/N held a hand over her beating heart, scanning the figure up and down with her eyes.

"I am Minho, darling," he grabbed her wrist and rubbed his face against it before licking it.

"Dude! What the-" Y/N pulled back her hand and looked in disdain at the mutt like creature in front of her, who, by the way, didn't look impressed.

"You've got to let me scent you so I can keep an eye on you, wouldn't want anything bad to happen, would we?" Minho leaned closer to her, his werewolf fangs bared in between his red plump lips. There was a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Sorry, but... you're threatening me? I'm sure Mr Yang wouldn't be too happy to know that his new resident is being coerced," Y/N folded her arms, deciding she wouldn't be so compliant with his wishes despite the obvious power he had over her.

"Oh, my mistake, dear, you are a new resident here, you say? What species are you?" Minho smirked, like he knew something she didn't.

"I'm, ummm, I'm..." Y/N couldn't find the words to create a lie, and Minho could see that.

"You've just been sent here for restoration, haven't you? So I don't see why you're getting all brave, you haven't even been here for a day," Minho folded his arms, and his smile stayed right there, because by Y/N's scent he could tell she was panicking and feeling nervous.

"How long have I been here for?" Y/N glanced at him before looking away, perched on the stairs as he shuffled closer.

"I don't have all the answers sweetheart," his voice drawled, "but based on the fact that Channie malfunctioned later than usual and the time of night... I'd say 4 hours," he said nonchalantly.

"4 hours? I've been here... 4 fucking hours. It feels like I've been here forever," Y/N said exasperated, holding her head in her hands.

"Don't act like you don't want to be here, I bet it's the best sleep you've had in a while," he brushed some hair back from her face.

"And how would you know that?" Y/N batted his hands away, causing him to growl, a rumble coming from his chest as he held her hands down against her.

"Oh, just a good friend of mine, now sit still," Minho brushed off her questions and held her arms down as he began to nudge his head towards her neck, before a beautifully haunting voice was heard.

"Mr Sandman

Bring me a dream,

Make her the cutest,

That I've ever seen."

"Ugh I could kill him!" Minho suddenly growled into her neck, making her shiver in fear from the vibrations of how his voice rumbled.

Minho suddenly leapt up and shifted into his huger wolf form, and growled once more with warning, like he wanted her to wait there. He hunched over before descending off of the stairs and running into the darkness. With a few echoed growls and near roars, the singing stopped. Y/N felt weirdly relaxed after the singing stopped, almost like it was lulling her with a spell.

Minho returned, still in his wolf form, and promptly collapsed on top of Y/N.

"Ah get off!" Y/N yelled out, thinking the beast was about to attack her, yet he just tilted his head at her in curiosity and relaxed against her.

Y/N blushed in embarrassment before once again relaxing her tense body, and that is when Minho returned to his hybrid form.

"You're weirdly skittish, for someone who didn't bat an eyelid at me before," Minho observed, staring up at her with his head in her lap.

"I don't know what you mean," Y/N muttered, looking away from him, her arms awkwardly resting at her sides as she tried to create as much distance as possible.

"Hmmm, habitually avoidant too, you really do have issues," Minho tsked.

"Excuse me? I wouldn't have come here if I was-"

"You only came here because it gave you an opportunity to avoid what you've been trying to run from your whole life," Minho interrupted her sternly, grabbing her arm as his claws stuck into her deeply.

"Ow, Minho, stop, you're hurting me," Y/N whimpered as blood steadily rose to the surface of her skin, pooling around his claws that were still dug into her.

"Accept it, Y/N, you need to accept your fate. Accept what has happened and move on," he growled, nudging his head closer to her once more.

"I can't! I can't!" Y/N cried as she kicked him away, the werewolf grunting slightly as he then grabbed both of her wrists and stared her down fiercely.

"If you can't accept you belong here, your life will be so much more miserable," Minho huffed, some tufts of fur moving slightly from the intensity of how he breathed out.

"Can't beat anything I've been through before!" Y/N wiggled in his grip, her head tilted to the side as she tried to avoid his gaze. But she didn't have to worry about that any longer as he moved away from her, a sarcastic applause sounding out.

"Aw, there you go darling, wasn't so hard to admit was it?" Minho rested against the back door, Y/N instantly sitting up and staring up at him in disbelief.

"What?!"

"It'll all make sense soon. Why don't you get some sleep? I'm sure you'll see it all them," Minho deadpanned, entering the house, door automatically opening for him too, and reaming open until you traipsed your way in yourself.

How could his mood switch up so many times? It was the same with Chan. They were both so unpredictable. First they were welcoming and acting like they knew her so well, then they'd confront her and try and get more answers out of her. She didn't know how to feel. She was almost naive to allow herself to rest comfortably in bed again, when there were clearly more residents in the mansion. More monsters.

But she was a wounded soul who simply always seemed to see the best in everyone, and unfortunately, maybe it was to her own detriment.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hanichani @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @amararosesblog

[teklarn]

your version of the sky - k. bakugou (2)

katuski bakugou x fem!reader 

genre: (it's a series, there's probably everything LMAO)

QUICK NOTE (PLEASE READ)

summary: sarcastic anti-hero, y/n, a young girl, struggles to see the good in heroes after an incident in her childhood. raised as a hidden member of the League of Villains, she enrolls at U.A with a plan to bring down heroes, but finds her greatest obstacle lies in the form of a blonde boy with anger issues.

"your version of the sky was simply different from mine."

warnings:  cursing (the cursing gets more frequent as the story goes on), gore depictions/slight body horror, (slowburn so it might be boring in the beginning lol)

(other parts linked below)

-

02 - CERTAIN THINGS

There were certain things Katsuki knew would never stop pissing him off. 

Just some that he encountered daily consisted of (but of course, were not limited to): 

- The absolutely excruciating, loud and pitchy, nasally laugh of Denki Kaminari 

- The freckled face and baby-like smile of Deku 

- And you. 

You, who was stubborn and irritable and horrid in every way imaginable. And he had to sit there and watch you walk into his classroom, do the same assignments as him, andtalk to his classmates. Because apparently this classroom was open to just about anyone.

Even people who came out of fucking nowhere claiming to be some transfer student or something. 

You were talented, he didn't question it. You were strong and you could manage your quirk surprisingly well. He wasn't about to take that away from you. What he was going to take away from you, however, was the fact that you didn't belong here. 

The school shouldn't have made room for another student in Class 1-A, especially you. 

Yet you were smiley and jittery and everyone's new best friend. 

Katsuki scoffed, averting his eyes to the empty page of his notebook. He busied himself with writing the date at the top of the page and scribbling his name down in messy handwriting, the 'K' of his name slightly larger than the rest of his letters. 

He'd learned to ignore all three of his least favorite things by plugging in his headphones and blasting his current favorite playlist. 

Given the amount of times Katsuki had ignored everyone in class and refused any invites from his 'friends' to hang out, Kirishima and Kaminari had an ongoing joke that Katsuki, although the person with the loudest voice and biggest personality, was introverted. 

The truth was, growing up he'd had many friends. He hadn't ever been introverted in the slightest. He just hated everyone and couldn't stand being around kids his age who still thought normal bodily functions were the funniest shit ever. 

Immature is what he had labeled them as. Nothing more. 

And you were lugged into that sorry group of idiots. Because you laughed with them, failed homework and tests with them, studied with them. 

You were annoying. The most insufferable of them all. 

It was why you were last on his list of things he hated. 

Did you really think he could stand to write your name? Even more than once was a nuisance. You were a nuisance. 

You and your voice and your face and your uniform with the stupid skirt and tie and your stupid smile. 

Katsuki had to admit to himself that he hated you, almost as much as he hated everyone else and Deku...combined. 

But, oblivious to his wandering thoughts, there you were, striding into class like you owned the damned place, greeting everyone that passed by just because. 

And like the idiot your clumsy ass was, you bumped into a table, then proceeded to apologize to the table. And then you laughed at yourself as if no one saw. 

But Katsuki saw. 

He saw the annoying grimace everyone liked to call a smile. 

Call him a grouch, but it was nothing personal. He felt like that towards—mostly―everyone. You and Deku had your own little level of hate for just him, though. 

"You're late to class by a minute again, Y/n," Iida scolded. 

You let out a huff of air. "That's fifteen minutes before Aizawa Sensei gets here." 

Kaminari's arm slinked around your shoulders. "She's right, Iida. If anyone's consistently late, it's gotta be Sensei." 

"Or maybe it's you, because the only person you see coming late is Sensei because you come twenty minutes after he does," Kirishima piped in. 

You let out a breathy chuckle. "It's fine, Iida. He won't care, trust me. He cares if we act like idiots in class―" you elbowed Kaminari in the stomach, "―not if we're late to class." 

Iida pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a finger, pressing his lips into a line. "Get seated. Let's all be ready for when Aizawa Sensei gets here." He swept a commanding hand over the bustling students of class 1-A, to which everyone responded with complete ignorance. 

Most mornings were just like this one. Noisy despite the music blasting in Katsuki's ears plus a late Aizawa. However, instead of the grouchy teacher stumbling in on two hours of sleep and his third cup of coffee, the class was greeted by a familiar booming voice. 

All Might stormed into the room, his chest puffed out like a silly action figure, his smile wide enough to show all his pearly white teeth. 

Katsuki perked up, his back straightened as he tugged his earbuds out and shut his music off. 

"Good morning, Class 1-A!" The hero shouted. 

Students rushed to their desks, greeting him in return. Despite seeing the hero mostly every single day, it was still exciting to most of the students. Especially Katsuki. Not that he'd ever let anyone know how much of a dork he was over the hero (not that he had a single bone in him that was actually, in fact, dorky). 

"Today, we'll be doing something different. We're going to reserve today's classes for training!"

The class hooted with excitement, Kaminari pumped his fist into the air, glad to be away from actual academics. It was hard for Katsuki not to roll his eyes, but he was excited all the same. 

"As your teachers, we've noticed some vast improvement since the beginning of the year. The control of your quirks has improved, as well as the overall power of them. However, we've also noticed that, while individually all of you have improved, this group's collective weakspot is cooperation. Thinking fast on the battle field as a group. Working with one another to take one thing down at a time." 

Katsuki clenched his fists. He heard Deku adjust himself in his chair behind him, stiffening. 

Because All Might was right. 

They were all horrible at that. And cooperation is what made a good hero. Katsuki wasn't oblivious to that, as many people thought he would be. It's not that he didn't see how cooperation benefitted a hero, but he was simply a greater hero when he acted on his own. 

"You'll be split into groups for this day-long activity," All Might continued. "These groups will be completely randomized, so don't assume you'll be with someone you can cooperate with easily." 

Collectively, the class nodded. 

"That said!" All Might grinned once more, his voice picking up its iconic excitement again, "Get your hero suits ready!"

-

UNEDITED! (wc: 1099)

teklarn's masterlists

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Elchanan Poupko

For centuries, rabbis around the world get up on Shabbat Zachor and speak about memory, never about violence. Not once in the past 2000 years of Jewish history – and that is a vast record to draw on – was the Biblical account of Amalek used to evoke revenge. It was always used to evoke memory. The imperative to remember the unprovoked atrocities committed against our own innocent communities.

The name of Amalek was invoked to remind us of the ubiquitous nature of antisemitism, the only hate in the world directed against people who are unknown to those seething with hate for us. People like the Houthis in Yemen who never saw a Jew in their life, yet are determined to destroy the Jewish state; Nazis in Germany who traveled hundreds of miles away from home to kill Jews in Belarus, Lithuania, Hungary, and Morocco even though they had never seen or known much about those Jews, that is the kind of evil we speak about when invoking the memory of Amalek.

In our generation, when speaking about that kind of senseless hate, we speak about the Hamas terrorists who woke up on the morning of October 7th and were willing to gable away their lives and futures to murder and burn alive people like Canadian peace activist Vivian Silver, someone who spent her life driving Palestinians from Gaza to medical appointments in Israel’s best hospitals. We invoke the memory of Amalek when we encounter something so evil it defies any logical explanation.

It is appalling to see how many people rushed to the Bible to judge Israel’s use of the memory of Amalek before looking at its use for the past 2000 years, most notably during the Holocaust.

While Germany starved to death and killed hundreds of thousands of Jews in the Warsaw Ghetto, Jews secretly published a newsletter called Kol Hamidbar in which the emaciated Jews wrote: “Many nations waged war against the Jews and did bad unto them, but Amalek, that is something absolutely different. Amalek put the destruction of Jews as a goal, a program, a method; premeditated, in cold blood, sadistically, according to a plan, organized, and with laws… Amalek and their grandson Haman are not satisfied with the killing of individual Jews…they would like to destroy the entire nation and eliminate Judaism.”

These words ring powerfully to any Jew who has seen what Hamas terrorists did on October 7th. The senseless hate that defies any logic or pattern of human conflict is simply unexplainable. The kidnapping of grandmothers from their homes and burning of babies and little girls alive with no reason whatsoever has no other language.

Jews invoke this language of Amalek when we encounter the world’s oldest hate, acted on with cruelty no human can explain. Jews have done so countless times while remembering the Holocaust and also did so while seeing the evils of Hamas on October 7th.

Like Jews after the Holocaust, the memory of Amalek’s unforgivable horrors reminds us of the need to take action. How does that action look? Years ago, speaking to congregants in synagogue, here is what I said as I spoke of the story of Amalek, and I was not the only one:

“The greatest heed to the call ‘Yidden, Nekama – Jews, Revenge’ inscribed in blood in Slabodka, Lithuania, is not going back to that town and place or to those perpetrators; it is that there are today thousands of students in Israel learning in Yeshivas named Slabodka. It is that we are undeterred in leading proud Jewish lives, laser-focused on the future while refusing to forget the past.”

Jewish revenge never looks like the acts of our enemies. We never follow in the inhumane footsteps of those who committed the unthinkable against us. This is true also concerning the horrors of October 7th.

[ofmoonlitmagic]

( @fragmcntedsouls | billie. )

He'd read the letter, of course he had. There had been none left for him, and that was unsurprising. Their last encounter had made the fae's view of him very clear. But ever since they'd read it, he'd been trying to talk to Billie about it. People in her life were always leaving her, always without the ability to say it to her face. Yet, everytime he brought it up, she'd deflect, distract, and at this point, they were lucky to have use of their legs at all.

Pivoting to a different technique, Briggs was able to talk her into leaving the compound to look at houses for the afternoon. He had meant it, slug-induced or not, when he said he wanted a place just for the two of them. The tours were a mix of selections from Zera and Klaus and ones that actually met the criteria they'd given the realtor. This house, in particular, didn't seem to match either.

Wandering around the upstairs, it definitely felt a little creepy. Historic, maybe, but haunted? Also maybe. "Baby," he whispered, trying to get her attention without alerting the realtor who he'd stopped pretending to listen to when she began talking about school districts for kids they didn't even have. "Baby!"

As she finally reached where he stood, he murmured, "does this seem like the start of a horror film to you or have I been watching too many?"

[cherrypikkins]

FE3H OC Short Fics - Kitt Burgess

some short writings that feature my monster baby Kitt and their somewhat unsettling encounters with some of the students at Garreg Mach, namely Felix, Ashe, Bernadetta, Sylvain, and Claude.

uhhh cw for blood, injury, body horror(!), and death of a tiny animal

be warned and enjoy!

Felix

Kitt had a habit of skipping training, and Felix was always getting on their case. Sometimes he even had his sword out, challenging Kitt to expose the strength he knew was concealed within. They suppressed it like a sordid secret, and Felix was determined to carve the truth out with his blade if he had to.

This time, Kitt made him regret it. Almost.

His knuckles were white on the hilt of his blade as his back pressed against the wall. A massive shadow fell upon him. He had been hoping for a simple sparring match when he cornered Kitt. Never did he expect to be cornered in turn by a fearsome beast of scale, shadow, fang and claw, forcing him to weigh his chances of making it out alive.

"Swordsman," it acknowledged in a voice that was unmistakably monstrous, yet unmistakably Kitt's.

Felix gritted his teeth. His lip curled in a fierce half-grin. "That's some trick," he said, attempting his usual scoff. He could convince himself he was unafraid, if he tried hard enough.

The thing that was Kitt laughed and laughed and laughed. Its throat dripped with ichor and cruelty. Despite his misgivings, Felix found something strangely poetic about this whole scene. It evoked the stories Glenn used to read to him - not of knights and chivalry, but of fearsome monsters… and those who hunted them.

"You asked me not to hold back, and thus I obliged." It appeared to pace calmly, until Felix realized it was moving into an attack position. "But are you sure you're ready for this? I've sunk my teeth into stronger, sturdier knights than you, Swordsman. With neither shield nor armor to protect you, your flesh will only rend quicker."

Those words made his temper flare, banishing all hesitation. "You'll find that I'm no knight, Beast," he growled with fury and anticipation. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

Kitt laughed louder still as Felix kicked off the wall, lunging forward into glorious battle to test his blade. Not against knight or bandit, but against a creature he had seen only in storybooks and nightmares alike.

Ashe

Kitt strolled through the ancient halls of the monastery, humming a vague tune. Their footsteps paused.

Something scurried in the corner. Their instincts flared. With inhuman swiftness, Kitt was upon the mouse within seconds. Amber eyes gazed with listless curiosity as it wriggled helplessly in their palm. The mouse barely had a fighting chance before it was stuffed into the jaws of a beast that was beyond its comprehension.

Kitt wrestled the tiny critter with tongue and teeth before gulping it down, tail and all. There was a moment of uncomfortable wriggling. Then all was still.

Satisfied, they turned a heel - and came immediately face-to-face with Ashe.

The boy's face was white as a sheet. "Kitt… did you just…?"

Kitt's head tilted, eyes forming slits. They leaned in, just an hair's breadth nearer. That slight but sudden movement was enough to make Ashe flinch.

In that moment they both knew - it was too late for denials. The boy had seen everything.

A hair-splitting tension filled the darkening corridor.

Kitt mused, eyes flickering briefly to the side. Then they smiled, as if they didn't have a mouse trapped in their teeth just seconds ago.

"Let's keep this between you and me. Okay, Ashe?" Kitt suggested sweetly. They had probably meant to reassure him, never realizing just how threatening they sounded in that moment.

Ashe dared to meet Kitt's eyes just once, and for a brief second, he caught a glimpse of something horrifying. Something not unlike the ghosts that haunted his nightmares. And yet, he found himself unable to look away.

"R-r-right. Not a soul," he stammered with a weak grin. Not that anyone would believe him, anyways.

Pleased, Kitt gave him one last good-natured smile before pivoting and continuing their way along the corridor, making noises like they were cleaning their teeth with their tongue.

Ashe felt his knees finally give in as he sank to the floor, feeling faint.

Bernadetta

Bernadetta, as usual, was hiding. This time her refuge of choice was a sturdy shed where she huddled in the dark, sniffling and shaking. Right now, she wasn't hiding from anything in particular, but her chest was wracked with the familiar pangs of anxiety and terror such that being, no… breathing out in the open was unbearable…

The door to the shed swung open. Bernadetta shrieked as daylight flooded in. She stared up fearfully at the figure at the doorway, eyes widening.

"K-Kitt?" she gasped.

The figure cursed and - without warning - lunged. Bernadetta screamed as Kitt made desperate apologies that were all but incoherent to her. Something that sounded like 'there's no time to explain' and 'it's happening now', and other nonsense that Bernadetta was too panicked to comprehend while being manhandled out of the shed.

It took Bernadetta a moment to realize that she was effectively being shoved out of her own hiding place, and Kitt had claimed it for themselves. She stared in complete bewilderment as the door slammed shut in her face, with Kitt still inside. The last thing she saw was a look of pain, fear, and regret…

"Kitt? Wh-what's wrong? A-answer me! P-p-please!" Her anxiety was replaced by concern, much to her surprise.

Disturbing noises emanated from the shed as though something writhed in the dark, gouging the creaking wood. Kitt's voice was halfway between a growl and a groan. "Bernie… Whatever you do, don't let this door open… Promise me...."

"Wh-what? Why?! Kitt? Tell me what's going on…" Bernadetta stammered, reaching for the handle.

The entire shed suddenly rattled, as though something massive was trying to escape - violently. The wooden panels threatened to splinter and buckle as it slammed against the door.

"LET ME OUT! TRAITORS! MURDERERS! DEFILERS! HOW DARE YOU! LET ME OUT OF HERE, I BEG OF YOU! BEFORE THEY COME... BEFORE I TEAR YOU APART..."

Bernadetta flinched and dropped to the ground as an otherworldly howl, desperate and enraged, filled her ears.

"YOU CAN'T KEEP ME IN HERE FOREVER, COWARD! WHY DID YOU ABANDON ME? WHERE IS YOUR MERCY? WHERE IS MY JUSTICE? I WON'T FORGIVE YOU! SOMEONE SAVE ME! PLEASE! IT HURTS! I'LL KILL YOU!!"

The sheer hatred and agony in Kitt's distorted voice left her terrified, yet somehow filled with sorrow and pity. She remained rooted to the spot, not understanding anything or knowing what to do, as the monstrous seething finally ceased…

A puddle of black ichor had formed at the door of the shed, staining her shoes and hissing with vapor. All of her instincts told her to run away, fast as her legs could carry. And yet, something in her heart broke as she grappled to comprehend what Kitt must be going through right now.

Her hand grasped the handle of the door before she could stop herself.

Sylvain

Sylvain was the first and only one to see Kitt collapse out of nowhere. He lunged towards Kitt as they crumpled to the ground, seizing violently. Their bones creaked and cracked, and the veins on their arms darkened…

"H-hey! Kitt, you okay? Talk to me," Sylvain pleaded. His hand hovered, desperate to help but afraid to touch. To say that he had no idea what he was dealing with would be an understatement.

"Syl…vain…" Kitt hissed between clenched teeth, clutching and clawing at themselves in pain. "You need to…get away from here… AGH!!"

Alarmed, Sylvain placed a hand on their shoulder to hold them steady. His eyes widened as a black and inky substance pooled at his fingertips. To his horror, the veins on Kitt's arms began to split and crack, oozing black ichor that encased their limbs and form. He flinched as onyx black scales began to erupt, rippling and razor sharp. Then came the spikes, jutting out painfully as they burst from Kitt's very flesh…

Sylvain drew back, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight. It was a scene that hit too close to home, for it was strikingly similar to the way Miklan had transformed…

By now, Kitt had curled up into a kneeling position, shuddering as they braced themselves against the waves of pain. Covered in black scales, they were nigh unrecognizable. Then came the fangs, and the claws. Amber eyes blackened with corruption and caved in until they were wide and hollow as the void. Black ichor gushed out, a horrifying mockery of weeping…

"Goddess…" Sylvain inhaled sharply, staring at the otherworldly being that Kitt had become. The desire to help overrode the instinct to run, and so he reached out tentatively with a hand. "Kitt… I'm so sorry. Does it…does it hurt?"

The creature screamed at him, its voice shrill and unearthly, no longer a human but a being of rage and agony and hatred and sorrow. The moment it lashed out, Sylvain refused to turn away. Instead, he braved the creature's claws and fangs to pull Kitt into a tight hug.

Kitt's eyes widened as Sylvain murmured into their ear. "It's okay… I'm here. I'm with you. I won't leave you alone. I'll help you get through this - I promise."

Sylvain tightened his grip as Kitt wept ichor and blood upon his shoulder.

Claude

Kitt sighed with weary relief as they sank into the water, submerged to the shoulders in its cool and calming embrace. The scales that covered their body glittered faintly under moonlight. There was something about the monastery pond that soothed the familiar pains of their transformation. Their limbs still ached and their veins still burned, but it was far more bearable this time. Most important of all, however, the peace and serenity of this moment. For now, the monster within was quiet. Resting. Basking.

Kitt's mind began to drift, reflecting on past events. It was but a second too late before they noticed the sudden footfalls approaching.

Claude arrived just in time to see something dip beneath the surface with the slightest splash. He smiled wryly.

"Not quick enough this time, I'm afraid," he reprimanded light-heartedly.

Hiding under the rickety dock, Kitt felt the wood above their head creak with Claude's weight.

"We both know that there's no use hiding, friend. So why don't you come out and say hello?" Claude's eyes flitted across the pond hopefully. "No? Well, it was worth a try…"

His voice was more playful than threatening. But Kitt knew how Claude's mind worked. Even if it was a game, he played to win. And he was just as determined to find out the secret of the monastery's pond as much as Kitt as desperate not to let him.

Claude heard a faint splash underneath his feet and smirked. "Aha. As I expected, looks like our little water bug is hiding under the pier. Let's have a look at you…" Kneeling down on the dock, he braced his hands on the edge of the planks and craned his head down to have a look underneath…

A pair of cold, scaly hands grabbed the back of his collar and pulled with startling strength.

"Woah, wha-"

He barely had time to react as his quarry turned the tables on him, hauling him head-first into the pond with a resounding and unceremonious splash.

Claude's head submerged briefly before breaching the surface with a gasp. His arms flailed in the water as he looked around wildly for the one that had pulled him in.

Aside from his splashing, the pond was tranquil and empty. He was alone. But not quite.

He turned his head to the sound of hurried footsteps, running away barefoot from the pond. A familiar figure fled in the distance, but escaped into the shroud of night before he could fully recognize them.

Soaked to the bone, Claude clicked his teeth in good-natured frustration. A clever play, he admitted with a quiet grin. He was zero-for-one now, but the game had just begun.

There is now a part 2 :)

[emeraldtart]

TWST X No Straight Roads (ft. 1010!Yuu)

After the whole Rock Revolution fiasco, Neon J decided it's time to introduce a new member to 1010. Also because his twins (Eloni and Haym) wanted a baby sibling.

So he made Kaw*. The crew's newest member, rapper, and the mysterious one. Since they're recently made, they're as sentient as MK-I androids, but it doesn't stop their fellow troops and captain from trying to indulge them.

Unfortunately, an incident involving Kliff messing with Neon J and DJSS's newest equipment caused them to be pulled to Twisted Wonderland to everyone's horror.

Facts about 1010!Yuu

Their name is a pun on two things 'kau' which is one of the ways to say 'you', which is in a more casual way as opposed to 'awak'. And also 'kaw' which means strong tasting beverages.

They're not sentient (yet)

They are made as a foil to Rin, from their colors (white vs purple), roles (leader and loner) and 'age' (oldest and youngest).

Their weapon is a gun, and they have a sniper gun installed in their arms. Think of Lady Nagan from MHA.

They haven't met Bunk Bed Junction. Their siblings were planning to meet with them until the incident.

Throughout the prologue they're just standing there like ._. while the chaos is happening around them. Nothing in their programming make them equipped with this situation.

Flirt with the first years + dorm leaders because they mistake them as a crowd of fans.

Their base programming/personality can be summed up as: quiet.

Shroud brothers are equal part excited and confused. Excited because holy crap, an idol robot!? That's cool! Confused because who installs weapons inside a idol robot!?

They're waterproof, as they are a navy robot.

Idia realizes he's a hypocrite because he did the same thing to Ortho.

Kaw is mostly expressionless until they see a large enough crowd and they suddenly flirts with them.

They can sing and dance, and sometimes sings the last word of a sentence.

Neon J made Kaw more durable, as he had learnt from his encounter with B2J during the Rock Revolution. They won't explode from people screaming, and they also have a sort of mini-Qwasa in their body that they can charge by listening to Funky House and Dance-pop/Europop music, which they can do simply be performing a song in that genre.

They're also charged by cheers like their brothers.

Since they came from a world that revolves around music, their body occasionally moves to an invisible tempo, even when they are standing still.

Started to show signs of sentience during Heartslabyul when Riddle insulted Neon J. They began to insult him back in a way only robots can, and everyone who heard their words were scared of what they said.

In Savanaclaw they started to 'have fun' playing a magicless form of Magishift with the first years and Savanaclaw.

Octavinelle was when they became fully sentient. They suddenly cried when the Savanaclaw students tried to pick a fight with them, as the stress finally catch up with them.

Everyone freaks out because 1) They can cry!? and 2) Oh shit, they're crying.

It also happens that at that moment Neon J managed to connect with Kaw's hologram projector + communicator, sees his metal child crying with an awkward Savanaclaw gang and Grim trying to console them, and began to threat the ever-loving daylights out of the students.

After all is said and done, Kaw explains everything and Neon J starts making plans on how to take out Azul.

Kaw: Dad. You can't do that, that's illegal.

Neon J: I know. But just so you know, your older brothers are not going to- wait. Did you just call me dad!?

Kaw: Wha- I- I mean SIR! *salutes*

Neon J: Oh my gosh... TROOPS! YOUR FELLOW SOLDIER HAS GAINED SENTIENCE! COME TAKE A LOOK!

Kaw: DAD, NO!!!

Savanaclaw looking at Neon J and thought: Oh Sevens, they weren't kidding when they said their captain(dad?) has a sonar for a head.

Jack may or may have not taken a picture of Neon J's hologram and send it to ADeuce (the picture got photobombed by the rest of 1010)

Let just say that Crowley's on NJ + 1010's hit list when they found out what he made their youngest member do.

The list of people increased when Neon J brought it up to NSR meetings.

B2J found out through 1010 who were hanging out with them.

Crowley is on sight in Vinyl City, beaten only by Kliff.

When VDC rolls in, they join in the training as emotional support.

Kaw managed to find a loophole in Vil's Unique Magic so they sneak in some sweets for the VDC team.

Trein noticed Kaw's disappointment at not being allowed to join in on VDC, being a 10-feet 10-inches tall robot and all. He pulled some strings with Crewel and allow Kaw to join in on the closing ceremony with their brothers.

Let just say that Kaw aced both history and potionology as a thank you gift.

As for Malleus, he was interested in this tall robot. A being made of metal, that sings and dance and powered by music? Very interesting indeed.

Their talk at first is very brief because of Kaw's lack of sentience, but then they started to become more human and eventually Malleus pointed out how they have become much more than what they were born for; a living being.

Kaw calls him Abang (Big brother/older brother).

Rin felt that his status as the eldest brother is being challenged.

[akariamai]

Soldier

Part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x soldier!reader

Word Count: 1258

You and your assigned associate, Jeffery, were stationed near the riverbank. The purpose, as the two of you were told, was to prevent those who were infected from leaving the city and spreading the infection. Your superiors were clueless from where the virus originated from. They only knew ordinary people were turning into rabid beings, attacking anyone to spread their infection.

You’ve chosen to become a soldier due to your excessive need to help others. Your naïve mind wanted to bear the monstrosities of the government in the name of the people. The screams, off in the far distance, only grew louder as an airplane was going down, crashing into the ground, would haunt you till your last breath.

“What happens now?” Jeffery was terrified of the potential future for humanity. This was a nightmare no one would ever wake up from. Your superiors did not know what to do. It was prevalent when they gave rushed orders to your fellow soldiers.

You simply shrugged. The events before you reminded you of a movie. It seemed like the beginning of a zombie apocalypse with humanity failing to overcome the dead. From the ripples of chaos spreading like an infection throughout communities and the dead, who laid in their wake, rose once again. You wished it was a bad dream from watching horror movies the day before. You hoped to wake up in your bed to start your morning routine all over again. You knew; however, you would never wake up from this nightmare. It was your new reality.

You saw bodies running steadily towards you and your partner. Blood drenched their clothing and mouths. “Stay back!” He shakingly yelled. They continued to grow closer, too close for comfort, leaving you no choice but to shoot. Without hesitation, two loud gun shots rang throughout the river. Their bodies fell to the ground, completely lifeless, leaving the two of you in shock for a moment.

You both shook it off, knowing it was not the time to dwell on what happened, and moved on. You patrolled the area without too many infected coming your way. Everything seemed to come to a standstill. The screaming quieted it down, leaving you with the conclusion that people were dead, leaving the infected victorious. The world was coming to an end with few survivors left to rebuild society. The number of deaths will further increase as order no longer exists.

Your mind wondered if people made it out of the city, narrowly avoiding and escaping death, and what orders you and Jeffery would be given once you’ve encountered survivors. As the government didn’t have readily available information or knowledge of the infection, you feared you or Jeffery were infected and didn’t know it yet.

You walked in silence. Lost in your thoughts without leaving yourselves vulnerable. The unknown hovered over you like a darken cloud ready to overwhelm any happiness you might experience. The comms was silent as well. Leaving nothing but questions about the welfare of your comrades and the higher ups. They could be dead for all you knew or worse infected.

The sound of a door slamming open caught your attention. It could be another infected making their way towards you, but it could also be survivors. You and Jeffery ran towards the sound, guns in hand, hoping to save but eliminate it if necessary.

A man, carrying another in his arms, rushed out of the building. He didn’t see the two of you yet, too busy attempting to outrun one of the infected. It was approaching them ever so steadily, so you shot it dead. He stopped once he heard the gunshot and turned around slowly. His eyes searched for his savior, in this case, saviors.

Once you were able to see clearly, you noticed he was carrying a young and terrified girl. She was shaking terribly in his arms, and he comforted her softly, almost too faint for your ears to hear, “It’s okay baby. You’re safe.”

He must’ve recognizing you were a part of the military and inched closer to the two of you. Jeffery, not trusting them, aimed his gun towards them. “Don’t move!”

He did as he was told before pleading for one of you to help her, “My daughter’s hurt. Her ankle.”

“Stop right there!” Jeffery yelled again; his gun more focused on their figures.  

“Easy now.” The man said, “We’re not sick!”

“Please stay right where you are.” You announced to the man, wanting to console the man and his daughter, “Call it in.” As much as you wanted to apprehend your partner, you didn’t want to panic the survivors in front of you.

Jeffery turned on his comms, “We got two civilians by the river, one of ‘em injured.”

The comms suddenly rang to life as he got a reply. They asked where the injury was located and the type of injury the civilian acquired.

“Ankle, sir.” You cut in, “Most likely a sprain. Worst case a broken bone.” From the angle you were at, the girl didn’t look like she was bleeding from her ankle. You hoped it was nothing too serious. The survival of doctors was currently unknown as this time.

Both you and Jeffery waited for an answer. Waiting for a location to a safe location to move them to. “Eliminate them.” It was not the order you thought would be given.

“I’m sorry, repeat?” You desperately wished you misheard the orders. You hoped the orders would change after they were repeated.

The man must’ve sensed a change in the air. His instincts were telling him something was amiss but there was no one except the two of you. He eyed the way your body seemed to shift the more the person on the other side spoke. He couldn’t make out what was being said so he tried to shift closer.

“Hey!” Jeffery frustratingly yelled, “No one told you to move.” Gunfire began to ring out in this distance.

“Yes, sir.” It seemed Jeffery was slowly accepting what he needed to accomplish for the orders given. Every breath he took, every shudder from his body, welcomed the news unexpectedly. He was preparing to kill innocent and unarmed civilians without deteriorating his mental state. “Yes, sir.”

You knew you couldn’t go through with it and maybe Jeffery knew as well. The two of you weren’t close but have crossed paths before the beginning of the end. He was willing to bear the burden of killing innocents for you, but your soul will still be tainted with their blood if you allowed them a meaningless death.

“Sir...” The man reiterated his stance, “we are not sick!”

The girl screamed as several gunshots rang out. Jeffery’s body fell to the ground swiftly, a body once filled with life now lifeless. It was you who saved them. It was you who would be haunted by killing Jeffery.

The man was scared for his daughter, his reason to live, and almost lost her to the command of a person. He owed you, “Thank you.”

The girl was bewildered by what had occurred. She was too shocked to thank the person who saved her and her father.

A cover story would be easy to fabricate. Jeffery simply was infected and tried to attack you after you “killed” the civilians you’ve found. “Take her. Get out of here.”

“Thank you so much.” Tears threatened to escape his eyes at the thought of losing his only daughter. He owed this soldier for their kindness; he owed them everything.

Masterlist

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

honestly something that’s really sunk in as i’ve gotten older is the horror of elrond and elros’s kidnapping. i am not throwing away “And he cherished them and love grew after between them” per say, but given that the general disposition of the silmarillion’s narrator is to be at least fairly generous towards the fëanorians, i’m quite leery of what this summation might be emphasizing and what it might be glossing over or leaving out entirely. i mean, the end of that sentence is “...but Maglor’s heart was sick and weary with the burden of the dreadful Oath." even if we were to completely ignore the mass killing, that doesn’t exactly call to mind someone who’s in peak shape to be a parent.

incidentally, i’m not someone who needs (or wants!) to fit all my headcanons into canon; nor am i the best-equipped to pull from source material and slam it down like an idealistic young lawyer turning the tables in a courtroom drama. i’m busting out the dread quotation marks in this case only because i’m aware that a large portion of silm fans i’ve encountered consider this particular line, not justification exactly, more like....reassurance, i guess, that ‘kidnap fam’ was okay, maedhros and maglor were good caretakers and treated e&e just fine, etc etc.

and i just.... i don’t think so. i know i used to enjoy the sweeter interpretations of the m&m-e&e relationship (my very first fic was actually in that œuvre, and while i’m definitely not able to look back on her yet without pulling some really awful faces, i’m trying my hardest to respect that she meant a great deal to me at the time and to cherish her as a monument to my tinier self), but now i just can’t picture them as anything other than profoundly dysfunctional and messed-up.

regardless of whether or not they knew about eluréd and elurín (i’m inclined to think they didn’t, or at least didn’t fully, at the time of the third kinslaying; i like the idea of elwing wanting her babies to have the safe and happy childhood she was denied), e&e would’ve had to know that m&m

functionally orphaned them

destroyed their home (and had previously destroyed their mother’s home)

separated them from their community and culture

could kill or harm them at any time

removed them from everything familiar and indicative of safety

even without processing the full scope of these actions (which they probably didn’t immediately, given that they were like six) that’s terrifying. it’s terrifying to me. and i don’t think any amount of pity or even affection could’ve fully removed that terror.

this isn’t to say that i don’t think they had happy or fun or joyful moments (i think they did), nor is it to condemn maglor as a guardian (honestly i think he generally tried the best he could given the circumstances). but i think that alongside that there was fear and confusion and resentment and grief and so much parentification of the twins.

[autisticrosewilson]

First of all, you have given me so much to work with, thank you so much. Second of all, I’m really glad you could see where I was going with Grant’s real test not actually being about killing Slade. Third of all, I absolutely love what you’ve suggested with the powers and I am currently designing met gala esque outfits for the trio and Tara’s specifically is really fun to play around with. I’ve been thinking to show they’re becoming more divine I’ll change their hair and eye colours but not their faces for the most part. I was drawing robin Jason with Natalia and decided he should have brown eyes and a crooked nose from breaking it as a kid but once he returns his eyes get weird (eg go blue and occasionally other colours), a patch of his hair went white and he lost all of his scars. Also, I think the closer they get to divinity I’m gonna draw cracks on their body that glow with their specific colours just to hammer home how they’re shedding their mortal forms.

With Tara being able to see the strings of fate, I though it’d be fun to give her a harp and then with Jason having the see no evil trait I thought it’d be fun to give him weighing scales since lady justice wears a blindfold. Idk what to give Grant though. I mean probably a weapon of some sort or maybe a Shepard’s crook that he can turn into a scythe to play into the sheep, wolf, Hunter thing.

With Jason and Tara’s splintering, I love the idea of them making fun of Grant for being the baby god. He hasn’t even had a cult yet, gosh he’s so young. Also them being besties just holds a special place in my heart.

And I just came up with this, of course they have parallels to the trinity but in universe rumours of their existence have been around much longer than Bruce, Clark and Diana. They’re the big three of the justice league but these guys are justice gods. So they start calling themselves the justice trinity but then people get confused about which trinity is which because the justice leagues’ trinity sounds awfully close to the justice gods’ trinity. The new all caste is certainly more distinctive branding but the point isn’t to be distinctive, it’s to be petty.

I'm so glad my unmedicated rambling helped!!! And I'm so excited for the outfits!!! I love when characters start becoming less and less human, when they're stuck in that uncanny valley spot of not quite human but not entirely Other, when they lose control and the cracks start to show...um I should probably give a warning for slight body horror elements. Not in the gore sense, in the "this body is not made of flesh and there is something divine clawing it's way out". Uh also there are teeth. Just. Teeth. I dipped into a little bit of cosmic horror at the end there because I wanted to cover my bases with mixed mythologies

Jason, with his defined splinters, is usually depicted with three faces in ancient texts. The Child, gaunt and dark colored, is said to appear before the downtrodden and impoverished. The few stories remaining tell of kindly people who give him an offering, and in exchange he reveals his true form, with his crown of golden ivy and beautiful strong wings to gift them bounties of food and water and riches. Other stories tell of not so kind encounters, where The Child witnesses an injustice - typically against women or children - and again reveals his true form, one with clawed hands and a mouth dripping with blood. Scholars argue what the wings looked like, but whichever All-Caste member annotated it before has compared their likeness to either a Robin or a Shrike.

There's also The Ghost, He appears young at first glance, but his hair is wirey and gray, his eyes milky and unseeing, in bloodied armor he greets the souls of the damned as they're delivered to him, and with scarred hands he wipes the tears of children taken too soon. Accounts of this face are few and far between, but all of them are entrenched in sorrow.

Finally there is The Soldier, scarred and still smoking from the ruins of battle he emerges, giving voice to the weak and resources to the needy. He champions revolutionaries and philosophers first, a strategist who delights in the liberation of the people from corrupt systems. Accounts of him usually come from times of famine and war, and he was particularly popular with poor villages, who would mark the graves of their dead with the symbol of his sword as offerings. For some reason or other, he got particularly popular with the youth, girls and boys both seemed to pray for him and leave him offerings.

The way these manifest on Jason is subtle at first. I could go the body horror route, but I won't. Yet. Instead I think his splinters show up as reflections, shadows, imprints. The faint echo of bell-like laughter when Jason does a move he learned as Robin, the image of a younger him with longer hair and unblinking eyes staring at him in the mirror. It gets worse when he gets the blades, the white streaks his hair, the swirling mark covers more of his skin every time he uses them, he trails the scent of smoke and blood behind him like a signature. His scars...they should disappear. They have for everyone else who used the pit, but instead his skin starts cracking. Any place he's ever been scarred glowing cracks break up his skin. He can't feel them, but he's always aware of them, the meaning behind them, the divinity literally leaking through his body. His eyes aren't brown anymore. They aren't even green. He looks in the mirror and they are copper, molten and burning. He tries his best to keep his mask on.

What do you think of when you imagine the word divinity? Probably something like Tara. Something with skin carved from stone, with moss and fungus crawling up her legs and snow laden shoulders. They say her hair is made of swirling clouds and the sun and moon are her eyes.

Some say she's a nymph although no one knows what kind. You're just as likely to see her name among the naiads as the dryads. Whether flowers bloom where she dances or waves crash when she sings, she's known to be more vicious towards suitors than her sisters.

Others have said she's a faerie, who takes the faces of lost daughters and lovers, slipping into their places seamlessly, forcing unruly men to pay their dues. Others say she's a shifter of a different sort, with a shawl of feathers and a crown of twine and gems. Stories range from men trying to steal her coat (and paying dearly) to lost children returned safely home on the back of a swan.

Tara doesn't think about it at first, the way gravity tends to cede to her, she doesn't notice how sunflowers turn their faces towards her instead of the sun. She doesn't notice the way her face...shifts. it's imperceptible really, and it's not like she looks in the mirror all that often. But everyone around her notices it, on some level, the way her expressions are off. A little too exaggerated. The way her limbs bend just a little too oddly. The way she never looks quite the same as she did the day before, the way she picks up features from the people around her the way she picks up rocks from ground to add to her collection. Clay molded subtly into the image of those she loves, a museum of everyone she's ever met. She does notice when her hair starts going white at the ends, the strange way her hair starts to curl unnaturally, almost floating. She's not so upset about her eyes, the deep blue of her father that has glared down at her day after day, she has changed her hair, her face, her language but she could not change her eyes. It seems she didn't have to, when she wakes up with one a little too silver to be gray and one a little too gold to be brown. And then her skin starts splitting, a cavern made from a broken rib and ravines made by the slashing of knives. She doesn't even bleed anymore, they never scab over. They crystallize, amber like ambrosia, like ichor. Her body a geode waiting to be cracked open to let the thing within finally break free.

They know the least about Grant, whatever he used to be. Half written scrolls, torn or burnt or simply stopped abruptly, illegible journal entries with symbols never recorded in any known language, half finished sketches where the details are never quite clear. A few things are usually consistent though, signs that he's been there, usually from hunters down on their luck or the particularly old and sickly. First, the howling. Like a wolf or a storm, although later accounts would add that it occasionally sounds like a mechanical whirring. Then the rabbits, dead and gutted, but not a trace of blood. Piles of them left in heaps on doorsteps or windowsills. Some have reported knocking at strange hours or finding teeth in their homes, a mix of human and animal. There is one photo on record, the most recent thing in the archive most likely, of claw marks on the side of a barn, too big and oddly serrated, certainly not from anything native to the area. Elderly that report these phenomena typically pass from heart problems within the week, according to some of the old medical files.

Grant came back wrong. Physically, at least. He knows that he's still himself for the most part, dying didn't make him a selfish asshole he did that all on his own, but...but something is wrong with him. It's the way lightbulbs flicker when he's mad and how cameras, no matter the quality, never quite get a clear shot of him. The way Joey can't ever grasp his features, not fully, the details slipping from his mind like water. The way eyes on his face slide right past, unable to look directly at him. It's in the gray spreading from his roots and his eyes too wide and dark to belong to something human. It's the way death clings to him like a second skin, sickly and pallid turning the tips of his fingers gray. His teeth are starting to feel too sharp for his mouth, and he hears things no one else does, whispers of voices that Are Not and Can't Be. The worst part is the orange, liquid candlelight under his skin, lighting up all of his veins and scars, webbing together like the world's worst game of connect the dots. No, there is no mistaking him for something human, so there is no reason to try. If this is his fate then he will take it, because he is not a sheep and he will not be a wolf, he is a hunter, and he is hungry.

[bbygirl-aemond]

no shot this just came up on my facebook, the absolute whiplash i got from this

why viserys did alicent and aemma both dirty

oh wow haha. i mean i guess i've been wanting to talk about this for a while. here is the link to my original post, and here is the link to the facebook post shown above. i made the mistake of checking the comments on this post and there are two frequent responses that really worry me. the first is that alicent was not raped because viserys only had sex with her out of "duty". the second is that aemma was not slaughtered because viserys had "no other choice." so let's go through why these takes are straight-up horrifying. massive cw going forward for detailed discussion of rape of a minor and graphic death during childbirth.

viserys did not marry alicent out of duty, but out of selfishness. if he was marrying purely out of duty, he would have married someone from a powerful house whose allyship would have been politically useful. he would have married someone the small council would have approved of. he did not do this. he married alicent, at his political expense, because he wanted to fuck her. he chose her specifically, because he wanted to fuck her. even though she was a child. even though she was his daughter's best friend. even though he'd likely watched her grow up.

he wanted to fuck her, and so he married her.

now, let's give viserys the benefit of the doubt and say that he didn't realize alicent didn't want him. this still doesn't change that he raped her. if a person is forced into having sex against their will, it is rape. the rapist's intentions do not factor into this. if the rapist does not get consent, that is on them. viserys is the grown man in this situation. he is the king of an entire continent with a thousand times more power than alicent will ever have. he has been king for over a decade at this point, and he knows the power he wields. it is his responsibility as the person in power to not abuse it. if he is ignorant to the power dynamic between him and alicent, it is willfully so, and for his own benefit. so he can feel less conflicted about raping her.

lastly, let's talk about what viserys does even after he realizes he's been raping alicent. this takes place in episode four, right before he fires otto. he admits he realizes alicent was placed by his side by otto, and not because she genuinely cared for him. aemond and daeron have not been born yet.

viserys had this realization, and he had two children already, including a son who fulfilled his duty to be spares, and he still raped her enough times over multiple years to force two more children on her.

i really pray that any survivors of rape who encountered these types of comments about viserys find healing and peace. and i hope that the people who made those comments never find themselves the victim of a man who insists he didn't know what he was doing but who absolutely should have.

next, let's talk about aemma, and the argument that viserys didn't slaughter her because she was "going to die anyways." i do acknowledge that aemma was beyond saving at that point, but let's list the facts of the situation. i'm drawing directly from the script here.

the maester told viserys that the technique he was proposing would involve "cutting directly into the womb." viserys knew the agony and sheer body horror of what the maester was proposing, and he did it anyways. aemma asks "what is happening?" and is clearly afraid. when viserys tells her they're going to get the baby out, she asks "how are they…" showing that she wants more information about what is about to happen to her, and that she is not giving informed consent (or any consent at all). he does not give it to her. and she dies screaming, in absolute agony, literally split in two with strangers' hands inside the wound tearing her further open, screaming "no" over and over. begging her husband to stop them.

he does not stop them.

viserys did not give aemma the chance to even give informed consent about what was happening. he ignored her pleas to be spared this horrible fate because he did not care about what she wanted. and he let the maesters keep her alive and conscious throughout the procedure so that she suffered every last agonizing second of it.

"but he had to save the baby-" if he knew aemma was a dead woman walking, why didn't he give her a quick, merciful death before letting them cut into her? the whole thing happened in seconds, so you can't try to tell me it would've hurt the chances for the baby. was aemma arryn always going to die? yes. did she have to die afraid, and in literally unimaginable pain, while begging those killing her to stop? did she have to die being butchered like an animal? no.

viserys did that to her, and that was his choice. i stand by what i said.

i hope that none of the people justifying viserys's decision are ever allowed to make a decision about another woman's body. i hope that they take a long, hard look at their willingness to justify causing unnecessary agony and terror to women. both for their sake, and for the sake of the women in their lives who deserve their respect and understanding.

paddy considine is a wonderful actor, and made his portrayal of viserys as compelling as possible. but "he's got charisma" should simply never trump the very real harm his character chose to cause these poor women. it genuinely terrifies me that to so many people, it does.

if anyone ever encounters comments like the ones i mentioned, please link them to this post. this sort of mentality has helped to justify the harm of countless women and will continue to do so if we don't challenge every form it takes. there is a real world impact here and i cannot stress this enough.

[samwisethewitch]

Let's Talk About Religious Appropriation and Christianity

In my previous post, I talked about why religious appropriation matters and why it genuinely impacts pagan communities when culturally Christian authors take our gods out of context. Now I wanna talk about why it doesn't go the other way.

Religious appropriation is when someone from a dominant religious group misuses symbols or practices from a marginalized religion. (Reminder: marginalized means an identity or group is treated as insignificant or pushed to the periphery.) There is an element of power imbalance to appropriation.

In the United States, where I live, Christianity is the dominant religious group. Even Americans who are not practicing Christians themselves are culturally Christian -- they were raised in a culture where Christianity is assumed to be the default. In other parts of the world, the dominant religion may be another faith like Buddhism, Islam, or something else. I will be talking about Christianity in this post because that's my experience, but just remember that this isn't about theology so much as social influence.

Someone living in a culturally Christian society might use Christian symbols or elements in their art for a lot of different reasons. It might be a sincere expression of faith because the artist is a Christian (see: C.S. Lewis). The artist might use Christian symbols because they are widely known and will be easily recognized by their audience (see: It's a Wonderful Life). The artist might use Christian symbols outside of their original context or in a subversion of that context to create comedy (see: Dogma by Kevin Smith) or horror (see: Rosemary's Baby). And finally, they might use those symbols as a critique or satire of organized Christianity (see: Children of the Corn).

In any of those cases, it's highly unlikely that the depiction in this media property is going to overshadow actual Christian practices. Christianity is one of the most widely practiced religions in the world. There are over 2 billion Christians globally. 63% of Americans identify as Christians. (And that number is at an all time low! In older generations, it's higher!) And because of the built-in hierarchy of Christianity, there are designated spokespeople who can speak up to set the record straight.

For a real life example of this, let's think about The Da Vinci Code. For those who don't know, The Da Vinci Code is a thriller novel written by Dan Brown. A major plot point in the story is the reveal that Jesus Christ had sex and fathered children with Mary Magdalene, which is considered a heresy by most Christians. The Catholic Church specifically had a huge negative reaction to Dan Brown writing about them spending 2,000+ years intentionally covering up the fact that Jesus fucked.

And The Da Vinci Code had a HUGE impact on pop culture. The book has sold over 80 million copies in 44 languages. The movie stars huge actors like Tom Hanks and Sir Ian McKellan and was the second-highest grossing film of 2006. The massive protests drew even more media attention. This story was a very big deal for a couple of years.

And yet, most people in America and other culturally Christian countries still know that, in Christian lore, Jesus died without marrying or fathering children. Even people who have read The Da Vinci Code or seen the movie can usually recognize that the whole Mary Magdalene thing is fiction. Even if someone did come away thinking Jesus getting it on with Mary Magdalene was historical fact, they're likely to encounter other media at some point that will depict Jesus as unmarried.

More people do not believe Jesus fucked because of The Da Vinci Code. It has not significantly changed popular perceptions of Christianity, or even of Catholicism. This is because Christianity, and specifically the Catholic Church, are huge institutions with both the power and the platform to set the record straight.

Marginalized religions do not have that kind of power or platform, which is why religious appropriation is a much bigger deal for us. In general, you can't appropriate something from a dominant cultural group.