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cripplecharacters · 11 months ago

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The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media

[large text: The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media]

If you followed this blog for more than like a week, you're probably familiar with “the mask trope” or at least with me complaining about it over and over in perpetuity. But why is it bad and why can't this dude shut up about it?

Let's start with who this trope applies to: characters with facial differences. There is some overlap with blind characters as well; think of the blindfold that is forced on a blind character for no reason. Here is a great explanation of it in this context by blindbeta. It's an excellent post in general, even if your character isn't blind or low vision you should read at least the last few paragraphs.

Here's a good ol’ tired link to what a facial difference is, but to put it simply:

If you have a character, who is a burn survivor or has scars, who wears a mask, this is exactly this trope.

The concept applies to other facial differences as well, but scars and burns are 99% of the representation and “representation” we get, so I'll be using these somewhat interchangeably here.

The mask can be exactly what you think, but it refers to any facial covering that doesn't have a medical purpose. So for example, a CPAP mask doesn't count for this trope, but a Magic Porcelain Mask absolutely does. Bandages do as well. If it covers the part of the face that is “different”, it can be a mask in the context used here.

Eye patches are on thin ice because while they do serve a medical purpose in real life, in 99.9% of media they are used for the same purpose as a mask. It's purely aesthetic.

With that out of the way, let's get into why this trope sucks and find its roots. Because every trope is just a symptom of something, really.

Roughly in order of the least to most important reasons...

Why It Sucks

[large text: Why It Sucks]

It's overdone. As in — boring. You made your character visibly different, and now they're no longer that. What is the point? Just don't give them the damn scar if you're going to hide it.

Zero connection with reality. No one does this. I don't even know how to elaborate on this. This doesn't represent anyone because no one does this.

Disability erasure. For the majority of characters with facial differences, their scars or burns somehow don't disable them physically, so the only thing left is the visible part… aaand the mask takes care of it too. Again, what's the point? If you want to make your disabled character abled, then just have them be abled. What is the point of "curing" them other than to make it completely pointless?

Making your readers with facial differences feel straight up bad. I'm gonna be honest: this hurts to see when it's all you get, over and over. Imagine there's this thing that everyone bullied you about, everyone still stares at, that is with you 24/7. Imagine you wanted to see something where people like you aren't treated like a freakshow. Somewhat unrealistic, but imagine that. That kind of world would only exist in fiction, right? So let's look into fiction- oh, none of the positive (or at least not "child-murderer evil") characters look like me. I mean they do, but they don't. They're forced to hide the one thing that connects us. I don't want to hide myself. I don't want to be told over and over that this is what people like me should do. That this is what other people expect so much that it's basically the default way a person with a facial difference can exist. I don't want this.

Perpetuating disfiguremisia.

"Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk

[large text: "Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk]

It's quick when compared to my average facial difference discussion post, bear with me please.

Disfiguremisia; portmanteau of disfigure from “disfigurement” and -misia, Greek for hatred.

Also known as discrimination of those mythical horrifically deformed people.

It shows up in fiction all the time; in-universe and in-narrative. Mask trope is one of the most common* representations of it, and it's also a trope that is gaining traction more and more, both in visual art and writing. This is a trope I particularly hate, because it's a blatant symptom of disfiguremisia. It's not hidden and it doesn't try to be. It's a painful remainder that I do not want nor need.

*most common is easily “evil disfigured villain”, just look at any horror media. But that's for another post, if ever.

When you put your character in a mask, it sends a clear message: in your story, facial differences aren't welcome. The world is hostile. Other characters are hostile. The author is, quite possibly, hostile. Maybe consciously, but almost always not, they just don't think that disfiguremisia means anything because it's the default setting. No one wants to see you because your face makes you gross and unsightly. If you have a burn; good luck, but we think you're too ugly to have a face. Have a scar? Too bad, now you don't. Get hidden.

Everything here is a decision that was made by the author. You are the one who makes the world. You are the person who decides if being disabled is acceptable or not there. The story doesn't have a mind of its own, you chose to make it disfiguremisic. It doesn't have to be.

Questions to Ask Yourself

[large text: Questions to Ask Yourself]

Since I started talking about facial differences on this blog, I have noticed a very specific trend in how facial differences are treated when compared to other disabilities. A lot of writers and artists are interested in worldbuilding where accessibility is considered, where disabled people are accepted, where neurodivergence is seen as an important part of the human experience, not something “other”. This is amazing, genuinely.

Yet, absolutely no one seems to be interested in a world that is anything but cruel to facial differences. There's no escapist fantasies for us. You see this over and over, at some point it feels like the same story with different names attached.

The only way a character with a facial difference can exist is to hide it. Otherwise, they are shamed by society. Seen as something gross. I noticed that it really doesn't matter who the character is, facial difference is this great equalizer. Both ancient deities and talking forest cats get treated as the same brand of disgusting thing as long as they're scarred, as long as they had something explode in their face, as long as they've been cursed. They can be accomplished, they can be a badass, they can be the leader of the world, they can kill a dragon, but they cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to peacefully exist with a facial difference. They have to hide it in the literal sense, or be made to feel that they should. Constantly ashamed, embarrassed that they dare to have a face.

Question one to ask yourself: why is disfiguremisia a part of your story?

I'm part of a few minority groups. I'm an immigrant, I'm disabled, I'm queer. I get enough shit in real life for this so I like to take a break once in a while. I love stories where transphobia isn't a thing. Where xenophobia doesn't come up. But my whole life, I can't seem to find stories that don't spew out disfiguremisia in one way or the other at the first possible opportunity.

Why is disfiguremisia a default part of your worldbuilding? Why can't it be left out? Why in societies with scarred saviors and warriors is there such intense disgust for them? Why can't anyone even just question why this is the state of the world?

Why is disfiguremisia normal in your story?

Question two: do you know enough about disfiguremisia to write about it?

Ask yourself, really. Do you? Writers sometimes ask if or how to portray ableism when they themselves aren't disabled, but no one bothers to wonder if maybe they aren't knowledgeable enough to make half their story about their POV character experiencing disfiguremisia. How much do you know, and from where? Have you read Mikaela Moody or any other advocates’ work around disfiguremisia? Do you understand the way it intersects; with being a trans woman, with being Black? What is your education on this topic?

And for USAmericans... do you know what "Ugly Laws" are, and when they ended?

Question three: what does your story associate with facial difference — and why?

If I had to guess; “shame”, “embarrassment”, “violence”, "disgust", “intimidation”, “trauma”, “guilt”, “evil”, “curse”, “discomfort”, “fear”, or similar would show up, because it's always the same shit.

Why doesn't it associate it with positive concepts? Why not “hope” or “love” or “pride” or “community”? Why not “soft” or “delicate”? Dare I say, “beauty” or “innocence”? Why not “blessing”? “Acceptance”?

Why not “normal”?

Question four: why did you make the character the way they are?

Have you considered that there are other things than “horrifically burned for some moral failing” or “most traumatic scenario put to paper”? Why is it always “a tough character with a history of violence” and never “a Disfigured princess”? Why not “a loving parent” or “a fashionable girl”, instead of “the most unkind person you ever met” and “total badass who doesn’t care about anything - other than how scary their facial difference is to these poor ableds”? Don’t endlessly associate us with brutality and suffering. We aren’t violent or manipulative or physically strong or brash or bloodthirsty by default. We can be soft, and frail and gentle and kind - and we can still be proud and unashamed.

Question five: why is your character just… fine with all this?

Can’t they make a community with other people with facial differences and do something about this? Demand the right to exist as disabled and not have to hide their literal face? Why are they cool with being dehumanized and treated with such hatred? Especially if they fall into the "not so soft and kind" category that I just talked about, it seems obvious to me that they would be incredibly and loudly pissed off about being discriminated against over and over... Why can't your character, who is a subject of disfiguremisia, realize that maybe it's disfiguremisia that's the problem, and try to fix it?

Question six: why is your character wearing a mask?

Usually, there's no reason. Most of the time the author hasn't considered that there even should be one, the character just wears a mask because that's what people with facial differences do in their mind. Most writers aren't interested in this kind of research or even considering it as a thing they should do. The community is unimportant to them, it's not like we are real people who read books. They think they understand, because to them it's not complex, it's not nuanced. It's ugly = bad. Why would you need a reason?

For cases where the reason is stated, I promise, I have heard of every single one. To quote, "to spare others from looking at them". I have read, "content warning: he has burn scars under the mask, he absolutely hates taking it off!", emphasis not mine. Because "he hates the way his skin looks", because "they care for their appearance a lot" (facial differences make you ugly, remember?). My favorite: "only has scars and the mask when he's a villain, not as a hero", just to subtly drive the point home. This isn't the extreme end of the spectrum. Now, imagine being a reader with a facial difference. This is your representation, sitting next to Freddy Krueger and Voldemort.

How do you feel?

F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]

[large text: F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]]

As in, answers and “answers” to common arguments or concerns.

“Actually they want to hide their facial difference” - your character doesn’t have free will. You want them to hide it. Again; why.

“They are hiding it to be more inconspicuous!” - I get that there are elves in their world, but there’s no universe where wearing a mask with eye cutouts on the street is less noticeable than having a scar. Facial differences aren’t open wounds sprinkling with blood, in case that's not clear. Also, despite what you clearly think, unless your setting has like twelve people total, there will be multiple people with facial differences in it.

“It’s for other people's comfort” - why are other characters disfiguremisic to this extent? Are they forcing all minorities to stay hidden and out of sight too? That’s a horrible society to exist in.

“They are wearing it for Actual Practical Reason” - cool! I hope that this means you have other characters with facial differences that don’t wear it for any reason.

"It's the character's artistic expression" - I sure hope that there are abled characters with the same kind of expression then.

“They’re ashamed of their face” - and they never have any character development that would make that go away? That's just bad writing. Why are they ashamed in the first place? Why is shame the default stance to have about your own face in your story? I get that you think we should be ashamed and do these ridiculous things, but in real life we just live with it.

"Now that you say that it is kinda messed up but I'm too far into the story please help" - here you go.

“[some variation of My Character is evil so it's fine/a killer so it fits/just too disgusting to show their disability” - this is the one of these cases where I’m fine with disability erasure, actually. Please don’t make them have a facial difference. This is the type of harm that real life activists spend years and decades undoing. Disfiguremisia from horror movies released in the 70s is still relevant. It still affects people today.

"But [in-universe explanation why disfiguremisia is cool and fine actually]" - this changes nothing.

Closing Remarks

[large text: Closing Remarks]

I hope that this post explains my thoughts on facial difference representation better. It's a complicated topic, I get it. I'm also aware that this post might come off as harsh but disfiguremisia shouldn't be treated lightly, it shouldn't be a prop for your whump whatever to play around with. It's real world discrimination with a big chunk of its origins coming out of popular media.

With the asks that have been sent regarding facial differences, I realized that I probably haven't explained what the actual problems are well enough. It's not about some technical definition, or about weird in-universe explanations. It's about categorizing us as some apparently fundamentally different entity that can't possibly be kind and happy, about disfiguremisia so ingrained into our culture that it's apparently impossible to make a world without it; discrimination so deep that it can't be excised, only worked around. But you can get rid of it. You can just not have it there in the first place. Disfiguremisia isn't a fundamental part of how the world works; getting rid of it won't cause it to collapse. Don't portray discrimination as an integral, unquestionable part of the world that has to stay no matter what; whether it's ableism, transphobia, or Islamophobia or anything else. A world without discrimination can exist. If you can't imagine a world without disfiguremisia in fiction... that's bad.

Remember, that your readers aren't going to look at Character with a Scar #14673 and think "now I'm going to research how real life people with facial differences live." They won't, there's no inclination for them to do so. If you don't give them a reason, they won't magically start thinking critically about facial differences and disfiguremisia. People like their biases and they like to think that they understand.

And, even if you're explaining it over and over ;-) (winky face) there will still be people who are going to be actively resistant to giving a shit. To try and get the ones who are capable of caring about us, you, as the author, need to first understand disfiguremisia, study Face Equality, think of me as a human being with human emotions who doesn't want to see people like me treated like garbage in every piece of media I look at. There's a place and time for that media, and if you don't actually understand disfiguremisia, you will only perpetuate it; not "subvert" it, not "comment" on it.

I hope this helps,

Mod Sasza

#mod sasza #disfiguremisia #face difference #mask trope #writing trope #writing resource #writing reference #writing resources #writing advice #writeblr #writing tips #long post #burn survivor representation

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milesfingers · 1 year ago

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Literally Outlast: a horror game containing extremely heavy and mature themes in which a guy can't mind his own business and finds himself imprisoned in a mental hospital full of patients disfigured due to cruel experiments carried out by a multinational company for pure profit. Subsequently he finds himself losing two fingers, being chased by the aforementioned crazy patients, running away from naked people, pressing buttons, pulling levers, chasing a priest, probably contracting 29492 infections because NO ONE HEALED THE WOUNDS ON HIS HANDS and progressively losing his sanity because a nano-ghost needs a host to exist. IN ALL THIS we follow the story of the snitch who informed him of all this and who almost gets castrated by a giant with mommy and daddy issues

Some of y’all: Haha confort game goes brrrrr

#me included tbh #outlast #miles upshur #outlast game #waylon park #outlast whistleblower #outlast meme #red barrels #eddie gluskin #richard trager #chris walker #outlast shitpost

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nothorses · 8 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/rq-lif3styl3s/752949689078431744/bahhahahagaggag

Yeah okay, I've got juice in the tank for this one.

So, for anyone who doesn't wanna click links from anons, this is a link to a post about "transracial" and "trans-abled" people. Specifically, this post is arguig that transracial and transabled people Are Valid.

I mostly see people dismiss these ideas as obviously wrong and shitty rather than actually engaging with them, and like, fair. But I have the energy right now, so fuck it. Let's learn!

The thesis of this post is "gender, race, and ability are all basically the same, so being trans-gender/racial/abled is all the same." I think this demonstrates a fundamental lack of understanding of all of these concepts, and frankly, I think this is a deeply incurious way of thinking.

This person clearly has at least a surface-level understanding of transgender theory, and they've gone ahead and applied that understanding to everything else without doing any deeper thinking or learning. That sucks. Gender, race, and dis/ability status are all very much social constructs on which systems of oppression are based, but these are social constructs with very different histories and frameworks.

For example: pretty much every culture has had some concept of "gender"- most of them resembling the "male/female" binary we're familiar with today- since time immemorial. Gender roles are fluid with time and culture, and trans identities (and even culturally-sanctioned gender roles/terms) have also been present as long as gender itself has. Gender in various cultures has not always been a construct on which systems of oppression are based, nor is that system of oppression always a patriarchy.

"Race", by contrast, is a concept that sprung up in the 17th century as a justification for colonization and slavery.

Another example: "Disability" is a more modern term, mostly referring to a system of power and one's position in it. There have always been disabled people, but they haven't always been thought of as disabled, and a lot of things we consider "disabilities" in our present culture weren't always thought of as disabling (i.e. pathologized). A lot of things that are disabling are also not thought of as "real disabilities", and a lot of people who are disabled don't think of themselves- and thus are not thought of- as "disabled". It's fluid in a very different way than gender is fluid.

Racial identity is also fluid for very different reasons than the others: a lot of the reasons someone might experience fluidity in their racial identity have to do with their context, and their individual relationship to white supremacist power and oppression.

I don't think there's anything wrong with acknowledging or exploring the overlap between these things; I personally am super interested in the overlap between cissexism and ableism, and I've explored it a lot in the last couple of years of schooling! Medicalization and pathologization, medical needs and gatekeeping, the understanding of bodies as "natural" and "pure" vs. "unnatural" and "disfigured"- it's all fascinating.

But learning more reveals a lot of differences between gender and transgender folks- things that are entangled with power, but do and have existed separate of power- versus race and disability, which describe relationships to systems of power on a very fundamental level.

It's a mistake to ignore the differences like this, and it reveals more ignorance than anything. Learn about the histories, complexities, studied frameworks, and lived experiences of trans people, disabled people, and people of color! Learn about what makes us similar, and what makes us different! Learn about the issues unique to each of us, and the conversations we're having about theory and systems of oppression!

I'm here for the inclusive mindset, and also, like, there's a reason people treat these things differently. Please learn.

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ataraxiaspainting · 1 year ago

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Presentiment of Massacre.

Yan Geto x F Reader.

Synopsis: Of all the people in your village, why were you the only one spared?

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation, major spoilers for the start of JJK S2, some not SFW implications, and violence/slight gore.

Word Count: 900.

*~*~*~*

“You can see them, can’t you?”

The man is tall, so much taller, so much taller than you who is curled up into a ball in the corner of your home, to hide, an intention that was more or less popped like a balloon. He is so much taller than the corpses littering the floor with their blood, their vomit, their tears. Gazing at the disarray with a mix of revulsion and frustration, he found himself devoid of any trace of it on his person, his exasperation evident as he muttered the word monkeys repeatedly along with quick, muffled talks of cleaning and baths and stains.

“Miss. You can see them, can’t you? The beings around us.”

As he receives no response once more, he pivots. A terrifying grin adorns his face, an unsettling visage that seems to transcend the boundaries of humanity. It appears as if it is a mere appendage, capable of detachment at whim, akin to a magnet or a metallic fragment. This facade, a deceptive guise, conceals the malevolent demon lurking beneath its surface.

“...I… Please… Please just ge-”

“Answer my question.” Interrupting, he maintains a sickeningly warm smile and tone, though his words possess an entirely different temperature. They are demanding. Frigid. For nothing burns quite like the icy cold. “I know you can, from the way you are looking around the room and hiding. Stop pretending you can’t.”

Even when his gaze was averted, his vigilance never wavered, always deciphering the motives behind your awkward, apprehensive behavior. He possesses an uncanny ability to interrogate as if presiding over a courtroom, posing probing inquiries that unveil the heart of the matter. Every response you offer seems to hold the power to determine your verdict: a life of freedom, confinement, or even death.

Opting for honesty may prove beneficial. It could potentially strengthen your position, although there are no guarantees. Contemplating the act of praying, you ponder its efficacy, hoping for assistance from any divine entity that may exist. You certainly wouldn't want to become another disfigured body within the grasp of the beast behind the man's monstrous jaws.

So, after weighing all of this out, your lips part instinctively.

“Ah, I knew it. Unlike these monkeys, you are worthy.” As a reaction to those two sentences, about a million thoughts and questions sprout in your mind. “You will be spared if you join us. You do not want to be rotting on top of these filthy monkey corpses, do you?”

In an instant, you vigorously shake your head, causing a fleeting sense of dizziness, as you promptly respond to his inquiry this time.

“I’ll… I’ll… do it.” As anticipated, the act of surrendering proved to be a complex experience, simultaneously challenging and effortless. This situation resembles a collision of opposing forces, resulting in a powerful and explosive event. However, due to an innate instinct and the familiarity acquired from past encounters with your inebriated father, you find yourself succumbing once again. “Anything.” You don’t think of saying that word specifically, and you regret it later than sooner. “Just… Just please. I want to live.”

A gentle pull brings you to your feet as his hand reaches out to grasp yours.

“I am glad you accepted my conditions. Very glad.” The man brushes his side bang out of his face, his grip becoming slightly looser. “I am Suguru, Suguru Geto. Now, what is your name, my new recruit?”

“...[First].” You whisper your name so softly, questioning whether Geto caught it. “Do I… Do I have to use that too? Because…”

“No, you don’t. Though if you want you can be taught to wield something, something weaker than this.”

He responded to your question as if you were a young child inquiring about the purchasing of infants from a retail establishment. “...But do I have to?”

Geto shook his head and called the beast with two waving fingers. It is a dragon, you think, from how long it is and how it has large white scales, even whiter teeth, and long golden hair partially stained red, and how its large blue eyes stared into your soul.

“That depends on the future.” He says, his grip dwindling even further. The monster disappears with another wave of his hand. He chuckles. “Depends mainly on what you do, and why you do it.”

“…What do you think I would do?”

“You’re not good at hiding your emotions, you know.” Something creeps up your thigh, and before you have the chance to scream he puts his hand on your mouth and his other hand grabs one of your arms. “That gives way to not being able to hide your plans very well. You’re planning on running the first chance you get, aren’t you? Before you do such a silly little thing, I must tell you that I can give you protection, and luxuries beyond your imagination… everyone and everything will bow down to you.”

He looks down at the slimy red thing with at least six eyes, the build and size similar to that of a basketball. Its lips were sucking on your flesh with words like love leaving them in between moments. That was the answer to your unspoken question.

“All you have to do is follow me, okay? No matter where I go, follow me. Do that, and your life will be so much better.”

From the look in his eyes, you already know he had already made the decision for you.

#aya abstractions #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere geto #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk x reader #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #yandere geto x reader #yandere suguru #yandere suguru geto

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astra-ravana · 3 months ago

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The Dark Dead & Baneful Necromancy

The Dark Dead are restless, tormented, and tormenting souls of the earthbound dead. Usually they are the real culprit behind a "demonic" haunting. These human souls because of their lack spirit and their material obsessions, cling to their earthly existence, either consciously or subconsciously. As such, they are in a state of perpetual suffering. They become one of the lost, lonely shades haunting this world. A necromancer can employ or manipulate these spirits for a number of purposes, depending on the type of spirit.

The Murderous Dead

Shades of the hateful, violent, and murderous who, in life, possessed an immense bloodlust and rage and in death continue to seek out bloodshed and the demise of others.

Uses: Can provoke or even perform acts of violence including causing bloodshed and death. (Note- These spirits can easily turn on the one who employs them)

The Murdered Dead

Spirits that have remained in a shocked state, mind and soul, because of the violence that led to their death and often are bound to haunt their place of demise. They don't always seek direct revenge, but they are most often confused and enraged, as they relive the terror of their deaths.

Uses: Can cause significant harm and often create/bring confusion, anger, mental illness/anguish, and madness. They can also influence the minds and emotions of the living, provoking violence and fear.

The Burnt/Burning Dead

Spirits of those who burned alive and in death still remain in the flames in their minds, suffering pain and horror. This includes a sub-category that are obsessed pyromaniacs or arsonists in life that caused harm through flame. They take delight in the destruction, agony, and pain they have, and still cause. In either case they tend be obsessed with fire.

Uses: Can cause pain, terror, madness, and horrible accidents, disfigurement, and death by way of fire.

The Drowned Dead

The restless souls of the drowned which often stay attached or even trapped within the bodies of water that claimed their life. There they can often be the cause of drowning incidents.

Uses: Known to be effective bringers of nightmares, insanity, and in some cases, serious breathing issues/suffocation.

The Insane Dead

Lunatics afflicted with mind-shattering mental illnesses in life which carries over into death binding them to a earthbound nightmare. These spirits often do not grasp their own deaths due to confusion and insanity. As a result they will continue to haunt their familiar surroundings, people, or objects that they were attached to in life. Their existence is one of perpetual madness.

Uses: Cause nightmares, confusion, and full blown insanity/psychosis. They can literally destroy the minds of living people as they form strong attachments which makes their lunacy rather contagious.

The Plague-Bearing Dead

Ravaged mentally and physically because of painful and contagious diseases, these shades remain obsessed with sickness and their own suffering, even in death. They are in a constant state of anguish.

Uses: Can afflict the living eith symptoms of their own diseases and manifest said illnesses physically. This is because the seed of any sickness is first planted in the subtle planes before it manifests in flesh.

The Vengeful Dead

Those amongst the Dark Dead who in death remain obsessed with some just or unjust quest for vengeance. It's recommended one have their own obsessive sentiments concerning revenge in order to work with these retaliatory shades.

Uses: Effective when merciless and harsh justice is sought and they are especially good to employ when the target has wronged someone in a similar manner as the spirit was wronged. (WARNING!- Shades such as these are very dangerous as they can easily possess the minds of those who call upon them. One must possess sufficient knowledge and fortification before spirits such as these should be worked with.)

The Suicides

The souls of certain suicides who in death continue to obsess over the circumstances of their deaths and their own choices. They may remain bound to futile, self destructive impulses.

Uses: Possess the power to cause sorrow, madness, anxiety, depression, or to provoke self-destructive/suicidal tendencies.

The Unrepentant Dead

The souls of hardened, impetitent, and merciless criminals who remain obsessed with their vices and material attachments.

Uses: Called upon within certain contexts in order to combat and escape the law and successfully commit crimes, usually in exchange for offerings pertaining to their base desires and addictions that still influence them in death.

The Lonely Dead

Tormented souls of the miserable, regretful, and lonesome who may not have ever had anyone to care for or love them. This real or perceived lack of love is thought to be the cause of their unnatural attachment to the realm of the living. Some of these spirits may suffer in death because of some wrongdoing, which they obsessed over in both life and death.

Uses: Most often called upon in order to cause regret and sorrow, or in order to afflict a target's senses with all their own sufferings until they do as demanded of them. These tormented spirits can also cause depression, self destruction, or in some cases, even provoke suicide.

The Cursed Dead

Shades who died as a result of some form of sorcery or witchcraft directed at them in life. They often still remain bound by the same curse in death, a captive of whatever element caused their unnatural demise.

Uses: Only accessible and useful if one knows how and why they became cursed and by which powers they, in death, are kept subjugated. This knowledge can be learned through a variety of esoteric means or by speaking to (or actually being the one) who cursed the spirit. Abilities are dependent on the conditions of the curse and manner of death.

The Stinging, Crawling, and Snaring Dead

Restless dead killed by poisonous insects, spiders, other crawling creatures, venomous animals or even toxic plants/fungi. The remain in the perpetual nightmare of their death and what caused it. These shades often manifest in bizarre, unnatural forms because of the synthesis between the shadow of the being that claimed their life and their own human soul. They may possess an extreme phobia or obsession with these creatures in life.

Uses: Can leave actual bite marks on the living, swarm them with nightmares and paranoia causing sickness of the body and soul.

The Vampiric Dead

Vampiric shades with an insatiable hunger for the life force of living beings. These parasitic impulses likely developed in life and carried on after death. The atavistic form assumed by these nocturnal spirits is typically that of a bat or nocturnal bird of prey. They share some common attributes with incubi/succubi as in they enter the dreams of their targets to feed on them.

Uses: Possess thr power to empty a target of their vitality, bring weakness, sickness, nightmares, madness and possibly even cause death through the siphoning of a target's vital force.

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eldritch-spouse · 24 days ago

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i-is it possible to get the full, delicious sex scene of this? uwu 'cause the idea of kalymir taking y/n frantically due to her matching his angel-killing-and-woman-in-robes-dream is so fucking hawttt https://eldritch-spouse.tumblr.com/post/769523379185319936/pinnie-pinnie-pinnie-pie-i-thought-of

[Yahoo, pain time!]

TW: NONCON; Gore; blood loss; delusional states; panic attacks; unhygienic moments; Kalymir's caps lock.

You didn't really have time to prepare.

It makes you think about how wars start, at times. How, in some circumstances, people are just outside performing their daily routines, before being subjected to unimaginable horrors at the hands of a force they'd never guess would show up.

Humans and monsters alike have always been tempted, it's natural, it's what leads to deals being established with those who aren't native to the surface. There had been rumors your city was hardly any different, and you've always thought that one day there might be consequences for the figures in power who think they can flirt with the fires- Pull the wool over the eyes of creatures who were made to deceive. Stories of high-ranking beasts unleashing punishment on those who break contracts always terrified you as a child.

There was no way to force judgement on them, their laws are different than ours, you sign and receive your goods on their terms, so any violations of protocol are also dealt with on their terms.

For all that childish fear your parents worked so hard to eventually snap out of you, they must be tearing their hairs off by now.

Because the very city you live in has angered a being so foul and tremendous that you felt the ground heat and shake before they even emerged.

Your night terrors couldn't have made this justice.

As screams rang ever closer, drowned out by belted roars and the horrid sounds of flesh being zipped apart, time seemed to slow down to a wounded crawl. You had barely the energy to breathe, forcing your head up towards the epicenter of the ruckus.

One look at him was enough to clamp your windpipe shut with terror. A sensation of vulnerability and hopelessness so nauseating that, when it finished raking down your spine, your stomach tightened into a marble and you held back your dinner.

That's no high-ranker.

That is so much more.

One of them. The embodiments, the focus points of each Ring, the demons who syphon all the sin around them like endless black holes of power. To provoke one of these things is to cast despair upon everything and everyone you've ever known.

This city will be nothing more than a corpse pile when he's done with it.

His generals -if you can call them that- spread out in a circle of gleeful gore. Smashing into crowds, letting no one escape their savagery and going as far as to toss each other people, playing volleyball with the lives of those they shame as weaklings. They seem equally as uncoordinated as they do strategic, hysteric with the freedom to cause as much death as possible yet still sharp enough to let none weasel out.

You've never seen a street get painted in red so fast.

Whatever chants and howls they emit do nothing but cause a ringing to take over your ears, buzzing into your brain. You can't even feel the tears running down your face.

You're outside of yourself in that moment. No longer a bystander in the massacre unfolding, you exist in a separate layer, watching it from above, everything muted to a much more bearable level.

Only the persistent, foggy sensation of touch keeps breaking that barrier. You try to shake it off, to ignore it, but it succeeds.

With a blink, the stench of innards and blood fills your lungs. You've become wet with crimson, things are now on fire. The force at your left ankle tugs again, some kind of gargle following, making you instinctively kick hard at whatever's grabbing you.

It was a man.

It is a man, more dead than alive, his lower body hanging but by a thread to the rest of him, so disfigured that you're sure adrenaline is the only thing powering his leaking, crushed body. When the force of your outburst makes him roll back, he heaves wordlessly, what you can only describe as a massive clot of blood pops out of his dismantled jaw. He stops moving.

And you vomit.

The shriek you let out felt like daggers through your acid-burned throat.

Louder still manage to be the cackles of the demons around, stopping to stare and taunt as if you're no more than a silly clown.

This mess, unfortunately, raises the attention of the entity you least want to think about. A spiked head bolts towards the general direction of the commotion, gluing itself to the miserable sight of you immediately.

Both of you freeze in burning time.

Where are his eyes...? A gaze of scorching intensity fixes you in place, but for the love of you, there seem to be no eyes on his gnarled face, just streaks of marred skin descending from a depraved crown of horns, and exposed teeth.

Aside from his hulking height, you can only focus on the sharp protrusions coming from his chest, the ones torn off his back and regrowing steadily, stalagmites of what you might guess to be bone. You wonder, briefly, sickly, if some of the scars on his form are from tearing these growths off.

When the rest of his body turns, when one heavy clawed foot steps forth, towards you, it must be towards you- It takes too long for you to react.

One step. Two steps. Three steps.

Something like incredulity in the way he moves, but not quite hesitation.

Then sprinting.

Even if the whole city were between you, it wouldn't feel like enough distance was established.

Your heart begins thunderously pumping blood everywhere, limbs throbbing with the energy of a lone rabbit in a wolf's den before blind instinct takes a hold of you.

You run faster than you ever have your entire life. Faster than you ever thought you'd be able to.

Frantic legs carry you through sharp debris that stab through your shoes, tripping past corpses and obstacles without landing on your face, dashing and batting everything away with no clear goal. You dare not scream, saving every bit of air for the blood cells racing in your organism.

Large wrathful demons mockingly stand aside, going as far as to cheer -Not that you can hear much with the ringing of your panicked ears- You don't need sound to feel the thump of gargantuan footsteps behind you.

Your chest tightens, physical effort making you spit like an animal when gasps become desperate inhales.

He's too fast, too large, too much- You're going to die.

A swipe of claws across your back disorients you, ripping through your shirt and leaving bleeding welts in its wake. Like a whipped horse, you can only try to run faster.

Not fast enough, however.

Maybe it's because you're in debilitating panic, maybe just because you could never physically compete with such a creature, but everything starts hurting, the muscles in your legs almost pulling wrong, slowing you down, the pain in your chest now a raging headache.

You could have never escaped the shove that throws you to the ground.

Didn't even have the energy to shield yourself.

A wave of agony spreads through your whole face when you make contact with concrete, you fear you might have broken something when blood bubbles from your nose.

" FINALLY. "

His voice barrels through your entire body. He doesn't sound one bit exhausted, not even strained, just mortifyingly excited.

The demonlord rolls you over without a crumb of resistance, your open-mouthed, panting visage weakly staring upwards.

Towering over you is death himself, you don't waste time thinking about how he'll torture you for his own amusement. You don't think at all, waiting for the first blow. Will he kick your ribs in? While he crush your face with a foot? Will he pick you up and twist you in two?

Instead, the massive monster tries to pull you up by the already torn collar of your shirt, growling when that doesn't work. He tears it off brutally, knocking out the air you'd been trying to catch. You're yanked up by the arms instead, likely because if he did that to your neck, your head would have popped clean off.

" WHY AREN'T YOU WEARING YOUR ROBES?! "

...

Robes?

A terrified mind races to understand.

You've never once come in contact with him, he's mistaking you for someone else.

The pain coursing through your arms and shoulders only allows you to grunt, not that he seems very intent in getting an actual response from you.

The Icon of Wrath looks around, easily throwing you onto something hard and vaguely chipped. You realize it must be hood of a car, perhaps a truck, from the way it squeaked upon impact.

No time is wasted as he traps you there, studying you for a pause. There's the sound of something slapping onto the ground, though you can't possibly see it from this angle. In fact, all you can see is his intimidating physique casting darkness upon you.

" THE FOOL I WAS. TO THINK YOU'D COME TO ME IN THE PERFECT CONDITIONS... "

You shiver, though it has nothing to do with temperature.

Something about the way you're being regarded screams trouble is coming. A whole new type of fear encompasses you.

" WHY HERE, OF ALL PLACES?! " A balled up fist slams so hard against the car hood that you're jostled up for a moment. " YOUR HOME IS NOT WITH THESE MAGGOTS! YOU BELONG IN WRATH, MADE AS MY TROPHY FOR THE AGE OF BLOOD I'LL BRING FORTH. "

What can your shaking mind even respond with?

" ... W... What? "

He doesn't deign your squeak of a noise worthy of attention, this rumbling sound emitting from his chest, loud and low, the rattle of a satisfied predator. All at once, he uses both hands to grab the hem of your pants, lifting your lower body when he tugs up and rends the fabric apart, easily peeling it out from under you.

Animal instinct kicks in before you even confirm the gravity of the situation, flailing and kicking with sore muscles.

The beast laughs, this racuous sound devoid of any care, amused, easily holding you down by the midsection while his dominant hand comes to rip senselessly at your shoes, your underwear, your bra. All of it goes flying back. You don't even notice the shards of glass that have stabbed into the soles of your foot.

" Stop! Stop! " The scream rips out your throat, a pathetic sob.

" YES... " He nods, confirming something to himself at the sight of your now bare body. You realize idly that he's allowing you to scratch and hit however you please, entirely unfazed.

Incredulously, disgustingly, he strokes a hand upon his dark, blood-soaked skin, then slaps a warm wet paw over your body. You don't understand what's happening until both meaty hands are caking you in blood.

There's a different quality to his breathing as he paints you in red, it becomes harsher, his chest heaves like a bull about to charge. The knowing revulsion within you causes you to jerk and attempt to weasel away, but every time you get on his nerves too much, he lifts and slams you against the car.

The third time he does that, a sting spreads across your spine, vision swimming. You decide it might not be a good idea to encourage this. It's all you can do not to shake too much while warm and sticky crimson is spread all over your form. He seems to be thinking as he does this, trying to imitate some kind of pattern, deciding the zones where you should be most covered in the gross, foul-smelling results of his slaughter.

Whose blood is this? Your neighbors'? Your friends'?

A bit of it wedges past your lips, you're glad your stomach has already flipped everything it had.

When he passes by your tits, both hands squeeze and roll too hard, catching your nipples in a sharp pinch that zings through your whole figure. Desperation has you opening your mouth to say something pointless, to plea, to cry, but all it does is whimper when you take note of the growth bulging his unique loincloth.

With neither shame nor hesitation, as soon as he notices where your gaze has fallen, the massive monster uses one hand to untie the cloth, toss it aside, revealing a length that nearly makes you feel lightheaded.

It's not just the comparative size, something he seems very eager to display, it's the barbs flaring underneath, no doubt meant to tear into any hole he claims and anchor his cock as deep as possible. The mental image of your body stretching disgustingly to accommodate it is sickening. He looks incredibly hard, you're sure that there's no give to his shaft, that it's heavy and unmanageable for most partners he attains.

Partners... As if this beast doesn't just grab people randomly like he's doing to you.

There's a snort, you realize he's studying the newfound horror on your face.

" YOU DON'T REMEMBER ME. " It's not a question. " I'LL JOG YOUR MEMORY, WHEN I RATTLE THAT FUCKING BRAIN OF YOURS- "

" H- Hu-?! "

In a blink, the Icon is blanketing you in a suffocating closeness, panting against your face as the hand that isn't pinning you by the ribcage darts to his cock and pumps aggressively. While the lurid sound haunts your ears, all you can focus on are his misaligned blade-like teeth. The bits of flesh caught between them when he no doubt bit sections out of people. A dark tongue hovers behind them, wet with drool and shimmering in excitement. His breath is far from pleasant, though there's hardly a way to escape it.

When your head turns in an attempt to abstract from the situation, he forces it back in place and hunches further to lick the mess on your ruined face. A scratchy, far too hot sensation that claims the red he previously caked you in, then bridges over your nose to collect the river that flowed from it when you fell.

The god-awful agony of that location being nudged has a scream belt out of you. Flailing legs thump uselessly against his thighs, your foot nudging his dick at some point. Fuck if he cares. All force you have goes into slapping and scratching at his head, another fruitless effort seeing as he doesn't even flinch. It gets him to stop assaulting your face, to bite your right hand instead.

It wasn't too hard. You know he has the force to tear it right off, to sever all those ligaments and tissue. All he does is give you a taste, aggravate your suffering, cackling at your shriek.

It feels like your extremity's been crushed, fingers struggling to move when a frightening numbness sets in.

Your intact hand has no direction and no goal, furiously swiping at his neck in hopes that it would get him to back away. You mostly succeed in chipping nails.

The demon groans however, apparently incensed by the effort.

" FIESTY LITTLE FUCKTOY CAN'T WAIT FOR MY COCK, CAN YOU? "

...

He's interpreting your fight in the worst way possible.

" I'LL MAKE SURE IT'S ALL YOU GET WHEN WE'RE HOME. "

Home? Home?!

As soon as your bitten hand regains some feeling, the avalanche of trepidation within you just at the implication of being taken to Hell -to this beast's dwelling- makes you swing as swiftly as you can towards his jaw. A punch that pops the fluid between your aching joints yet hardly molds his rictus.

You try everything. Bruising your arms, letting the pain flare through them. There's little hope in your motions by the time you curl both fists around the horns sticking out his head, yanking aimlessly.

" TEAR THEM OFF! " He demands, the want in his insufferable voice utterly transparent.

You can't.

You pull and twist and try to snap them off his skull, but the protrusions stay lodged there as a crown of morbid victory.

" BAH- THE SURFACE HAS MADE YOU WEAK. ANOTHER THING I'LL HAVE TO FIX. "

The demonlord's disappointment is palpable, though enthusiasm quickly replaces it, you can't disappoint him enough to avoid being assaulted, it seems.

His focus shifts to your nethers. You're anything but wet, though he pays no mind to it, suddenly pushing your hips apart so he can frame your pussy.

" TINY FUCKING THING. " He chuckles, observing your fear-clenched hole.

Clawed thumbs trace the rift of your entrance casually, on occasion nudging the bud above in lazy rolls. It's not as if you wish to get aroused, the amount of pressure he uses behind every motion is just inescapably stimulating. The first jolt of your hips, entirely reflexive, is rewarded with a wanton hum.

He slips a thumb inside with some resistance, then the other. You can only wince at the stretch, alarmingly aware of how those claws might slice through your vaginal walls if you shake too much. The fear causes you to tighten further, a painful feedback of sensation that appears to excite him.

A visceral hiss escapes through the gaps between your teeth when he pulls, spreading you out forcibly and mercilessly.

With no inch of lubrication to be found, a burning Hell settles and you start crying quietly again.

" I NEVER GOT A GOOD LOOK AT YOUR CUNT BEFORE... WONDER IF IT'LL FEEL BETTER! "

And that's all you get.

Hot-flashes have you sweating when his thumbs finally leave you alone. A thick tongue swings around, preparing a ball of spit that unceremoniously lashes against your genitals. You realize then that his spit is the only semblance of help you'll have to handle that torture device of a cock.

He slaps it on top of your mound, and you don't look down.

You don't want to see how much he'll hollow you out, don't want to see where it reaches, don't want to think about the weight and heat of it on top of your skin.

Your body... Your poor body. What evil did you commit to warrant this?

" I WANT YOU TO SCREECH MY NAME, THE SAME WAY YOU DID IN MY VISIONS. " He giddily reveals, dragging himself lower to line up properly. A foul maw leans to snarl in your ear. " KALYMIR. "

The sound echoes in your mind, adding to the stab of terror when the tip of his much-too-large dick prods at your entrance. You can't breathe, for a second, wondering how he thinks this is actually going to work, morbidly questioning if this is really how you'll die.

As soon as trepidation releases your lungs and the first crack of pain from his pushing arises, you babble hysterically.

" Stop! Oh God stop- I'm gonna die! "

Kalymir does pause, likely because the sound of fear must be arousing to him in some way. He's already smirking before you even say another word.

" Listen- I'll do anything, please I'll do anything, anything you want- "

" HAH. " Bold teeth get a coating of saliva, one brutish hand holding onto your neck just hard enough to silence the rest of your whining. " I WANT YOUR HOLES AROUND ME. "

Perhaps it was a small mercy that he rammed into you.

Maybe, if he was less excited, he'd have taken his sweet time pushing inside, dragging out the pain until your throat is hoarse from screaming.

All you feel is a flash of indescribable agony, vision going black and body tensing like a coil about to break. There's no direction to go and nothing comforting to hold onto as Kalymir's member carves its place within you.

This must be how vivisected bugs feel.

Writhing is all you're allowed.

Distantly, you realize you're bleeding. You can sense the way your torn body tries to lessen the pain, tries to lubricate itself, tries to contract in pulses meant to shove him out, yet only cause him to groan happily.

Every single time Kalymir throbs inside you, he presses into everything and offers a contradicting mix of feedback. There's the scorching of your poor insides begging you to remove the unwanted intrusion, and the creeping pleasure of sensitive spots being crushed into submission.

The monster himself looks vaguely out of breath, drooling openly onto your stomach while he recovers from the suffocating hold your body has around him. Kalymir cants his hips to somehow slide more of himself inside you, but there's no space left, he merely ends up sliding you back.

" LOOSEN UP ALREADY- " The Icon huffs, a note of incredible cruelty following. " OR WILL I HAVE TO FUCK YOU OPEN? "

You know those barbs aren't in use when he pulls back, and thankfully, your insides don't shred into ribbons.

There's no describing the vacant sensation of his retraction. The split second where air chills your abused hole as it tries to pitifully shrink anew, only to be rammed wide again in yet another nauseating piston.

He's too hot to handle, too rough, the mere contact of his war-hardened hide against your skin causes scratches and rashes from unrequited friction.

You wish you were wet. Maybe you are, but it's hardly enough. Only blood can periodically ease the torment of his jarring, mercilessly mechanic thursting. The truck hood bounces while he damn near crushes you to the vehicle, frantic claws finding purchase on squealing metal, perhaps mocking your own cries of pain.

The stimulus becomes too much.

No matter how hard you might want to alienate your mind from the situation, he won't let you. Kalymir's barking comments, the way he'll clumsily paw and grip at your softer sections, the press of teeth around a bare neck- It all stabs alertness into you, forces a figh or flight heave of primal panic whenever you so much as manage to vaguely dissociate.

Perhaps you instinctively can't abstract from this torment at all.

Kalymir yanks at your soul, chewing and tearing into it, all-demanding and all-consuming.

There's no escape from what's being done to you.

A confused body, unable to escape, fights for a different kind of preservation by drowning you in waves of arousal. It's unavoidable, you think through the slightly muted burning, it's predictable. You don't care to stifle the way your cries have shifted, don't try to mask twitching legs and curling toes.

You don't want this, you never wanted this, whatever is forced upon you isn't evidence that your mind has changed.

You just want it to end, really.

Ignoring your own creeping orgasm is impossible, though you try to focus on breathing evenly, shoving away his snarls of pleasure by listening to the squeak of the vehicle beneath you.

You're not too sure what you screamed when he hilted inside you in a telltale erratic grind, when you were claimed in a way so vile it chilled your bones. When it seeped out of your ruined orifice, onto the car, a pinkish hue that reminds you of sickly discharge.

The rest of it coated you, the monster grinning and huffing with pride at his work.

At this point, most of the pain you feel has become unreachable, replaced by an ambiguous throb of physical exhaustion and trauma. You cannot move, as if your limbs were made of cement and your back had rooted itself to the metal contraption beneath.

Yet your eyes still find Kalymir's face.

Inside them, burns an animal rage that creases your complexion into something borderline inhuman.

This demon will die by your hands.

Kalymir must have felt the silent, sweltering fury showering you from head to toe, releasing a delighted swoon as he picks you up like a soaked rag.

You wonder what Hell is like.

#Kalymir oc

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yarafic · 5 months ago

Text

Preference~ Meeting Klaus in New Orleans

"Don't worry, mom. I'll keep my doors closed." As you pick up your purse from the floor, "Yes, I'll close my windows at night. Mom, I have seen the documentaries, and let's not forget criminal minds. I promise, I am not that ignorant."

You opened the door to your modern house and locked it. You have to say that Criminal Minds or any cop show in existence has proved to you what not to do when you're living alone. You never comprehended why people would foolishly leave their windows open at night. Which is terrifying as fuck for many reasons. For example, someone could enter your house and slaughter you in your sleep. Bloody insects could be swarming around you. Let's not forget that a fucking bird barged into your apartment last month.

When you were trying to head to work, you wouldn't leave your room. Until your co-worker came. She helped you get rid of that damn bird.

"I have to go now." You replied to your mom as you closed the door behind you.

"Please take care! Love you! Be safe and call me when you are off work."

"Yes, mom. Don't worry, nothing bad will happen. Like I told you before, I only live about ten minutes away from work. Love you."

As you hung up the phone, you had this weird feeling. Like you were being watched as you stood in front of your building. Already making your way to work. As you were getting nearer to where you work, you noticed there wasn't any music playing, and it seemed eerily quiet.

As you pushed open the door, there were blood splatters on the walls. Bloodied bodies are all over the place. The worst is seeing all the disfigured corpses on the exposed floor. In the center of the room, there were piles of bodies scattered around the floor. In the center of all those bodies stood a man with blonde hair, covered in blood from head to toe. His arms stretched out.

You noticed that he was holding something in his right hand; you couldn't make out what it was. Then you notice the liquid is dripping from the object. You distinguish it as a heart. You gasp and take a step back. Idiotically, you bumped into a table that was on the way out.

The murderous man turns around to see your small, quivering frame trying to leave the establishment. You had to find a way to get out. But you couldn't move. It felt like you were stuck. You could hear your heart thrumming in your ears. Crime shows didn't prepare you for this current situation that you are in. How were you going to make it out of life? He steps towards you; you stumble back to get away.

You turn around fully to run out of the building, but out of nowhere, he was already in front of you. Your thoughts were racing to find a way to get out of here. He places both of his hands on your shoulders and forces you close to him. Your breathing is uneven, and you have noticed black spots in your vision. The last thing you notice are these piercing blue eyes.

_____

Klaus p.o.v

"Who is she?" I hear my sister, Rebekah question as I go through our home.

"What has he done?" Hayley replies as she leans against the door frame.

I ignore them both, I honestly to do not have time listening to there banter about how I am a monster. I place the unconscious woman on my bed and walked out then closed the door.

I turn around to see my sister with her arms crossed above her chest waiting for me to answer her question. From done below we hear the rest of our siblings enter our home.

"Why is everyone so tense?" Freya question as she sees her you her siblings glaring at one another.

Rebekah twirls around to face Freya and says, "Klaus brought an unknown unconscious woman to our home."

You could see Elijah whip his head around to look at his brother. Klaus shook his head that he will explain to him later what happened. Elijah understood his brother. Therefore, he kept his mouth shut and turn to tell his dear sister to knock it off. But as usual, Rebekah ignores her older brother and kept on insisting that Klaus was going to hurt the poor girl that was in his room.

Klaus walks down the stairs to go into the kitchen, to find himself a drink. If he has to deal with his family, he would need something to calm his temptations on murdering his own siblings and the mother of his child.

Elijah walks in and sits down at the end of the table, he glances at his brother and says, "What happen?"

"She witness me murder our enemies then she fainted. It did not feel right of me to leave her there." Klaus pours himself more bourbon.

Elijah is amazed that his brother decided to take care of a woman that he scared to death. Maybe she will also help his brother, maybe she will help him change to be better for himself and his child.

Klaus then turns around to go back to his bedroom. He sit down at a near by chair, he wasn't going to lie to himself; if he did thought that you were attractive. The moment he sweep you from your feet due to you going to unconsciousness, Klaus removes the strands of your hair that were covering your face. He admired in awe, on how you can look so pure and innocent. Somewhere deep inside of him, he did not want to let go of you. The blonde man needs to make sure to keep you in his life one way or another. He will do whatever he needs to do to keep you with him.

Slowly you open your eyes, you took a glance from your surroundings. You did not recall where you were. Panic rose from your chest and you sit up; you try to push the blankets off of yourself.

"You should be careful, love." a voice calls out to me. I look towards the corner where the voice was coming from. In the left side of the room, sat the very man; who killed all those men at your work place. You push yourself up and try to run out of the room. It was no use, in a blink of eye, there he stood before me. You gasped in fear and took a step back, he had a smile on his face. If you had not known what he had done moments a go at the bar. You would find him an angel, so innocent and gentle. Like he would not seem to hurt anyone.

"Why did you bring me here?" you stuttered out as you kept on walking backwards to keep a distance between the two of you. Klaus brings his hands up to show that they were empty, a way to ease the shaking woman before him. He did not know if he should move in closer but noticing how she was backing away he decided against it. He lowers his hands to his side and replies, "I could not leave you there."

Your face showed confusion, you did not understand at all. Is he keeping you here to kill you? Or is he going to lock you away? (honestly you start making up scenarios in your head about what he could possibly do to you. Not going to lie you were scaring yourself to death, I believe it is time to stop watching crime shows).

"What do you mean?" as your legs hit the bed. Klaus moves in forward and chuckles softly; he now is standing in front of you. He looks deep into your eyes and tilts his head to the side and whispers to you, " I have been watching you. The first time I met you was at the plaza, you were sat at the nearby benches with a book in hand. I couldn't keep my eye away from you, you put me in a trance. Like a siren becoming to come near you. I wanted to go up to for a talk but I couldn't I did not want to taint you from you innocence."

Now you understood those times that you felt someone was watching your every move. For some odd reason you felt your heart flutter. He has always been there in the shadows taking care of you. Your mind was telling you that this by far the most weirdest shit ever but your heart was saying that this is the most beautiful thing someone has ever told you. Your heart was telling you that it is okay to have someone stalk you and be obsessed with you.

"So it shocked me when I saw you walk through those doors. I did knew your work schedule due to your co-worker name Cami. She has been the one giving me information about you. My surprise that you were there, I thought she was the one that will working today", He raised his hands to cup your cheeks and gentle caresses them with his thumb. " So don't be afraid of me, love."

____________

Years later

"That is how I meet your father, Hope." you took a sip of your coffee and smile towards Hope, who has a look of confusion.

"You stayed with him even though he scared the hell out of you." She questions, still not understanding how you, her stepmother could fall in love with her dad due to that introduction.

"Please do not judge me, sweetie. I know I am weird but I did truly found your dad terrifying but now, he is the most sweetest and adorable man that I know." Hope sighs and looks to see her dad leaning on the doorway.

He scoffs of the words that his wife utter and walks inside the room that they were in.

"Please do not let anyone else hear you." Klaus says as he wraps his arms around his wife's shoulders.

"What that you are fluff ball or that there is a soft side of you? Maybe I should open the doors to the balcony and scream them" You questioned playfully whiling sending a wink to Hope.

Hope giggles and shakes her head, "Maybe I should help you as well."

"Knock it off you two." Klaus points at you both. You and Hope snicker to one another.

"You know I love you." I lean to give him a kiss on his cheek.

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intervex · 5 months ago

Text

Teratical: a coining for people who want to resist/subvert ideas of "monstrosity"

Teratical: an individual whose appearance is stigmatized in a way that society frames as "monstrous", who is critical of this framing and seeking to reject/resist/subvert ideas of "monstrosity". A solidarity-building term for liberation-seeking minorities that are the subjects of teratology: intersex people, disabled people, fat people, people with disfigurements, etc.

The term rhymes with "emphatical". The word teratical is presently an obscure word in English which means “incredible, marvellous” and shares the root terato- (monstrous) that is used in medicine. 😯

Speaking back to teratology

This is a backdoor way of reclaiming of the root terato- (monstrous) that is used in medicine. Teratology is the study of congenital “defects” and continues to be an active subfield of biomedical research. Some related terms include: teratosis (having such a congenital difference), teratogenesis (the development of a teratosis), and teratogen (an environmental substance which causes teratogenesis).

The scope of teratology as a discipline has long included intersex people, people with disfigurements, and a large variety of disabilities. It includes environmental teratoses (e.g. fetal alcohol syndrome) and genetic ones (e.g. Down syndrome). It’s worth noting that teratology has consistently included the study of people whose “monstrous” traits emerged over the course of their life span. Intersex variations which first become apparent at puberty have reliably been within the scope of teratology: congenital means you were born on this path, not necessarily that it was visible at birth.

While fatness, madness, and acquired disfigurements (e.g. burn survivors) haven't consistently been within the scope of teratology, the point here is for us teratical folks to reframe the conversation. I don't see a need to limit ourselves to the traditional scope of teratology. Fat people, burn survivors, mad folks, and anybody else who feels the spectre of monstrosity can use the term.

Why coin this term?

Because I want a way to talk about the shared history of intersex, disfigurement, and disability. I want a way for us to talk about our common political struggles. And I want a way to do it on Tumblr without invoking the Discourse around the term crip. 👀

There’s an academic niche which takes a critical disability lens to the concept of monstrosity (monstrosity studies), and I think it’d be nice to be able to tap into that while working to build solidarity between the intersex, fat, mad, disability, and disfigurement communities.

@scifimagpie contributes a verb form, teraticalizing: to subvert notions of monstrosity in ways connected to disability/intersex/fat/etc justice/liberation. In the same vein of how queering and cripping are verbs used to subvert binaries and ideas about ability.

Flag details

The flag is inspired by the Disability Pride Flag and the Crip Pride Flag. Its stripes represent:

Yellow: the affirmation model of disability. Our existence is not a tragedy. Our lives and our unique viewpoints are valuable. Our bodies are beautiful.

Blue: the social model of disability. It’s not us who are the monsters: the monstrosity we face is the oppression we face.

Olive (yellow-green): the eco-social model of disability. The social model focuses on how the interactions we have in our daily lives disable us. The eco-social model winds back the clock to point out that we can be disabled by social decisions made long before we were born. For example, lead pollution in POC communities is a social cause of disability. I think of this model as “social determinants of health” meets environmental justice meets disability studies.

Purple: the social construction model of disability. “Disability”, “intersex”, and related categories are created by humans, and who is and isn’t included in the categories changes over time and across cultures. Beauty is also socially constructed.

Cerise (pink-red): the radical model of disability. Disability is socially constructed, but in practice we disabled people don’t actually get to control the definition of disability. So let's focus on who experiences ableism. Ableism does not act alone: it shares a deep history with racism and cisheteroperinormativity.

You can learn more about these (and other) models of disability on their Wikipedia page! (Full disclosure: I created and wrote the bulk of the text in the article 😅).

Sub-coinings

While I'm in term coining mode, I thought I'd get the ball rolling on some subtypes:

Interteratical: teratical in a way that is linked to being intersex (e.g. “bearded lady” presentation of hyperandrogenism, Klinefelter’s)

Neuroteratical: teratical in a way which is neurological, such as tremors, paralysis, seizures, dyspraxia, autism, etc.

Musculoskeleteratical: teratical in a way which is musculoskeletal (e.g. brachydactyly, hip dysplasia, kyphoscoliosis)

Syndesmoteratical: teratical in a way connected to a connective tissue disorder (e.g. EDS, Marfan’s)

Dermoteratical: teratical in a way which is dermatological (e.g. albinism, vitiligo)

Fat-teratical: teratical in a way which is linked to being fat

Mad-teratical / psychoteratical: teratical in a way which is mad/mental

Enviroteratical: teratical in a way which is linked to environmental causes (e.g. lead)

Genoteratical: teratical in a way which is genetic (e.g. Down Syndrome, CAH)

Cryptoteratical: teratical in a way which is unknown or unclear (credit: @scifimagpie)

Racioteratical: teratical in a way which is amplified by being racialized

Flags and additional subcoinings on demand. 💜

Tagging for archival: @disabilityflagsarchive @disabilityflags @mad-pride @varsex-pride @radiomogai @liom-archive @interarchive

#teratical #teraticalizing #monstrosity studies #monstrosity #disability studies #intersex studies #intersex #actually intersex #disability pride #disability justice #disability history #facial disfigurement #teratology #fat liberation #mad pride #disability coining

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so-i-did-this-thing · 2 years ago

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Hey trans Florida folks - things suck, but I want to make sure y'all have more info so you can better gauge the urgency and expected risk for a new bill.

This is another long post, but please read because a lot of folks are in a huge panic at some misleading info.

You've probably seen this by now:

This is misleading. Be incredibly concerned at the path we're on because it is bad, even plan to leave the state (I am), but drag isn't punishable by the death penalty:

From the Twitter screencap: "Florida has now: 1) made drag in public illegal as a 'sex crime against children'."

Misleading. SB 1438 censors drag in front of minors w/vague, subjective language and threatens misdemeanors, fines, and license revocation for violations. This is meant to scare businesses, and even cities. We are already seeing Pride parades canceled in Florida in response:

From the Twitter screencap: "2) made sexual crimes against children punishable by death"

Too broad. Sexual battery against a child is being made into a capital felony (aka, punishable by death) in the currently proposed SB1342 .

The bill says:

"A person 18 years of age or older who commits sexual battery upon, or in an attempt to commit sexual battery injures the sexual organs of, a person less than 12 years of age commits a capital felony".

If we want a definition of "sexual battery" itself, we can jump to Florida statues at:

https://m.flsenate.gov/statutes/794.011

"Sexual battery” means oral, anal, or female genital penetration by, or union with, the sexual organ of another or the anal or female genital penetration of another by any other object; however, sexual battery does not include an act done for a bona fide medical purpose."

Also of note in this statute:

"Serious personal injury” means great bodily harm or pain, permanent disability, or permanent disfigurement."

I am not a lawyer, but to me, this looks like less of an attack against trans people for existing (via conflation with anti-drag bills), and more a way to target those providing gender affirming care -- healthcare providers or even a child's affirming guardians.

Many states are already trying to set up "aiding and abetting" laws (from the anti-abortion playbook) to punish anyone offering any kind of gender affirming care (from general therapy to vocal coaching) to a trans kid.

Florida might be hoping someone applies the "injures the sexual organs of" component of SB1342 to gender-affirming puberty blockers. Yeah, it's a stretch, but I would not be surprised to see someone try it.

Because we are already seeing the HHS committee consider sending subpoenas to gender-affirming clinics:

"House Speaker Paul Renner said he wants the House to examine how the organizations adopted their recommendations. He questioned whether the guidelines were the result of scientific analysis or whether “the integrity of the medical profession has been compromised by a radical gender ideology that stands to cause permanent physical and mental harm to children and adolescents.”

Emphasis mine. Again, I am not a lawyer, but I would not be surprised to see someone try to hold a gender-affirming clinic accountable for "sexual battery" against a child.

All these separate actions paint a grim picture.

Back to our Twitter screencap: "3) Began allowing death penaltymsentencing at at 8-4 vote instead of a unanimous vote"

Yes, true. This one is scary all on its own because it makes it that much easier for the DeSantis administration to target political enemies.

Everyone should be terrified of this:

Back to making child sexual battery a capital felony & SB1342:

Could we eventually see bills proposed that further broaden - via deliberately vague language or otherwise -what kind of "sex crimes" are punishable by death, thus fully targeting trans people?

For sure, we will absolutely see fascists try to get away with whatever they can and I hope we see more resistance against what is happening now to prevent the escalation towards genocide.

But this specific bill isn't targeting drag and it's important we understand the current threat landscape so we can plan accordingly.

Like. I'm still working on my own plan to flee Florida asap (I am a trans man) but I don't feel at risk of the death penalty just yet, so my "leave asap" is "sell the house in a month" instead of "grab the bugout bag and get in the car NOW".

It is very, very important to understand the threats we face so we don't make rash decisions that could have permanent consequences for already vulnerable people. We need to plan and act on plans with haste, but afford ourselves every opportunity to make decisions with as much accurate information as possible.

What's the status of SB1342?

As I type this, still with the senate, but check for updates at the link below. If passed, it would enact October 1, 2023.

In closing

Again, be careful, be safe, be informed. I am not a legal expert; I'm just a little guy, but the risk landscape has enough threats trans people need to respond to without us thinking drag is currently eligible for the death penalty.

Every trans person in the United States, not just Florida, should be watching what is going on across the country and noting how all these bills connect and escalate. And what could become blueprints at the federal level.

Keep hope, but plan for contingencies that could threaten your job, your housing, your liberty, and possibly even your life. Watch the news, watch your local bills, and do your best at figuring out when you need to break that emergency glass.

My biggest advice to be better informed is to learn where your state posts bills and look them up when they hit the news:

Get used to reading bills and noting when they would take effect

Learn how to follow a bill on its way into law - the stages are usually through various committees, then both the House and Senate can file amendments and ultimately vote in separate sessions to approve, then the governor signs it into law

Understand that a lot of reporting on bills can make it sound like it has passed into law, when it might still just be in a committee.

Not all bills pass, and when they do, not all pass as originally proposed. (This can work for or against us.)

Follow trans political commentators like Erin or Alejandra for more context

Again, it all sucks right now and I don't want to underscore the danger so many transgender Americans are already in (and lord knows I am very lucky to be able to leave Florida). But knowing what we're up against is one of the few defenses we have right now.

I have more advice for trans Floridians here.

#trans stuff #transgender

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literaryvein-reblogs · 6 months ago

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Some Law-Related Vocabulary

for your next poem/story (pt. 4/4)

Ambulatory - capable of being altered

Attainder - the termination of the civil rights of a person upon a sentence of death or outlawry for treason or a felony

Bestiality - the crime of engaging in sexual relations with an animal

Blasphemy - the crime of insulting or showing contempt or lack of reverence for God or a religion and its doctrines and writings and especially God as perceived by Christianity and Christian doctrines and writings

Brownfield - a tract of land that has been developed for industrial purposes, polluted, and then abandoned

Clemency - willingness or ability to moderate the severity of a punishment (as a sentence); an act or instance of mercy, compassion, or forgiveness

Cold blood - a state of mind marked by premeditation and deliberateness—usually used in the phrase in cold blood

Concubinage - the relationship between persons who are cohabiting without the benefit of marriage

Days of grace - period of time beyond a scheduled date during which a required action (as payment of an obligation) may be taken without incurring the ordinarily resulting adverse consequences (as penalty or cancellation); also called "grace period"

Donation mortis causa - a donation that is to take effect on the donor's death and that is revocable

Ex maleficio - arising from wrongdoing; created by law in response to a wrongdoing

Exonerate - to relieve especially of a charge, obligation, or hardship; to clear from accusation or blame

Express malice - the knowledge that defamatory statements especially regarding a public figure are false

Extreme cruelty - behavior toward a spouse that involves physical violence or threats thereof, acts calculated to destroy the peace of mind or health of the spouse, or acts destructive of the purpose of the marriage

Floodgate - something serving to restrain an outburst (as of litigation)—usually used in pl.

Flotsam - floating wreckage of a ship or its cargo

Flying squad - a usually small standby group of people ready to move or act quickly; especially: a police unit formed to respond quickly in an emergency; called also "flying squadron"

Fourth degree - a grade given to less serious forms of crimes

Freedom of the seas - the right of a merchant ship to travel any waters except territorial waters either in peace or war

Golden parachute - an agreement providing for generous compensation to an executive upon dismissal

Great bodily injury - physical injury suffered by the victim of a violent crime that causes a substantial risk of death, extended loss or impairment of a body part or function, or permanent disfigurement; physical injury that is more serious than that ordinarily suffered in a battery

Indemnify - to secure against hurt, loss, or damage

Messuage - a dwelling house with the adjacent buildings and curtilage and other adjoining lands used in connection with the household

Moiety - half of something

Moot - deprived of practical significance; made abstract or purely academic

Next friend - a person appearing in or appointed by a court to act on behalf of a person (as a child) lacking legal capacity

Nunc pro tunc - now for then—used in reference to a judicial or procedural act that corrects an omission in the record, has effect as of an earlier date, or takes place after a deadline has expired

Primogeniture - the state of being the firstborn of the children of the same parents; exclusive right of inheritance

Prurient - marked by or arousing an unwholesome sexual interest or desire

Putative - thought, assumed, or alleged to be such or to exist

Sedition - the crime of creating a revolt, disturbance, or violence against lawful civil authority with the intent to cause its overthrow or destruction

Seriatim - in a series; individually in a sequence

Strictissimi juris - according to the strictest interpretation of the law

Wrongful death - a death caused by the negligent, willful, or wrongful act, neglect, omission, or default of another

Wrongful life - a malpractice claim brought by or on behalf of a child born with a birth defect alleging that he or she would never have been born if not for the negligent advice or treatment provided to the parents by a physician or health-care provider (Note: Wrongful life claims have usually been rejected by the courts. The injury is not the birth defect, but the life itself, and courts are reluctant to declare life an injury. A specific calculation of damages for wrongful life would entail affixing a monetary value to the difference between life in an impaired state and nonexistence. There is no legally established right not to be born.)

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Law-Related Words ⚜ Word Lists

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