#cant report them . may have told them to kill themselves.

[wizardnuke]

kicks rock. im trying to talk to my teammates in voice chat so we can win . theyre already giving good comms. and then i talk and they get really weird really fast

[jackoshadows]

A fascinating and educational twitter thread about how Prohibition helped Botswana become one of the most stable countries in Africa. 

For decades since its independence in 1966, Botswana was an island of black sovereignty & stability between apartheid South Africa and white-supremacist Rhodesia. Some say it was the inspiration for #Wakanda in the movie #BlackPanther.  

In southern Africa as the world over, the Brits and European colonists ran the EXACT SAME PLAYBOOK of alco-colonization.

Read more at the link

Step 1: Introduce hard liquors--industrial distillates--to native populations with no experience with drinks of such mind-bending potency.  4/ Step 2: Clutch their pearls, and recoil in horror at the drunkenness and violence that predictably occurs within the native community and against white colonizers and liquor purveyors. In Africa, they called it the “black peril.”

Step 3: Cite that drunkenness as evidence of natives’ inability to be “civilized,” thus justifying white political domination over them. Africa, Asia, North America, even Ireland--everywhere it was the same pattern. See also: opium in China.

Hard liquor (whiskey, rum, gin, vodka, schnapps, etc.) was the perfect tool of exploitation. Highly potent. Concentrated. Easy to transport. Highly addictive. Didn’t spoil like fermented brews. Easy to make. Incredibly lucrative.

European colonizers would share liquor as a gesture of goodwill, and then once the alcoholic stupor set in, get tribal leaders to scrawl an “X” and sign-away their land, resources, and even people.  8/ More importantly, promoting widespread addiction to liquor made indigenous populations reliant on the colonists, just as junkies rely on drug dealers. Again, see also: opium in China, and two Opium Wars resisting it.  

What did natives have that colonists wanted? Ivory, food, furs, ivory, exotic ostrich feathers, rubber, ivory... the land and the minerals in it, and everything living on it. Also: ivory. And finally, the natives themselves were commodities: as labor or slaves.

If you’re a European trader & the locals trade ivory or furs for (say) your iron kettle, the entire village can use that for 20 years. Blankets might last 5 years before they need to trade with you again. There’s little demand for your wares. Or you. But if you can hook the community on booze that ONLY YOU supply, they’ll have to come back to you all. the. time. Now you’re indispensable. Addiction is self-renewing demand. Becoming the sole drug dealer to a community of addicts is ridiculously profitable. Need proof? Riddle me this: What was the first factory on the continent of Africa? Of course, Africa is rich in every resource imaginable: minerals, gems, ivory, rubber, oil, cocoa, fruit and timber that could be processed into goods.  

Here it is. In 1881, the Dutch Transvaal government granted a monopoly on distilled brandy to the Hatherley Distillery near Pretoria. The company was called “De Eerste Fabriken”--the First Factory. It wasn't first because the white settlers drank it. They largely didn’t.

Instead, with the discovery of gold & diamonds, white mine-owners needed black labor. They lured workers to the mines with promises of liquor, knowing if they had large booze debts to pay back, tribesmen would have to work longer, rather than returning to their village.  

(South African Breweries--today the world’s largest brewer--was founded soon thereafter to provide British-style beer to a white clientele, while the cheap liquor from Hatherley was reserved for indenturing black workers.)  

Consequently, every native leader worth his salt was a prohibitionist--defending his people against the “white man’s wicked water.” King Moshoeshoe in Lesotho. Chief Waterboer in Griqualand. Tembu headman Mankai Renga & hundreds more. In Africa as around the globe, temperance and prohibitionism became the banner for subaltern sovereignty against the white colonial junkiemaker.

Which brings us back to Botswana. Or Bechuanaland, as it was then known. It had long been ruled by tribal chiefs, led by Bamangwato King Khama III ("the Great"), who’d allied with the British against the Dutch Boers.

Three months after ascending the throne in 1873, he informed all white traders on his territory that trading liquor w/ his people was now prohibited. “If, when you give one another a drink, you turn around and give it to my people also, I shall regard you as blameworthy.”  Europeans scoffed & kept selling--until Khama expelled them all: “I am black and am chief of my own country. When you white men rule then you will do as you like. At present I rule, and I shall maintain my laws which you insult and despise.” Prohibition was sovereignty.   “There are 3 things which distress me—war, selling people, and drink,” Khama wrote the British in 1876, asking the Queen’s protection. “All these I shall find in the Boers.”

By 1884, Bechuanaland was British protectorate, respecting Khama’s prohibition.   Meanwhile the 1890s, Britain’s Cape Colony was dominated by the notorious Cecil Rhodes: founder of the De Beers diamond syndicate, quintessential imperialist and unapologetic white supremacist.

“I contend that we are the finest race in the world and that the more of the world we inhabit the better it is for the human race,” Rhodes wrote. “Africa is still lying ready for us--it is our duty to take it.”   In 1889, Rhodes organized his mining interests into the chartered British South Africa Company (BSAC), which had its own government and army. In 1890, he also became Prime Minister of the Cape Colony.   In the First Matabele War (1893-94), 750 BSAC “police” with machine guns killed over 10,000 Matabele spearmen, bringing Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) under Company control. Khama’s Tswana tribesmen served on the side of the Company.

According to BSAC shareholder reports, one of the first items of business wherever the Company set-up control was to farm-out the liquor trade to white settlers. Profits are profits, regardless of prohibition promises.   Rhodes famously dreamed of building a trans-African railroad connecting Cape Town to Cairo... which meant taking Bechuanaland, even though Khama was regaled as a loyal British ally.

From 1892-95, the conniving Rhodes used every administrative trick possible to place Khama’s Bechuanaland Protectorate under the sovereignty of the Company, but was stymied either by Khama or the Colonial Office in London.   By 1895, Khama had enough. Together w/ fellow chiefs Bathoen and Sebele, he voyaged to London to petition Queen Victoria’s government to keep Bechuanaland out of Rhodes’ grasp.

“The two points on which the natives seem to be apprehensive,” the Imperial Secretary in Cape Town telegraphed London, “are the questions of land and liquor.”   The 3 kings arrived in September 1895, and were supposed to meet with Colonial Secretary Joseph Chamberlain. But he--like the rest of the Queen’s government--had left for their annual vacations until November.   “I have for years tried to abolish the use of strong liquors in my country, and prevent the importation of European drinks,” Khama told the London press, lamenting that his efforts “should be hampered by agitation in my country and outside it.”   While awaiting for an audience with Chamberlain or Queen Victoria, Khama, Sebele and Bathoen toured the width and breadth of the British Isles, winning British public opinion to the side of their temperance and sovereignty. 

The Review of Reviews reprinted Khama’s plea that “you, O British people, will not paralyse my efforts by compelling me to submit to the invasion of my country by the trader with his poisonous liquors.”   If Britain were to ignore Khama’s calls for help, the papers editorialized, then the British people “should stand condemned as the most God-forsaken set of canting hypocrites on the whole round earth.”   Following the kings‘ temperance visits, a flood of popular petitions inundated the Colonial Office from across the country, strenuously opposing giving Bechuanaland over to Rhodes‘ Company.   Prior to the meeting, the kings plead their case to Chamberlain: “We fear the Company because we think they will take our land and sell it to others. We fear that they will fill our country with liquor shops, as they have Bulawayo.”

The kings offered concessions and the payment of additional poll taxes, if London would only delay the inevitable annexation by Rhodes’ Company by 10 years. “Do not let them bring liquor into our country to kill our people speedily.” 

On Nov. 6, 1895, Chamberlain finally met with the chiefs to dictate terms. The chiefs would pay a hut tax and sacrifice a strip of land for Rhodes‘ railway in exchange for maintaining their sovereignty as a protectorate.   “White man’s strong drink shall not be brought for sale into the country, and those who attempt to deal in it or give it away to black men will be punished. No new liquor license shall be issued, and no existing liquor license shall be renewed,” Chamberlain declared. 

Weeks later, Chamberlain escorted the Chiefs to Windsor castle for an audience with “the Great White Queen” herself, Queen Victoria, who confirmed the arrangements that Chamberlain had made.   “The sale of strong drink shall be prohibited in your country &those who attempt to supply it shall be severely punished,” the Queen declared. “I feel strongly in this matter, & am glad to see that the chiefs have determined to keep so great a curse from the people.”   Pleased, though unaware of British protocols, Sebele told the press: “Her Majesty if a very charming old lady... But I had no idea that she was so short and stout... I shall go back home contented.” They did.   Far less pleased was Cecil Rhodes, who telegraphed London: “I do object to being beaten by three canting natives especially on the score of temperance.”

And then: “IT IS HUMILIATING TO BE UTTERLY BEATEN BY THESE NI***RS.” 

Bechuanaland’s stay of execution may have been short lived, were it not for what happened next. Upon returning to Bechuanaland, Khama met Sir Leander Starr Jameson, who was leading a BSAC military force.  Jameson’s orders were to instigate an insurrection across the border in the Dutch Transvaal, whipping-up British sympathizers and lead to an all-out British invasion to topple the rival Dutch Boers.  But in a crowning irony, Jameson’s Raid was doomed by liquor. To take the Dutch by surprise, the British would cut the telegraph lines so Boer outposts couldn’t sound the alarm of invasion.  Instead of cutting the telegraph lines, a drunken British soldier instead cut a farmer’s wire fence. The Dutch anticipated and tracked the whole raid, ambushed and decimated the attackers & imprisoned Rhodes’ brother Frank.

London condemned Rhodes‘ reckless adventurism, forcing him to step down from the BSAC in disgrace. The imperial threat to Bechuanaland’s sovereignty and sobriety was over.  The British honored Khama’s prohibition & sovereignty right through Botswana’s independence in 1966. Today the bronze Three Dikgosi Monument honoring Khama, Bathoen & Sebele is the most visited destination in the 🇧🇼 capital of Gaborone.

Were it not for their 1895 temperance mission to Britain, what is today Botswana would’ve long been absorbed into either Britain’s Cape Colony (now South Africa) or Rhodesia (Zimbabwe)--much to their people’s detriment--instead of becoming its own independent country.   Without prohibition, there’d be no Botswana. And in honor of their Founding Fathers, Botswana emblazoned the picture of the chiefs‘ 1895 temperance mission to London on their 100 Pula note.

HEY! If you liked this liquor-politics thread, may I humbly suggest checking-out my new “Smashing the Liquor Machine: A Global History of Prohibition” book, which contains literally dozens of them. 

[aboardthehavocmarauder]

Beautiful Mischief [Pt. 9]

Bad Batch x Reader • Angst/Fluff/NSFW (yknow the whole deal) • Mechanic [hidden Jedi] ! Reader • Female reader

“You’re leaving soon?”

“I need to go on Kamino, and find the answers myself if Obi Wan hasn’t yet”

“Y/N I...I can’t have you kill yourself”

“Rey, I promise I won’t” Y/N reassures her vod without the blood as Reylen brought her into her embrace.

“Remember what we planned when we were kids?”

“Yes”

“You’ll meet me there...when it’s finally over”

Y/N squeezed Reylen in her embrace feeling her grip onto her cloak.

“I promise”

•

“You modified this rust bucket a lot” Crosshair comments as he helps Tech get ready to launch.

“I do what I can” Y/N replies sitting at her station checking on the diagnostics before prepping along with the two.

Hunter stares at Y/N from his seat sensing her tension, already making him worry as Echo caught on immediately.

“I have easy contact with Fives from the 501st, do you think we’ll need the back up?”

“The Bad Batch is the strongest out of the clones. I have faith we can handle this on our own. But you tell him if we need it, we’d give him the word” Y/N looked at Echo when she told him all of that, getting up and checking on a few things before launching.

“Wait for my call” Hunter informs Tech receiving a nod before following after Y/N seeing her simply take a minute to herself in the storage compartment.

“I know you’re there Hunt”

“Hmm. Thought I was stealthier than that”

“Not with me” Y/N watches him step in standing in front of her. “I’m okay”

“You’re not”

“I promise you that I am”

“Okay, well I’m not” Hunter admits taking Y/N’s face into his hands taking a deep breath giving her the second to do it herself as she carefully held his wrists. “We may face a lot more than just the Kaminoans. Could face the republic head on”

“Or Odious...”

“Or all of them. The republic was meant to protect you, but they failed to do their job and you’ve fallen. Yet that’s all they see. Ignoring all the recovery you’ve been through.”

“Hunter...”

“We risked our lives already, and are willing to do it again for your sake.”

“I won’t let anything happen to any of you...I won’t allow it” Y/N frowns looking him in the eye as Hunter slots himself closer feeling her hands move to his torso.

“I know cyar’ika” He says before pressing his lips against hers moving his hands to her waist keeping her close.

When the war is over

I want a life with you

And I don’t want to lose you before I can get that chance

Y/N leans into Hunter’s embrace in the comfort of his quarters as she hasn’t stopped thinking about the possibility of everything going wrong.

“Are you alright?”

“No”

“You can tell me what’s on your mind”

“...I’m afraid to”

Hunter frowns squeezing her a bit as Y/N held onto his arms pressing her back against his chest. He rests his head on her shoulder holding her until she started to calm down in his embrace.

“I’m fine with dying, Hunter. This isn’t just my fight but for now it should be. I don’t want any of you getting hurt because of my actions. Not anymore...”

“Like we’re going to allow that cray’ika” Crosshair interrupts the two’s private moment by eavesdropping and barging in.

“Cross”

“Okay since he decided to actually come in” Echo adds following the sharpshooter and sitting on the edge of the bed as Cross propped himself against the wall. “We won’t let you die”

“And before you start to argue. The first attack wasn’t just meant for Odious to capture you. Darth Maul had his own agenda. We would’ve had to stop him if we didn’t give a single fuck about you”

Y/N sighs leaning into Hunter more as she took Echo’s hand once it was extended to her.

“I can’t lose any of you”

“And we can’t lose you” Wrecker adds finally joining but staying out since him entering the room would make it claustrophobic.

“So we’ll fight until we win. And we won’t lose anyone” Hunter states.

Loves of my life

I will lay down my life for you

And you would do the same for me

But I can’t let that happen

Stepping onto Kamino felt like a mistake, but Y/N needed her answers.

“Something doesn’t feel right” Tech states following Y/N close behind her as she felt it. Something was off.

FIRE

Y/N ignited one of her sabers blocking a plethora of shots fired directly at her as Crosshair uses Tech’s shoulder to give him leverage with his rifle and took down the gatling gun firing resulting in a minor explosion causing the trooper manning it to fall. But Y/N caught them with the force giving Cross a look.

“We aren’t killing any body. Especially any of your brothers.”

“Y/N—-“

“They don’t know better. Good soldiers follow orders. Once the chip is revealed, with its flaws.” Y/N states. “The war will be over. Obi Wan failed to figure it out or he simply followed orders instead of caring about those in his life. I will fight my battle another day. But for now. I’m finishing this”

As the batch kept close to Y/N as she took lead walking over to the trooper that was orders to fire. She helped him up taking a step back before he could try anything.

“Who’s orders?”

“I have orders to not talk to you”

“Well then. Wrecker” Hunter calls watching Wrecker grab the trooper by the chest plate slamming him into the wall.

“Now. Who’s orders, reg?” Crosshair glares watching him struggle in Wrecker’s grasp.

“Chancellor Palpatine and General Obi Wan Kenobi” He continues to struggle before finally being dropped and before he could call it in. Echo grabbed his communicator tossing it to Tech to dismantle.

“You think the General is here?” Echo asks getting a tense look from Y/N as she retracts her sabers when the sound of hanger doors open.

Y/N stepped through the batch staring at the transporter ship making themselves visible. The doors close and the ship lands before the 501st and 212th poured out from the sides along General Skywalker and Kenobi.

“If you think you’re going to do anything to her—-“

“Shut up” Hardcase blurts getting smacked by Jesse for blurting that out loud.

“Excuse Hardcase, we’re not going to do anything to Y/N except bring her in under orders of the chancellor”

“Now what does the chancellor want, when the council has more a problem with me?” Y/N glares bringing one hand behind her and signaling Tech as he got to work with his visor. “Obi Wan. Qui Gon taught you better than this”

“Don’t you dare—“ Anakin stops when Obi Wan stepped forward.

“He did. But I believed in the order”

“Believed” Y/N frowns. “What’s stopping you from killing me like what many Jedi did to the sith and anyone that turned against the order?”

“Y/N but you didn’t—“ Echo frowns stopping himself when Hunter looked at him to.

“You, Y/N.” Kenobi frowns taking his cloak off causing an unnoticeable eye roll from Cody, his commander. “You were tortured. Under a control that you had no say in. I had to report it since you were once under our care and then not. You were controlled by sith. Everything had to be documented. Including the scans and labs we took. The chancellor wants us to take you in for questioning”

“Instead of solving the chip and who controls it. You care more about my factor in this? What a weird way of showing it. But I’m not going with you and I’m not hurting any of you to get away”

“So turn yourself in scum”

“Okay I will hurt him but the others I won’t” Y/N glares at Anakin keeping her hands away from her lightsabers knowing if she touched one, she’s a goner. “Hm”

“Y/N—“

“This is gonna take the hard way I guess” Y/N forced Anakin and Kenobi’s sabers into her hands before getting a head start into the building and before the batch could react, Tech had already deployed her BD unit to release a grenade that put an electric shock through the two battalions and generals.

“Let’s get going”

“How the fuck do you plan that?!”

“Tech is an analyst, Cross” Hunter laughs following Y/N as Wrecker grabbed Crosshair and Tech unexpectedly to hurry their pace.

Echo stayed behind for just a second staring at the battalions before quickly following. He hacked the door with his socket to make sure it stayed closed to give them enough time.

“You got a plan?”

“I know what I’m doing Hunt”

“Hm. Love this already” Crosshair laughs being set down when they reached the lab as Tech opens the camera on the BD unit with the datapad available seeing a few troopers coming through.

“They’re coming. What you have planned. Better hurry”

“And make it quick. I can’t always handle the hacking mechanisms in Kamino” Echo states already shutting down door by door as Tech kept them posted on the closer they got.

“HOW COULD YOU TRUST THIS—THIS TRAITOR”

“ANAKIN, SHE WAS MY PADAWAN. SHE WANTED THE LIFE YOU HAVE WITH PADMÉ AND GOT IT RIPPED AWAY FROM HER THE SECOND SHE LEFT THE ORDER. IMAGINE THE LOSE YOUVE EXPERIENCED TIMES A MILLION. SHE GAVE US ALL THE INFORMATION FROM HER ABUSER AND SO ON. EVERYTHING WE NEEDED TO KNOW AND I DIDN’T LISTEN TO HER. NOW SHES AN ENEMY OF THE STATE AND I CANT FIX THAT WITH MY INSTRUCTIONS TO KILL HER”

Tech froze hearing that last bit from Obi Wan from the cameras and seeing Anakin grow hesitant but a job is a job.

A job is a job

Taglist:

@xxeiraxx @meli-that-girl @Spp2011 @fennign

[illfoandillfie]

Out of Context

Request: First of all, congratulations on 1,000!!!! Could you do a a sequel to Interloper where maybe an interviewer is giving her shit for having once been a groupie and Bri Rog and Deaky defend her and have amazing sex after at like their hotel 😂-foursome anon (I’m back)

Interloper / Snapshots From Before (Prequel)

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Brian May x John Deacon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), gangbang/foursome, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, tit fucking, light choking, slightly dom reader, cheer up sex, some spanking, double and triple penetration

Words: 6,145

A/N: This was another request from back at my 1000 follower celebration last year. It’s been sitting half written in my drafts since then and I finally felt inspired to finish it lmao. Foursome anon I hope you’re still around and you see this!!

Blurb Advent: Day 10

Taglist:  @vee-ndetta​ @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​​​ @deakyclicks​​​ @jennyggggrrr​​​ @drowseoftaylor​​​ @hannafuckingsucks​​​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​​​ @queenmylovely​​​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​​​ @borhapbois​​​ @stardust-galaxies​

Doing press wasn’t easy, especially when interviewers insisted on questioning you all separately. You preferred having at least one of the boys to back you up. They’d been dealing with the whole interview process for so long now they knew how to avoid answering things they didn’t want to, knew how to deal with rude reporters. But it was all new to you. Perhaps that was why this particular interview had gone so badly. There was no Freddie to make the right snide comment, no Roger to get pissed off on your behalf, no Brian or John to squeeze your knee comfortingly or take over when you go tongue tied.

Things between you and the rest of the band had been going much better since Freddie had locked you in that room together. It didn’t happen overnight, there were still lingering tensions. But any badmouthing they did of you was out of your hearing which you much preferred. Gradually, as the tour wore on, there were less tensions. They got used to having you around, began including you in their games of scrabble and their not-quite-awake conversations over hotel breakfasts. Until one day, in the final leg of the tour, when Freddie admitted to you quietly that he hadn’t overheard any whispered comments for nearly a week. “And here I was thinking we’d never get there.” “Oh hush, darling, I told you from the beginning they wouldn’t hate you forever. Sure they took a little longer to come around than I had anticipated but it all worked out in the end. And now when you tell them the execs have asked for another full album featuring you, they probably won’t kill you.” They hadn’t, of course, though you’d worried for the safety of everyone involved in making the decision. Roger looked as if he were a second away from punching the first person to talk to him.

They took less time to calm down though, especially after they saw how nervous you got before the first interview. Your agent had decided some preliminary press would help build excitement for the album before the songs were even written. Calls were made, journalists were found, and before you knew it you were facing a crowd of people vying to ask you their questions, cameras flashing the whole time. It was a lot. More than pushing you into the deep end, you’d be thrown to the bloody sharks. Any lingering ill will the boys had for you vanished after that. They’d all thankfully been there too, had drawn the attention to themselves rather than let you struggle to answer everything on your own. After that they’d kept an eye on you during the smaller interviews. Mostly the reporters were happy to talk to you all together and, as long as you said one or two things about how excited you were to be working with Queen again, and how much fun touring with them was, you could get away with letting them take lead. But every now and then you got stuck with some jackass who wanted to quiz you solo. And this interview, this horrid interview, had been one of them.

Roger pushed the magazine away from himself, letting it slide as far down your kitchen table as it would go. “She’s a fucking bitch that reporter.” You looked down at the magazine, still open to your interview, the headline alone making your stomach turn. “No, sorry, that’s an insult to dogs. She’s a fucking cunt.” “Rog,” “No, that’s an insult to vaginas. There is no word strong enough for that poor excuse for a journalist.” “Roger, sit down.” Roger shot Freddie a dirty look but sat down anyway, his knee bouncing with restless energy, “Sorry. I’m just pissed off.” “Yes, we gathered that, thanks Rog,” “She took everything I said out of context, you have to believe me.” “We do, Y/N, we do,” John said softly from beside you, rubbing circles on your back. “It started well, I swear. Just the usual questions y’know, what’s it like working with Queen? How does it feel to be singing next to Freddie Mercury? Were you nervous about touring with them? Can you give us any hints about the new album? All the things that usually come up that Freddie coached me on how to answer, and I was doing fine. I had my prepared answers and there was no stumbling over words or anything like that. I thought I’d finally got the hang of it all and then she asked me to elaborate on what it was like working with you. I’d already told her the usual thing – it was fun and y’know blew my mind and all that. But then she asked how it compare to being your groupie.” “You didn’t answer her did you?” “Christ no, Brian! Jesus what do you take me for?” Brian held his hands up in apology. “I told her that it wasn’t relevant, but she kept asking, one question after another thrown at me and no matter what I said she didn’t stop. All sorts of stuff, like which of you was the best shag, and if I’d only wanted to be your groupie because I hoped it would lead to my own album, and if I was still offering my services,” you made air quotes around the words, “accused me of using you for my own gain and asked if you were the first band I’d tried it with or if you were just the only ones gullible enough to let me. I tried to tell her no and that I wasn’t going to answer those questions but she just kept going and then she told me to get used to the attention and left. I guess she didn’t need my answers to write a whole article about it.” “Which of us is the best shag?” Brian repeated the question though you suspected he wasn’t just checking he’d heard you correctly. The others all fell quiet, waiting to see if you’d answer. “Really Bri? That’s what you got from that?” “Right, right, sorry, not the important part. Look, it’s not as bad as you think it is.” “Bri’s right, love,” Roger said, much calmer than he had been before, “there’s nothing of substance in here. Like this quote, as for the fun Ms Y/L/N mentioned was had on tour, one can’t help but wonder just what she meant. Could the stories about nights spent playing boardgames be covers for debauched, drug-fuelled, orgies the likes of which would make a pornstar blush, I mean, there’s nothing there. It’s all conjecture and anyone worth a damn will see right through it.” “But some people will believe it,” “Maybe, yes,” Freddie said, “but it’ll blow over. We’ve all been in the same place you are at one time or another. If anything this officially makes you one of the band.” “Yeah, Y/N, it’s all just spiteful rubbish.” “Thanks guys, but I think I might just call it a day, go back to bed. Stay if you want, I don’t mind. But if you leave lock the door behind you.” You stood and headed to your bedroom.

The four boys stayed quiet until you were out of your room but you heard their hushed voices and hissed comments through your bedroom door as you pulled off your jeans and unclasped your bra from under the baggy jumper you wore. It took about five minutes before there was a soft knock on your bedroom door. “Y/N, can I come in?” You contemplated feigning sleep. “I know you’re not asleep.” You sighed and sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, “Fine, Roger, come in.” “Freddie’s gone to make some calls,” he said, standing just inside your doorway, hands in his pockets. “Calls about what? It’s out there now, there’s no getting it back.” “No but we need to make it clear to other journalists that those kinds of questions won’t be answered in any future interviews, and hopefully we can make sure that parasite never gets to come anywhere near us again.” “Isn’t that mean to parasites?” Roger chuckled, “getting over it already, see,” he sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on your covered knee, “I know this sucks, and I get that you’re ashamed, but I promise it’s not as bad as it feels right now.” “I’m not ashamed.” “What?” “You said I’m ashamed of it but I’m not.” “Oh. I thought-” “I’m a bit embarrassed because obviously I’ve never told my family what it is I got up to when I went to all those concerts and now they’re all going to know, lord knows some of them will believe the worst of it. And I’m pissed off that I didn’t stand up for myself more. I just let her keep cutting me off and talking over me when I should have told her to fuck off or at least called her out for being a prudish arsehole who probably only attacked me because she’s jealous I’ve fucked three quarters of Queen. And I’m annoyed that you’ve all been brought up in the article, and she’s questioning whether your good people just because you sept with me. I mean does she expect you all to be virginal saints or something? It’s just frustrating and yes, upsetting. But I’m definitely not ashamed.” “Huh, okay then.” “What?” “Nothing, just, we assumed you regretted sleeping with us.” “Lord no. It wasn’t planned, like she was insinuating, but seeping with you definitely helped me get my foot in the door with this whole music thing. And even if it hadn’t done that, it was still fun as hell and made me feel good. If I wasn’t fucking you I would have been out having mediocre sex with guys I met in pubs and I don’t care how much of a slut it makes me seem, but I’d rather fuck a whole band every single night and actually get off than have a disappointing drunk lay with a guy who’s never heard of the clitoris. Fuck, I’d still be doing the whole groupie thing now, and be perfectly happy with it, if Freddie hadn’t heard me singing that day. That night at the after party, that was heaps of fun.” “Give me a second would you,” Roger stood and walked to the door, giving you another glance before he turned the corner. You watched the doorway, not quite sure what to make of his behaviour but your questions were answered soon enough when he reappeared with Brian and John following. “So apparently we misread the situation,” Brian said, taking the seat Roger had just vacated. John sat cross legged at the end of your bed while Roger flopped onto the mattress beside you. “I can’t believe you’d think I regretted being your groupie. Have you met me?” “In our defence you seemed very upset, what were we meant to think?” “I had a shitty interview and got called a whore in a very public way, of course I’m upset. Doesn’t mean I regret anything.” “Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, we should have realised. But we have a proposition for you. We actually thought of a way to cheer you up when we first saw the magazine this morning but then when we got here you seemed so sad and we didn’t want to make you more upset or uncomfortable,” “What Brian is trying to say is that we have an idea we think you might like.” “Jesus will you two stop beating around the bush?” “Shut up Rog, I’m getting there.” “Y/N,” Roger said cutting off the others before they could waffle any longer, “Would you like to fuck us again?” You almost choked. “Zero tact. What he means is, we thought we could cheer you up. All three of us, entirely focused on making you forget that magazine.” “Wait, I’m confused,” you massaged the bridge of your nose as you tried to catch up to them, “you saw an article that called me a whore and thought it would cheer me up to, what, be your shared fucktoy again? Yeah it was fun but-” “No, no, no, that’s not what we mean,” John said, “you’d be in control of how it all happens. It wouldn’t be like last time.” “So, you’d be my whores?” “I guess?” “The point is,” Roger chimed in, “we want to make you feel better. If that means making you cups of tea and buying you a box of chocolates that’s fine. But it could also mean you having three cocks and all the orgasms you can handle.” You looked from Roger to John to Brian and then back again, trying to work out if they were joking or not. But they all seemed sincere enough for you to actually think about their proposition. It wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from them, and it hadn’t crossed your mind until they mentioned it. But now that they had, you had to admit it sounded fun. Last time had been fun and that was when you’d been passed around and used mercilessly, so having them all again, but with a bit more say in how it happened, could only be better. Plus, part of you wanted to prove how unashamed of your groupie history you were and what better way than this? “Okay, I’m in.”

“Do we need to set any ground rules?” Brian asked. “You all know my safeword,” “Saxophone,” You laughed at the chorus of eager voices, “Yes, exactly. Other than that I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Not like this is new exactly, is it?” “Well, no, I s’pose not.” “Exactly. And if there’s anything I don’t want I’ll tell you. So you’re,” you pointed at Roger, “going to kiss me now, while you two undress,” “Getting right to it, excellent,” Roger laughed, as he pushed himself closer to you. He didn’t waste any time, leaning in to kiss you right away. It started off a little too soft for your liking but as soon as soon as you made it clear how into it you were, kissing him back harder and pressing yourself closer, Roger reciprocated. His hands wandered down to your chest as you felt Brian and John get up, following your orders, their clothes left where they landed on the floor. Roger’s hands were soon replaced by Brian’s as he knelt behind you, and you found your head being pulled around so he could kiss you too. Roger took the opportunity to undress as Brian and John caught you between them. You couldn’t tell who was removing your clothes, only that once your jumper had been pulled over your head John was kissing you. He leaned back, tugging you along so Brian could pull your underwear off, his hands caressing your bare bum. “How do you want us?” John asked, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “Um,” you looked around at the three very naked bandmates waiting for your word, “One of you is going to eat me out. Don’t care who but I am going to cum.” “Yes Ma’am,” John laughed, lazily saluting you before rolling you onto your back and shuffling down between your thighs. You were taken by surprise when you felt his tongue run between your lips, expecting nips on your thighs and the teasing puff of his breath as he hovered just out of your reach. But he was clearly taking the job of cheering you up seriously. Brian and Roger weren’t any different, settling into the spaces on either side of you, their light touches only enhancing the feeling John had set off. You felt their fingertips on your breasts and in the ends of your hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down your spine but not enough to make you gasp in pain. “So what would you like from us, love? What dirty little fantasies are going through your head right now?” Roger tapped his finger on the middle of your forehead. You opened your mouth but a small oh as John latched onto your clit replaced the words you’d been intending to say. “Think we’re going to need a little more than that, Y/N. C’mon, tell us what you want. Do you want us to just take turns fucking you, filling you up over and over and over.” “Or are you thinking more along the lines of last time? Taking two at a time because one cock isn’t quite enough for you now?” “Try three,” you managed to get out as you slid a hand into John’s hair to hold him in place, “want you all at once.” “Jesus,” Brian swore, dropping his lips to your neck. “I’ve been a piss-poor groupie considering the stories that reporter’s peddling. Everyone’s going to think I’ve been taking all three of you at once constantly, but we’ve never actually done that, have we? Might as well embrace my slut title and change that,” “Let us work up to it, Love” Roger said softly, recapturing your lips as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. You whined, partly from Roger and Brian’s attention and partly because John raised his head, your hips rising slightly at the loss. “Guess I should start stretching you out then,” he said offhandedly as he licked his fingers, the same way you’d seen him do a hundred times before while playing. You couldn’t stop the moan that rose up in your throat, the sound only making John chuckle against you as he lowered his head and resumed his focus on your clit.

It only took a few more minutes to have you swearing through your first orgasm. The two fingers John had inside you enough to send you over the edge as they brushed against every sensitive spot they could reach. Your neck tingled where Brian had marked it and your nipples were stiff peaks, extra sensitive to cool air after he and Roger had delighted in torturing them with teeth and tongue and fingertips. “How was that?” John asked, slowly withdrawing his fingers when he was satisfied you’d finished. “Fuck,” was all you could say, the three boys laughing, John dropping a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Think you can handle more?” “Actually Bri I think I might be done,” “Oh. Really?” “I’m kidding.” “Thank Christ. I’m so fucking hard there’s no way I could get my pants back on anyway.” You laughed and pushed yourself to sit up, “Poor thing. I suppose you can use my cunt for a bit.” “Classic guitarists always getting first go,” “Shut it drum boy, I was about to offer to blow you but if you’re going to be like that,” “No, no, I didn’t say anything.” “He did Y/N, I heard him, blow me instead,” “Ignore Deaks, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” “Like a couple of – oh!” you were cut off as Brian grabbed you round the middle and wrenched you onto your hands and knees, “children. A little warning next time please,” “Sorry,” Brian leaned forward to kiss your back as his fingers trailed up the inside of your thigh, “but if I didn’t move this along we’d be stuck arguing about who gets to blow who forever.” “N-no we wouldn’t,” you stumbled over your words as Brian’s long, talented fingers pressed into you, “I made up my mind, Rog in my throat.” “What about me?” “Don’t worry Deaks, you’ll get your turn. If you want you can spank me though, or bite me or pull my hair or whatever else you can think of. You know my limits. Also we’ll need lube so if you want to go digging through my bathroom draws and find some you can. Might be a reward in it if you do.” “Spankher, please,” Brian nearly whined, “always makes her cunt so tight.” “Think I’d rather claim that reward thanks” “Alright then I’ll spank her,” “Guys! Can you stop arguing. I have holes enough for all of you, that’s kind of the point of this. And, Brian and Roger, if I don’t get both of your cocks deep, deep inside me within the next thirty seconds I will kick you both out and let John have his way with me on repeat.” A moment of silence accompanied your statement. You saw Roger, eyes wide, look over at John and then to Brian, and could only assume they were returning his dumbfounded look. “Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven,” Roger blinked as if waking from a daydream and hurried to kneel in front of you, one hand gliding over the length of his cock as the other reached for your hair. Your mouth fell open in a gasp as Brian suddenly filled you, holding your hips tight as he bottomed out, which gave Roger enough opportunity to push himself towards the back of your throat. There was a shift in the mattress as John got up but you were a little too preoccupied to hear the door open and shut or the sound of him rummaging through your bathroom. You only realised he’d returned when a sudden, loud spank hit you and you knew Brian’s hands were still occupied with your hips. For their parts, Roger and Brian were keeping you busy, skewered between them, not sure whether the noises coming from your own throat were moans or gags or wordless begging. Brian breathlessly laughed as John spanked you again, “So fucking tight. Bit harder?” “Y/N?” You made an assenting humming noise and nodded as much as Roger’s cock would allow which John rightly took as permission and so hit you again, harder than the last.

It was an intoxicating feeling, taking two cocks at once, all the while wanting more and knowing you’d have it before long. Brian fucked you hard and precise, as if his goal was to split you open from the inside out. Had it just been him and you alone you would have found yourself creeping further up the bed. It had happened a few times before, leaving you either hanging off the edge of the bed, or with your hands over your head and pressed against a wall in an effort to keep from banging your head. But all he managed to do was push you further onto Roger’s cock, making you gag and choke more often. Roger didn’t seem to mind that though, giving as good as Brian, firmly gripping your hair so that you couldn’t even attempt to move off him. The added impact from John’s hand just made you shiver and moan. He was the one who sensed you were getting close though, reaching under you to rub your clit and give you the extra push you needed to get over the edge. Brian wasn’t too far behind you, groaning as he tried to keep fucking you, his hips faltering as he twitched inside you and spilled his seed. You felt his hands on your backside as he spread your cheeks, leaning down to spit on your arsehole before he pulled out of you. Once Brian was finished with you, you tapped Roger’s thigh and he pulled back. “You okay?” he asked, stroking your cheek with a knuckle. “Brilliant, just thought that since I can move a bit easier, I’d take over. You look like you were close.” “Fucking yes I was close,” You giggled as you readjusted your position to be more comfortable, once again taking Roger’s cock between your lips. This time you pushed yourself lower, taking him deeper, making Roger swear above you. You pulled back again, hollowing your cheeks until you sank down once more. A strangled moan seemed to catch in Roger’s throat and it spurred you on. You reached out to cups his balls, massaging them in your hand as you took him as deep as you could and hummed. The hum turned into something akin to a squeal (though slightly muffled and choked off at the end) as the sticky cool of John’s lube covered finger teased your arsehole, tracing circles around it before slowly sinking into you. The sight seemed to be enough to finish Roger off, one hand on the back of your head to steady himself as he shot his load down your throat, pulling out towards the end so the last of it dribbled down your chin. “Now me?” John asked, pushing a second finger in with the first as Roger let you go. “Stretch me out a little more and then yes,” “Oh, no, I’m not ready for that yet. I want your tits.” “What?” “Your tits, Y/N. Turn around,” His fingers left you and you were free to move, shuffling on your knees to face him. John pressed down on your shoulder pushing you to sit back on your knees and adjusting your angle so he could slide his lubed up shaft between your breasts. He pushed them together with his palms and slid them up and down his dick as he rutted against you, spreading the sticky lube over your chest. With a slight smile at John, you  dipped your head a little and kissed the tip of his cock as it moved towards your lips. “Fuck, been waiting so long for this,” he groaned, “gon-na make a mmm-ess all over you.” He gave up on speech as he neared his released, communicating exclusively in grunts and increased speed until he finished, covering your chest and sternum in ropes of cum that dripped down your skin.

You laughed as John fell back. The hardest you could remember laughing in a while. “What’s so funny?” Brian asked, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “Just thought what that reporter would say if she could see me now, naked and dripping in spunk,” you managed to get out between giggles, “her face would be fucking priceless.” The boys laughed along with you, glad you could see the funny side of the situation with the article. “Does that mean you’re feeling better?” “Yes Rog, but I’m still not done with you.” “What did you have in mind?” “Well,” you crawled over to where Roger was sitting, leant back on his hands, and placed your hand on his throat, tilting his face away from you a little so you could lick a long stripe from his jaw to his temple, “I meant it when I said I wanted all of you.” “Never doubted it, love,” he sounded a little breathless. “Just let me know when you’re all ready to go again. Not you Rog, I can see you’re ready.” “I’m good too Y/N,” “Yeah, same,” “In that case,” you shifted your position, lining yourself up with Roger and sinking down on him, squeezing his throat a little harder as you adjusted. “John, you still got that lube?” “Yes, uh, yeah here,” there was the sound of a cap flipping open and you leaned forward encouraging Roger to lay back so you could give John better access. “Hey, Rog, can you spread your legs a little wider,” “S’pose so, just don’t kneel on my bollocks or anything,” “God give me a second, the thought of that just made mine try and jump up inside me,” You giggled as John shuffled closer, using his fingers to spread some more of the lube over you and to keep stretching you out. “What about me, Y/N?” “I haven’t forgotten you Bri. I want every inch of your cock shoved so far down my throat I can feel you for a week. Just let me get used to the others first, yeah? Still feels kinda odd having two of you at once since we’ve not done it much.” Brian nodded, contenting himself with running his fingers through your hair as he waited. John, having pulled his fingers from you and slicked up his dick with more lube, sank into you slowly, his hand on your back to keep you bent forward. It suddenly felt hard for you to pull in a new breath as you tried to adjust to the feeling of both of them, especially when John gave an experimental thrust, fucking you slowly to make sure it felt okay for everyone. Brian talked softly, reminding you to breathe and telling you how well you were doing, until you were better in control of your lungs and ready for more. “Are you sure you want me as well?” “Yes. Lets show that parasite just how far I’ll go, huh?” Roger laughed, “that’s the spirit.”

Brian didn’t need more convincing than that, though it did take a little trial and error to find the best way to accommodate all three of them. Brian tried perching his arse on the headboard but Roger whinged about “seeing nothing but Bri’s ballsack flopping about. And I know you see things when you’re gangbanging but that is too much.” In the end Brian stood next to the bed by Roger’s head, enough to the side that Roger’s view wasn’t impeded but still close enough so that the angle wouldn’t strain your neck. He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail as he pulled your mouth onto his cock, letting you work yourself further down his shaft as slowly as you needed, checking in with you every now and again to make sure you could take more. The other two were mostly still as you adjusted to Brian, though once or twice they’d given a small thrust or shifted slightly and made you whine. Once you had Brian buried as deep in your throat as he could go you paused for a few seconds and then pulled back again, strings of saliva breaking on your lips. “How was that?” “Good,” you gasped, “New. Kinda weird but very fucking good.” That didn’t really explain anything but you weren’t sure how to describe the nearly overwhelming fullness, the sudden heat, the tension in your belly which you couldn’t pinpoint as either anticipation or nerves or just because you were stretched open on three cocks. “And that’s without us doing anything,” “I know,” you grinned, “I’m excited. Why didn’t we try this sooner? But now you guys can cut loose. I’m not sure I’ll be much use in like riding you properly or whatever. Just don’t know my brain can focus on keeping both of you in my holes while I’m thinking about blowing Bri well. So, just fuck me however you can and we’ll see how it goes.” “Don’t worry, we’ll make you feel good,” John said, rubbing your back softly. “Yeah, course we will, love. And if ends up being shit then we can just take turns instead,” You nodded and took a deep breath before leaning forward to take Brian again. You controlled the pace once more, bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking on his tip, as the other two figured out their rhythm. It was a strange sensation to start. It felt clumsy and more than a little awkward, especially when John mentioned how he could feel Roger inside you. But that eased as they adjusted and worked out how best to fuck you. John held your hips as he plunged into you, each thrust harder than the last as his confidence rose and he found out what you liked most. Roger’s hands moved over your skin rather than staying in once place, palming your breasts and teasing your nipples between his fingertips before sliding down your side to grasp your waist and then back up to your breasts. You were rocked on his cock with each of John’s pounding thrusts, which only made you moan around Brian’s. You let instinct take over there, one hand stroking from his base up to meet your lips as you swallowed him deeper. His hips jolted when you whined or moaned and before long you dropped your hand away from his shaft, instead grabbing his arse to keep yourself steady. He pulled you off him again and you could feel the spit on your chin. “Forgot what a fucking incredible cocksucker you are.” Brian groaned, “But can I take over? Fuck your throat?” “Yeah, okay,” You had time for another breath and then you were pushed down again, right to the base. “There we go,” he groaned, pulling on your hair, “Gonna make you feel so fucking good.” Your hum was choked off and ended in a gag as Brian ground his hips into your face. That seemed to be the tipping point though. The moment all three of them forgot about awkward views or who was positioned where and became entirely consumed with fucking you deep and hard. You were glad to let them lead, grabbing you, pinching and pulling and squeezing every inch of you they could reach. And all the while spearing you on their dicks, keeping you in a cycle of mounting pleasure as they found all your most responsive spots inside and out. You felt your orgasm building again, the heat rising, getting more urgent as you got closer and closer. The sounds you made were muffled by Brian but that didn’t stop you making them, moaning with every pounding thrust. As you neared the edge Brian pulled you off his cock so they could all hear you properly, their encouragement mixing in your lust addled brain and creating a wall of noise that pushed you over the edge with a loud cry. And yet they didn’t stop. Brian waited until your orgasm was reduced to aftershocks that made you wince and whine and then cut off your air as he entered your throat again, resuming the long, deep strokes that made you gag until he came, holding you down as he emptied himself completely.

As soon as the other two didn’t have to worry about giving Brian access to your mouth they adjusted your position, John pushing on your back until you were bent over. Roger attached his lips to your throat as they simultaneously fucked into you, the change of angle pushing Roger’s cock against you in a way that had you seeing spots. You cried out again as Brian lay a slap on your arse. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” John grunted as he came too, unable to hold out any longer though he didn’t withdraw from you either. His hips slowed a bit and he whined softly but he kept fucking you. “Rog,” you panted, trying to get him to finish too. “You’ve got another one in you, c’mon love,” You whined but nodded, the familiar sensation already tightening in the pit of your stomach. Again the three of them encouraged you, John wrapping his hand around your waist to find your clit, Brian reaching under you to squeeze your breast as his other hand came down on your arse again. They gave you no option but to cum, shivering between them. Finally Roger let go too, moaning into your ear as he filled you up.

It took a moment to disentangle everyone, John being careful not to go too fast and hurt you, but finally you were able to collapse together, sweaty and panting, spread out over the room. “So, cheered up now?” Brian asked from where he’d lain down on the carpet You peered over the edge of the bed at him, “Think so. Thanks for that, it was fun.” “Any time, love,” Roger chuckled from the end of the bed, patting your knee, “and I mean that.” “I’m not you groupie anymore,” “Never said you were,” “Then what?” “What Rog means,” John cut in from where he’d spread out on you window seat, “is that if you ever need cheering up or to let out some frustrations, we’re here. We’re happy to help,” “Does your help always involve a gangbang?” “Not always,” Brian laughed. “Well, a lot of the time,” Roger added with a wink. “I’ll keep it in mind,” you chuckled, “I’ll have to face my family at some point and there’s a high chance I’ll leave upset and frustrated so, we’ll see. Wonder how Freddie’s getting on with those calls.” “I’ll go give him a ring and find out,” Roger said, half groaning as he stood and stretched. He didn’t bother grabbing any of his discarded clothes before he left. “I’ll take Rog his pants,” John sighed as he got up and replaced his own underwear, exiting the room with an eyeroll, Roger’s underwear pinched between his thumb and pointer. “And I’ll...stay here?” Brian said, “unless you need anything?” “Nah, I’m going to jump in the shower. Let the other two know that’s where I am, would you?” “If you’re doing that, can I have the bed?” “Sure Bri,” you laughed, “as long as you promise to change the sheets when you wake up.”

[queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm]

The Most Vibriant Color In the Rainbow (Jasonette)

Red. It was in your veins, it’s the color of fire and the setting sun. Red was the color of France’s superhero. A heroine that was wilting like a rose. She was hanging on by a thread and the Fates seemed so very tempted to snip it. There, in the shadow of the heroine’s mantel, lies a girl who is just fighting to not have her voice stolen from her again.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was that same hero, but she was so much more than that. She was an artist, a daughter, a designer, a partner, and a friend. Marinette knew exactly how to fix any problem that came her way no matter how bad of odds there were. She came, she saw, and she conquered every challenge that dared come between her and her goals. All Marinette wanted to do was love. So the question is, what happened to the Marinette everyone knew?

Away with the firecracker that was Marinette, anew with a pale imitation of the beautiful girl. She moves mechanically, every step she takes she’s made a thousand times over. All of this because of the Antichrist herself, Lila Rossi, made good on her promise to herd the sheep into her flock. The sound of crocodile tears could be heard ringing through the classroom, “W-why are you s-so mean? I-I just w-wanted a dress f-for the dance!”

Marinette stared at the Italian woman with a glare that could kill, “And I told you, I cant. I have my responsibilities and you have your ‘responsibilities’ we’re both busy people. Your universe may revolve around Lila, but mine revolves around me. It’s sad that you think you can guilt trip me into doing something I don’t want to do when you and I aren’t friends. Call me mean all you want, but I won’t care. You and everyone else in this class mean absolutely nothing to me. I do what I have to do to survive and you are a shepherd to week sheep. It’s unfortunate for you that you would ever think I would fall in line for you.”

A hush fell over the room. No one expected Marinette to clap-back against Lila, but more so that she would speak with no emotion backing her. Lila, stunned silent, forgot to keep crying. Ladybug doesn’t let anyone treat her like a stepping stone, so why should Marinette? Marinette is Ladybug inside and outside of the mask. She just puts the mask’s responsibilities more important than Marinette’s happiness. An obnoxious girl with glasses broke the silence, “W-What d-did you say?”

“You heard me, Alya, we are not friends. You chose the shiny new toy over truth. I want nothing to do with unreliable sources,” The tone she used was deadly, “something you do a lot. It’s no wonder why Ladybug stopped endorsing your blog. It’s such a shame that you chose someone who Ladybug has publicly claimed has no connection to her over the one who got you your interviews. Or did you forget, that I’m the one who actually knows Ladybug and is friends with?”

Everything stopped. No one breathed, blinked, or moved. You don’t know fear until the wrath of the Cheng family befalls you. Though they might not have the resources, or so you think, (A/N: I headcannon that the Dupain Chengs are rich bc they are the best bakers in Paris, plus why would Gabriel or Aubrey let their children go into public school.) The Cheng family held themselves with a an air of respect without even trying. Marinette maybe wilting due to the weight of the world, but she would not crumble to the will of uneducated teenagers.

Red. That is the color of vengeance, anger, and blood. Red is the color of Gotham’s vigilante. A zombie of a man trying to rebuild what was once his life. Across an ocean there is a boy that just had his world turn upside down. He died an incredibly gruesome death and had he thought no one mourned his loss.

Jason Todd was Red Hood, the loose cannon of Gotham. Everyone thought the pit had taken him to the place of no return. That his mind was the problem. Yes, the pit madness made his angry, but it didn’t make him lose his mind entirely. Behind his anger, Jason was just a boy taken too soon and then mutilated for other people’s benefit. He craved physical affection. He pleaded for trust. He needs his father to tell him he loves him.

Red Hood stayed out during patrol to clear his head. He looked down on the city while perched on a high rise. It usually calmed the voices in his head, tonight they seemed restless. Jason wished for silence, he felt oppressed by the dreariness of the city. Something in his heart told him that this isn’t where he was meant to be. The voices told him to jump off the high rise and to the voices Jason responded with a kind, “Thanks Karen, but fuck right off.”

No stars could be seen due to the pollution of Gotham, but the moonlight shone on Red Hood. He stared at the moon, deep in thought, “Where would I even go?” He asked himself, “Who would want me?”

Not even the voices wanted to hear him talk about him, “Paris,” they whispered.

“Why Paris?” Paris? What’s so specials about Paris?

“Trust us,” the voices responded, “there’s something you won’t want to miss.”

Jason filed that under the folder titled ‘Another question for the therapist that I don’t have.’ He couldn’t deny the pull he felt towards Paris no matter how hard he tried. There was no reason to go though, but there was no reason to stay either. They were all fine without him before why would this time be different?

It was then Jason was reminded the coms were still on and that Tim was an insomniac, “Paris? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it Timmy. I’m just thinking about taking a vacation. Don’t tell B yet, I’m not sure I should even go,” He knew it wasn’t Tim’s fault, but he couldn’t help but feel that familiar tingle of resentment towards his brother. He shook the feeling away, “I just need a breath, Gotham seems to have me dying all over again.”

Tim reassured Jason that his secret was to be kept between the two of them. The feeling was still gnawing at his being on the way back to his apartment. Red Hood, the light hearted jokester, the one who needed to be restrained, a smiling pillar to the magnifying glass that was Bruce and Dick, was lonely. The question was: is he lonely enough to leave? The answer is yes. Jason is tried of being the second thought, he’s tired of having to report in, and he’s tired of the way the voices take up space in his mind when there’s no company to talk to.

Paris, be prepared. Red is coming to your city and it’s going to become a color of change. Red will paint the streets. Red is going to cause Hawkmoth to rethink if his antics are really worth the price tag that follows.

A/N: Marinette is 19 and Jason is only 20. This could be a series of this is something you all would want to read. I’m a sucker for Jasonette and I love the Maribat genre in general. Please let me know if you want to be tagged also! Thank you all for reading and supporting me!

Tags: @abrx2002 @amayakans @mystery-5-5 @normal-piece-of-shit @st0rmy-w1th1n @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @g-arya @smolplantmum @rayray384 @rosa97 @drarryismylife101 @kris-pines04 @black-streak @storyteller-d @weird-pale-blonde-person

[nemossubmarine]

Warhammer 40k: Wrath & Glory #41

The party says goodbye to the people on Jonah’s World, mostly the Knights. Larry takes a moment to catch his sister, who is cleaning up the bodies from the square. He says he noticed a rune on her belt that looked a lot like one he has, so he’s going to give his to her, as he supposes she would know what to do with it better than he would. She thanks him for, her voice completely obscured by the mask on her face.

They get onto the Wolves’ ship, Thunderfist’s Howl. When they exit the hangar, there’s a woman there, who hands out messages to Vivek and Larry. Larry goes aside to read the message, which is from his mom and basically boils down to that she wants to see him and that she loves him.

Izarak catches up to Larry, and asks if they may speak. Izarak says he knows that there isn’t going to be a good chance he’ll be taken back into the Ecclersiarchy, in fact the only reason he hadn’t been thrown out already is that his supervisors don’t know where he is. Izarak wants to know if he may be able to join Larry’s crew after all of this is done. He says that the party has started to feel more like friends than anyone back at his work. Besides, he is obviously at odds with some Imperial ideals that are taken as given. Larry tends to agree, and tends to be the same. Larry mentions having been a pilot in the Imperial navy, but he left, when he was ordered to virus bomb a planet. Not that it probably stopped the virus bombing… Izarak says it was still something, better to do something or refuse to do something, even if they may be unable to stop things from happening. Izarak mentions how he was stuffed into becoming a little village priest, when he reported another priest from taking bribes.

Larry says he’ll gladly take Izarak on board, if they can figure out what he can do (Larry jokes about putting Izarak to clean the toilets). He mentions that Izarak was helpful in calming the crew when they were traveling through the Warp; this would be useful in the future too. Izarak says he’ll think about

After that Izarak goes to eat and take a nap and goes to pray in the ship’s chapel.

The Wolves (that is Fafnik, Skarde and Uffe) grab a hold of Chazaqiel and start heading off. Coco runs after them and asks if Uffe has a moment to spare. Uffe sends Fafnik and Skarde ahead. Coco asks if Uffe is a high-ranking Wolf, and Uffe says somewhat (the real answer is yes, very). Coco asks if Uffe could write some sort of an affidavit, testifying that there are eldar on Dysmonia. She wishes to inform her family about that, and perhaps it could help to prove that Jim was killed by eldar. Uffe notes that there isn’t much of a name recognition. Coco asks if people respect Space Wolves, and Uffe shrugs and says Coco would know her family on that front better. But Uffe agrees to write such a thing, after he has checked what is going on with Dysmonia. Coco thanks him.

After that Coco finds the navigation station and asks if she can join to see how they work. The navigating officers, who have no idea who Coco is and what she’s doing there, ask her not to touch anything. Unfortunately the officers talk in their native Fenrisian, so Coco doesn’t get much out of their conversation.

Larry goes to find Vivek, who’s reading his own message in the corner. Larry asks what’s the letter, and Vivek says it’s from Mars; new orders and a promotion. Larry mentions getting a letter from his mom. Vivek says he’s glad to hear she’s alive. Larry says he has something to ask of Vivek, and Vivek comments about him not coming here to just flirt then. Larry says not to worry, he told Coco he wanted to “talk” with Vivek. Anyway, Larry asks if Vivek could introduce him to the captain of the ship, as he’s interested to see how a voidship this size works. Vivek says sure.

He takes him to the bridge and introduces him to the Captain of the ship, an older gentleman named Fjolt Freidasson. Turns out the captainhood of a ship like this is pretty much in the family. Fjolt has a daughter, who will become a Captain after him. Fjolt explains to Larry how the bridge works. Apparently Larry charms the Captain sufficiently enough, that he asks him to come drinking with him, which they do. Fjolt shows Larry a picture of his wife, whom he loves very much, and some pictures of cool ships with Wolf-decals on the side. When they arrive to Baal, Larry goes with Fjolt to check them getting out of Warp.

The party meets up at the ship that’ll take them down to Baal. Vivek is already there. He asks the party not refer to him as Vivek down on the planet, as he’ll be there as a Martian representative. They ask what to call him. He has a name Martians refers to him as, but it is a mouthful (apparently easier to say in Cant Mechanicus), so he asks them to call him Marshal. Apparently a new title, which arrived with the message from Mars. Vivek doubts it will stick, as he only got the promotion, because his tech-priest died on Dimmamar, and Mars needs someone to be high-ranking to toss their weight around. Coco congratulates him on the promotion nonetheless. Larry acknowledges Vivek’s loss, and Vivek shrugs, saying she was a good tech-priest, but losses happen.

Eventually the Wolves join them, Skarde and Uffe carrying a metal casket that turns out to hold Chazaqiel’s remains. Uffe hands over to Coco an affidavit, and Coco thanks him. Uffe lets the party know that he won’t tell the Blood Angels about the party’s dealings with Chazaqiel. They can decide themselves what they’d tell the Blood Angels. The party is obviously worried about it, as they don’t know how, well, bloodthirsty the Blood Angels will be. Uffe explains that he has met with Lord Commander Dante, and he believes that he would not be unfair, though he can not say which one of the Blood Angels they’d be meeting. He recommends they play up the aspect of themselves as victims of Chazaqiel’s influence.

They get to Baal, which is a desolate and ruined place. They are greeted by a woman who takes them towards the monastery-fortress. There is a mournful song echoing around the halls of the monastery. Skarde wonders if they could ever sing something happier, and Uffe comments that there isn’t much to be happy about. Skarde says it reminds him of someone he knows, and asks when he will be hearing Uffe’s aria.

The Angels wish to see the Wolves first, so the rest are taken to a side room to wait, where they are offered some food and drink. Eventually Vivek is taken to meet the Blood Angels, and after that, finally the party. They are taken to a small room, where there is a table, on which Chazaqiel’s remains are laid out. Around the table are the three Wolves and three Blood Angels, one in the blood red armor, one in the librarian colors of blue. The final man is clad completely in gold, adorned with a sorrowful golden mask. A trick of the light makes the mask appear to be angry. This is Dante, the Lord Commander of Imperium Nihilus. The party bows down towards him.

Dante asks the party to speak of what they know about Chazaqiel. The party keeps it vague at first, admitting that they’re somewhat afraid of this situation, being merely bystanders. Eventually they want to bring up the Countess in the situation, hoping to get aid from the Blood Angels in dealing with her. They kind of lie a bit to Dante, and at some point get caught, by claiming to have overheard Chazaqiel talking about the Countess with someone regarding the mushrooms she uses to control the people. Dante encourages them to be truthful, and makes a point that he has been tasked by Lord Commander Guilliman to look after the people of Imperium Nihilus, and that he has sworn to do. That includes the party. The Wolves had also vouched for them, which helps.

Larry comes out with having had the mushrooms put into him and then later removed, and that those mushrooms are now in the hands of an Ordo Xenos Inquisitor by the name of Ace Valerius. He’s alright now, but obviously it’s not something he just wants to put out there. Dante asks how these mushrooms came to be inside Larry, which leads to Izarak explaining about the eldar presence on his home planet (with making it clear there are no eldars on the planet anymore, and pleading that the long-suffered people of Treshan should be left in peace) and came in contact with the Countess. Izarak also mentions them having found a Blood Angel, Michael, who had been caught and kept by the Countess for at least a century. He mentions that Michael doesn’t remember anything about himself, and seems to be having other issues as well. Dante says that Astartes can fall into a kind of a coma if their life is threatened, and waking from that can cause such troubles as they describe. Dante says he can’t off the top of his head tell who Michael might be, but whoever he is, they would gladly take a brother back home.

The Blood Angels promise to send some of them to Llosie to hunt down the Countess with the Wolves. Before they can explain more, another Blood Angel enters, he speaks with Dante a bit, and then hands him something that looks to be a clay tablet with some symbols on it. Dante in turns hands it over to Uffe, who snaps off a piece, crumbles it in his hand and tosses the dust over the table. It has a strange effect. Opposite side of the table, where Vivek is standing, they can see through the dust, he appears as a much younger man; his hair black instead of grey, the lines of his face gone. It disappears quickly, and the only reaction is from Uffe, who mutters only the word “Time”, and then says to Dante that he’ll look into it.

[bards-anonymous]

Feasting On A Lord Session Recap [2/5/2021]

SOOOOO

Todays Session was so much fun and I loved it BUT OH IT WENT SO MUCH WORSE THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO.

Also, if you are reading this, HI ZACH [ @general-van ]

TO START, the party got separated, Darius and Phineas went one way and Harriett another. All of us dressed in different jumpsuits with NONE OF OUR GEAR. SO like....off to a fantastic start

WITH Phineas and Darius here is what happened

First they are taken to what is a really weird circus-esque version of bottle street.

They are taken by a man to a building where they are told they will need to rest up for later and that a pamphlet is in there to explain things.

On there way there they see some really odd eyeless clown like guards meant to remember the city watch.

THE SECOND they are left alone, they start to go off and look for Harriett, they end up come to a wall of light and are stopped by one of the monster like guards.

They toss said guard into the wall of light (The real MVP of the Session]

The other guards are rightfully mad about it but are also tossed into the wall of light.

Phineas....almost falls into the wall of light but is burned pretty bad for getting too close to it

They book it and hide somewhere until the guards pass them, once they are sure they are in the clear they start to head back to the building they were told to go to.

On their way they find Annie, unconscious. They pick her up and take her with them. [That makes 1/4 Npcs that we needed to find]

She wakes up and tells them a little information but before long a intercom goes off saying that all Miners should report immediately. Which Phineas and Darius were

Annie tells them to go as if they don’t they will be looked for which is very un-good. Say also says that she will try to think of something while they are gone.

They head to the mine and are told to collect 10 pounds of silver and the first 15/50 groups to do so will be rewarded. HOWEVER they are also given weapons to protect themselves....which is a red flag already.

So they head in and come across two creatures that are weeper like but not. They fight them and Phineas gets down to 1 Health....

Darius is able to dispatch them and Phineas is able to get back on his feet. The two collect the bit of silver they found and they move on. 

They take some times to listen ahead and they hear commotion and fighting..... SO they creep forward with caution. 

They find 2 guys picking up silver and a third being up someone off in the corner and on the ground was a dead body.

Darius and Phineas kill 2 really quick with 2 shots and the third turns around and looks at them panicked.... .which is fair given the situation.

The random guy starts to try to reason with them HOWEVER Darius and Phineas look over and see that the person who was being beaten up WAS THE NPC WE LOVE DEARLY, her name is Rebecca [This means 2/4 NPCs have been found!]

So...The OBVIOUS ROUTE was now VIOLENCE, for reasons stated above.

He tried to run away but Phineas using his void magic yanked him back over and he was quickly killed. [Which was what he deserved for being any amount of mean to Rebecca]

After picking up Rebecca and some more silver, they head forward to get to the exit. 

They move on to another area and Rebecca hears something so the party goes and stops for a moment. 

They look and up ahead is several dead bodies, a ton of silver and 2 of those zombie weeper things.

Rebecca and Darius shoot one, killing it. [woooooo Go REBECCA] Phineas shoots the other one, but it is still standing. 

Rebecca swings on it but misses, it takes its turn to swing and hit her back, and knocks the ever loving daylights out of her.......[NOO]

Darius, mad about that, kills that last creature and finds that they had been guarding an elevator. 

They collect their silver and BOOK IT out of the mine.....cause damn.....

SO HARRIETT HAD HER OWN HELL OF A TIME.....

This is what happened with her....

Her cart dropped her into some water where she blacked out. Already a fantastic sign....

She wakes up in a prison cell. Chains are attached to the wall, a blanket sits on the floor and a dog bowl sits on the floor as well. 

Harriett picks up the bowl and looks at it. Inscribed on the side is “Lion #3″ [NOW the second I heard that, I was like oh no oh no oh no oh no......It was panic time.]

As she is looking at this she hears yelling from outside her cell. She knows that voice.... ITS HAZEL. [3/4 npcs we were missing were found] 

The two talk and Harriett takes a moment to try and figure out a plan. She looks back to the chains on the wall and figures if she can pull it free, she can use it as a weapon.

UNFORUTNATLY.... she makes a lot of noise and one of the clown guards spiders its way down to look at her and its opens her cell.

WHEN I TELL YOU SHE WAS MORTIFIED, SHE WAS MORTIFIED

Harriett already has some issues with weird void magic monster [which is about to become 10 times worse, just you wait] but this does not help to sooth her fear. 

The creature moves away and start to open other cells, and then calls everyone to the center.

After a small banter, Harriett and Hazel fall into line.

A man, a ring leader looking type starts to make little announcements and around them is a whole circus full of these clown guard creatures. Harriett is terrified and Hazel points it out. 

The man pulls out a dice and rolls for the first event and Harriett is called forward. 

It is an obstacle course. 

of course it is. but this one has acid and long falls and clown guard monsters that attack you. 

Harriett and 2 others race and JUST BARELY HARRIETT WINS 

she falls back in like and nearly hyperventilating. 

Hazel gets called next and has to fight all these creatures. Harriett warns her to not be cocky. [anyone wanna guess what she was]

At first she does pretty well for herself but the last fight she start to lose and uses her void powers to help her. WHICH IS SO UN GOOOOOOD

The ring leader says its a shame she had to cheat to win, which angers her and she gets in his face

and.....and she swings on him.

UNFORUTNATLY, on impact the sword breaks.....and he smacks the life out of her with the staff he had in his hand. 

She fell back to the ground, un moving [WHICH IS NOT GOOD AT ALL] 

Harriett is watching in horror absolutely frozen. 

The ring leader tells the guards to take her away and to make sure she cant do that again.....which means....she is probably gonna lose her arm....

THis leaves HARRIETT ALL ALONE [ back to 2/4 npcs found....]

The ring leader sends them off sayign they need to rest for tomorrow.

SO now Harriett is at half health, 2 slashes across her cest, all alone, no gear, near panicking

So this is very character changing actually, cause now Harriett is away from her friends, surrounded by the thing she fears the very most, and she feels hopeless. 

She is gonna go feral. Harriett is gonna have to go after Hazel because that is the only person she know where they are and she won’t leave her behind. She has 2 plans and she HATES BOTH OF THEM

OH OH OH and something I noticed, Hazel acts a lot like Harriett did at the start of the Campaign. Harriett sees herself in Hazel and WANTS TO HELP HER. Harriett knows what that sort of doom and pride mentality can bring and does not want to see Hazel die. She actually kind of likes Hazel’s company even if she is kinda snarky.  

She is just a little street girl, she has never dealt with something like this before. She has never felt fear like this before and its messing with her bad. Because of the 2 painting incidents, the last one being the worst, Harriett is scared of the void monsters and such. AND NOW SHE IS ALONE SURROUNDED BY THEM. 

I made a post a while back, about how with all the stress, Harriett’s hair would start to grey. Depending on what happens, I might have it so that this series of events cause her hair to grey out of stress and fear. 

Worst part is, she’s scared to die alone. She has so much to tell Phineas and Darius, She has SO MUCH to tell Joseph but in her mind, she may never see any of them again. So now she has no idea what to do in what feels like a hopeless situation to her and she has NO IDEA how to deal with and handle this fear she is feeling. [which she has never felt at this magnitude.] She is gonna break down...

SO ITS BEEN A CRAZY SESSION.....Harriett is not doing well at all. Phineas and Darius are alright....And we still have no idea where Zed is at.....so I CAN NOT WAIT FOR NEXT SESSION AT ALL!!!!!!

[currentfandomkick]

Bio! Dad Strange part 4

Shorter but a paris update for her life and a little on gotham with Jason as Robin while Tim is a hero Stalker.

Marinette is 7 when she changes schools, ordered into the Dupont school chain by her teachers since she was getting ‘difficult’ and contradicting their ciriculum. When they challeneged her on this, she went to the school board with Rolland beside her of all people.

The board agreed on one thing, Marinette’s contradictions were not only factually correct, but were done to prevent the outdated ciriculum from hurting her classmates. Instead of punishing her, she got to skip a gade and was given to Dupont as a ‘highly reccomended gifted student’.

Her first day she met Max, who also skipped a grade. The pair bond in five seconds over a new programming focused on learning emotional intelligence. Uncle Riddler was showing her it, and Max got his hands on a various ai bases. This led to then teaming up and designing the one and only Markov together, if only in schematics.

A week in and the two notice that some kids are being followed around by a guy with a bat. They report it. Again and again, but no one can find him.

One day he catches the pair on their way to Max’s—they wanted to work on their ai together, ok? The guy tries to hit Max, saying something about them being lucky metas that needed to suffer.

Marinette’s gotham training kicked in. She caught the bat, ripped it away from him and hit him in the chest with it, while yelling at max to run.

At the end of the incident, videotaped by a bystander, the Dupont Stalker was arrested.

Marinette was given another name by the police, ‘fille de batte’ or bat girl. Her having family in gotham only made the nickname more popular.

This put her on Kim and Alix’s radar. Kim wanted a challenge for fighting and competitions, and this tiny kid did that—to an adult! New friend and rival!

Alix was went from shock to joy as Marientte does art. She does art. Art friend to rant to found!

Nino ran into Marinette not long after Kim and Alix attached themselves to her and Max. Nino became their judge for Kim challenges. Including Mari pinning Kim to the mat, or deciding who did a circus move better (Mari won acrobatics).

Chloe doesnt go to dupont until next year, and sabrina is in another class, mildly concerned for Marinette.

In this au, again, Dupont is considered a ‘i would not be shocked if there were metas there’ school for gifted kids in any way.

Marinette is sent there for her insane science obsession at the time, but is also put in their arts program with Alix to develop as an artist with her medium, fabrics and fashion.

And if marinette redesigns hero outfits as “monsiuer ross, scribbles have more style, let alone fashion sense” alot, well. Kids get obsessed a lot and the Justice League is a common one, as are known villians. Her everyday outfits having different hero schemes—oddly enough some forensic scientist she’s obsessed with from some american city ended up in her mix—well. She’s a kid and showing signs a few types of anxiety.

Possible social and OCD and a developing case of perfectionism common to the arts program. The school has her see a therapist and know she isnt telling them everything beyong mild concern for her gotham family, and confusion over people just ‘not getting things’ as she is terribly smart and good at finding patterns and how do people not see it?

By the end of the year Marinette is in a strong friend group who’s parents and hers have decided to have joint custody during the school year.

She was now (forced) to learn vietnamese from Kim’s Grandparents, italian from Rolland (her nonno that has a Thing for tradition and somehow married Gina and raised Tom mostly on his own while running the bakery to boot), english from Father/Strange, Mandarin from her Maman and she started Arabic to talk with Nino’s aunt who kept saying marinette was her future in-law and point out that nino and her are friends, not dating ma’am.

However, Nino endured most of this with her-not the italian or Mandarin, but the others. Kim couldnt get Arabic but mandarin was a breeze for him. Alix cannot get vietnamese or arabic but Mandarin is her jam after french. Max just speaks french and english, he understands the others he just cant get the sounds right, ok?

When Marinette goes back to Gotham that summer, she ends up dealing with Hero Stalker Tim (jason is robin now) while looking for Red Hoodie who No oNE is telling her what happened and she’s worried, ok?

Tim feeds her obbsession with fixing problems. He sometimes sends her building layouts of places Catwoman stole from. And then the jewlry reappears thanks to a nervous Marinette coached by Rose and Ghoul while Frost handles her post-fix it freak out. Tim also may or may not get helped by her alot during Batman Stalking Time as she teaches his butt how to sneak and complains he’s worse than penguin.

Tim hates that, works on it, and still has nonidea who she is. He does admit to figuring out who batman may be, but needs more evidence so...

Marinette hits him becuase “thats dangerous!” And tries to lecture him in identites.

Batman’s radiowave was used for said lecture.

“And it puts their families in danger you, uh, hero stalker! And stuff so no more identity investigations!”

“They have the same builds, and did signsture moves from—“ the signal cutout.

He and Jason are more careful... ish. They change channels and monitor the old one.

Sometimes Batman catches Marinette and Tim talking about coldcases and she has asked three times if he heard anything about Jason’s street kid identity. Jason is feeling guilty about this as she’s his Pixie Pop. This lets Bruce know that the probably-clark’s-kid would keep Jason away from GCPD and CPS.

When a convo leads to Batman finding out Tim and Marinette have considered asking the police for help with a case of medicine that needed to be recalled as it was beign used to mule drugs contaminated the batches and hurt patients, but turned it down after she saw some taking bribes from Fish, Batman lets Gordon know and an investigation is launched.

While Bats is away, Jason visits marinette as Robin and tries to get her to bats for more information and a lecture on heroing without adult supervision. Maybe.

Only she’s currently stealing from a sleeping selina at another HQ. A Selina who has stopped trying to stop marinette and let riddler turn her house into one of his ‘traps’ to stop Marinette’s ‘return theiving’.

Jason gets stuck in a trap. Marinette is gone by then, scared Robin will tell Superman about her and he’ll hurt her family or something.

Catwoman is annoyed at Marinette’s sucess. She goes to stop the girl after leaving him tied up for Batman with a message: leave her new kitten-to-be alone.

Follow up talk post-Caught Marinette reverse theiving.

“Blame the Council’s decrees. She’s their little princess, and my new neice,” Catwoman watched Batman carefully.

Confused Batman in interrogator mode. “You mean the Court of Owls, arent they disbanded?”

“Bats, the council is gotham’s underground. Apparently Two-Face made the contracts as penance for scaring the Princess during a breakout. Unless you want an organized attack by the council, steer clear of her.”

Batman conencts the dots and curses himself. The girl he was looking for last summer is the Princess of Gotham’s underground. It will be hell finding her. And Superman/Clark will lose it when he’s told.

He lets the JL know about it, saying ‘possibly kyptonian clone, female child. Gotham’s underground is calling her their Princess. Connor and Kidflash tailed her last summer during the arkham breakout while Robin was with the Titans. Be alert for a small asian girl.’

That was how Marinette ended up on the JL watch list and how Superman had another existential crisis.

Dick freaks out with the Titans over this. Becuase kyltonian raised by villians is terrifying. Jason forwarded the message and adds on “she’s a good kid and wants to help. Somehow keeps zsasz and joker from killing people, so its not good to take her away or issolate her from the villians if you find her. From what i remember, she is terrified of her family beign put in danger. The others wont listen to me. If you can, pass this along to the other sidekicks and your allies—none of them trust me enough to listen. I cant talk to her as a civilian like i used to either for obvious reasons. And she’s terrified of me-Robin. Maybe you can get through to her, or someone else can. Just talk to her first, she’s more reasonsble than she looks”

Dick doesnt read the add on until much later and regrets it.

He met marinette once. She was a very excited kid babbling about aerodynamics in acrobatics and asking about that. Not hero things, not power things, or justice league but That.

He tried to be nice but he was having a horrible mission, saw the girl floating as she rambled and tried to grab her.

She freaked out and bolted, sort of. He got slammed into a building, or would have had she not caught him, rambled in french while trying to apologize (he was a but stunned from the throw, and rebooting as villian-kyptonian was... nice?) and put him on the roof, hit his communicator and said one thing.

“I think i broke your robin? All are robins like bird bones or something?”

He regained a functioning brain as that. That was something he could respond to.

“I am human thank you!”

That seemed to be enough for her as he moved to get up. She waved bye and bolted, something about Rose being mad at her for being late...

“Titans. I think we might have been wrong about the kid...”

Later with Young Justice the info was passed on.

Jason asked if anyone read his attachment and was met with silence. He groaned and told them “so another team she’s going to avoid... great.”

Marinette added the titans to her list of ‘people to aviod—tetch and Jerimah were the worst. Luthor and Cadmus were under them. Then the entire Justice League (they would tell batman or superman. Snitches.), followed by GCPD, CPS, the Bat Family and now Titans. She wonders if she needs to add anyone else, and hates that she cant talk to heroes. They could help with controlling her powers instead of suppressing them but she cant trust them not to give her to superman like batman did with Rose to Poison Ivy and she’s pretty sure Superboy too.

Next time, times marinette accidently put together identities and curses Hero Stalker Tim for her now knowing.

[xxforsaken-angelxx]

> Consult an expert

xxforsaken-angelxx uh knock knock?

centaurstechnician D—> Greetings xxforsaken-angelxx hi im eridan makara the grinmaww im fuckin doin shit i wwas told you knoww things about helm recovvery

centaurstechnician D—> I am called the Engineer D—> As it happens, I know quite a bit about the subject D—> As helm installation and maintenace was my primary focus for six sweeps D—> And the rehabilitation of uninstalled helms the last four

xxforsaken-angelxx ok cool so youre just a funky miracle man

centaurstechnician D—> If it pleases you to phrase it that way

xxforsaken-angelxx no i mean it thats more rehab wwork than anyone here has

centaurstechnician D—> Indeed, do you know how much of their physique is compromised by the biowire’s intrusion? D—> As well it w001d be helpfoal to know how long they have been filly on life support

xxforsaken-angelxx purportedly the biowire aint fuckin wwith anythin an theyvve been there bout fifty swweeps, on full life support for a lotta that

centaurstechnician D—> According to whom? D—> Helms are %tremely bad at self reporting D—> And technicians are apt to overlook anything which does not interfere with the job D—> But assuming all you are dealing with is musc001ature atrophy, and not compromised limb function due to %cessive scarring and nerve damage D—> The I have a regimin of physical therepy %ercises to deal with each stage of recovery D—> As well as diet suggestions. D—> It will take them an amount of time to adjust to taking food by mouth again, and you will want to start with liquids, though a high protein diet rich in calories is imperative to recovery D—> I also suggest that perminant ports be replaced with silicone seating for comfort while moving and laying in any position

xxforsaken-angelxx according to the techs but thats fuckin useful shit

centaurstechnician D—> Are they currently on broad spectrum antibiotics and antivirals? D—> Restarting the immune system is an entire process involving transfusions and system boosters D—> They abso100tely will find their body treating every new thing as a possible intruder once it begins to ramp up D—> So you will need to watch for anaphylaxis, and have epinephrine ready, as well as simpler antihistamines and steriods

xxforsaken-angelxx youre a fuckin useful bitch yknoww that like i knoww wwere prepped for that one but youre less dodgy than the clowwn nurses

centaurstechnician D—> I am nothing if not usefoal D—> Helping to rehabilitate helms legally and freely is a dream > centaursTechnician has sent file exercise&diet.zip D—> My notes

xxforsaken-angelxx *hell* yes

centaurstechnician D—> I understand the subject is entering this affair willingly? D—> There may come a point, more quickly, or further along, where they grow tired of constantly struggling to do normal activites. D—> I have found a simple and uncomplicated short term and long term reward system helps with motivation, as long as you are entirely transparent about your motivations

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah they apparently wwould really like this to be a thing, so but tell me more about that?

centaurstechnician D—> Between keeping a private journal that remains private, and finding out what motivates them, new books? Food? Food is quite popular with psions in general because of their abnormally high caloric needs.

xxforsaken-angelxx i cant evven guess wwhat theyd like but wwe wwill cross that bridge wwhen wwe get there

centaurstechnician D—> once off the automatic regulation of blood sugar by the life support systems, many psions have reported feeling like they are constantly hungry, so food as a short term treat rarely goes wrong

xxforsaken-angelxx noted

centaurstechnician D—> feel free to contact me with any further questions

xxforsaken-angelxx actually heres one wwhat do you do like speech wwise

centaurstechnician D—> Are the vocal chords damaged? D—> If the voice is damaged, cybershades or glasses present an alternative to communication while strength and dexterity is being rebuilt in the hands

xxforsaken-angelxx theyvve refused to talk their wwhole service so i mean i fuckin assume an wwhat the fuck is a cybershades

centaurstechnician D—> It may be a form of protest, specifically. D—> Ah, hm > centaursTechnician has sent file cybershades.pdf D—> I apologize for the slightly rough instructions, this was pulled from a site where they discuss building one from cheap and spare parts D—> But it should still be usefoal D—> They are shades that present a HUD display of a computer interface, and work via a touch contact neural transmitter. D—> They can be both single or paired with a other device for increased computing power.

xxforsaken-angelxx ...thats cool as all shit

centaurstechnician D—> They are invaluable for giving some freedoms to those who have trouble communicating D—> And also for using your computing devices on then fly

xxforsaken-angelxx i wwould FUCKIN imagine

centaurstechnician D—> Language

xxforsaken-angelxx im a clowwn if i dont swwear then i shrivvel up like an unwwatered plant

centaurstechnician D—> I suppose if it is medically necessary I shall allow it

xxforsaken-angelxx i kneww youd understand

centaurstechnician D—> Of course D—> Let me know if there are any other pieces of equipment you need schematics for or questions I can answer

xxforsaken-angelxx one more thing any tips on like keepin someone not horrifically bored wwhen they wwont tell you wwhat they like

centaurstechnician D—> Give them the resources to seek their own entertainment. D—> Remember that they are probably very angry about the fate that was handed them D—> However they choose to express that anger is the only act of will they have taken for themselves from the shambles left to them of their abillity to act D—> You are not entitled to know anything about them D—> Give them the shades, allow them to order and ask for things on their own terms D—> They can find their own way. D—> As long as things are available to them if they choose.

xxforsaken-angelxx mm that makes sense not wwhat nymede wwants to hear though

centaurstechnician D—> There are many realities of dealing with people on the other side of a system you have benefitted from which are.. difficolt by nature

xxforsaken-angelxx shes been havvin a rough time wwith it but its easier wwhen i like fuckin knoww wwhat else to tell her to do

centaurstechnician D—> Feel free to direct her to me as well, if I can help, I will D—> I have been tasked with restoring Goldwave, as well D—> So I do have familiarity with the particulars of the implants used.

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah good fuckin point just might do that ...on a scale a one to ten howw much of a bitch is he to deal wwith

centaurstechnician D—> I believe he is doing his best to behave D—> Although I personally find him enjoyable enough. D—> perhaps a six, a nine if you are not me.

xxforsaken-angelxx thats about wwhat i thought but also i dont knoww howw the fuck you like him

centaurstechnician D—> My Red’s pale would rate him a twelve I’m certain

xxforsaken-angelxx ha

centaurstechnician D—> I quite enjoy his quick wit, and Strength of personality and determination

xxforsaken-angelxx i mean thats one fuckin wway to put it ...youre also wwith the serial killer bitch or somethin though so i dunno

centaurstechnician D—> I am Vriska’s moirail, yes. Ive known her since we were wrigglers

xxforsaken-angelxx im sure theres somethin there for you but i only knoww her for a lotta felonies so its questionable to me

centaurstechnician D—> I am curious about what intellegence about those procedings youve managed to gather

xxforsaken-angelxx not fuckin much i knoww there wwas a lotta murder an some fuckers head got stolen an our one heiress aligned ship that got ovver to the scene fuckin hated it uh she used transportalizer tech wwe dont havve

centaurstechnician D—> I apologize for my little prank with the letter, also

xxforsaken-angelxx OH YEAH THAT BITCH

centaurstechnician D—> :) D—> I’m told she killed every coolblood in the station

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah that she did fuckin brutally

centaurstechnician D—> There is nothing I can say which will lessen the impact of her chosen methodology D—> And I am not going to attempt to. D—> I’m curious, though, Grinmaw D—-> How many people have you killed?

xxforsaken-angelxx none zero none people

centaurstechnician D—> We have the privilege of having that in common, then

xxforsaken-angelxx not the up close vviolence type myself

centaurstechnician D—> Do you prefer a hands off approach, then? xxforsaken-angelxx eh, kinda im supposed to knoww wwar strategy type stuff an i like studyin it but right noww if i havve to actually use it then thatd be a bad sign to say the least centaurstechnician D—> I sincerely hope that your hands can stay clean.

xxforsaken-angelxx nice a you you too though centaurstechnician D—> Thank you

[bifrostiron]

Dalton Big Bang | Day 21: NSFW Day

Magic in the Hamptons (Part 3)

Derek wasn’t surprised that Logan ended up keeping his word about not wanting to stop.

He was just a little surprised that he was the first one Logan decided to hook up with at Dalton.

They hadn’t said a word about what happened that summer for the first two weeks of school. They’d greeted each other when they returned like they had every semester before, as a group of friends who’d spent some time apart. It had been in the back of Derek’s mind, of course - he hadn’t really stopped thinking about the things they’d done. But he wasn’t going to be the first one to bring it up.

It was only when he and Logan were hanging out in Derek’s room, helping each other out with their first big lab report of the semester, that he received any indication that he wasn’t the only one still thinking about it.

“I’m calling it,” he’d said, tossing his notebook down on the desk with a heavy sigh. “I can finish the rest tomorrow, I can’t look at this much math anymore.”

“It was your idea to take Physics,” Logan grumbled, but he slid his own notebook into his messenger bag. “We could’ve been in Chemistry with Jules.”

“Please, I’ve seen you in the kitchen,” Derek retorted, spinning around in his chair to face Logan. “I don’t want you mixing anything that might actually kill us.”

He half-expected Logan to fire back, but he didn’t respond at all. He just looked at Derek like he was sizing him up.

“You doing okay?” Logan said suddenly, and Derek blinked.

“I’m...fine.” His face folded in confusion. “Got a lot of work to do. Why?”

Logan shrugged. “You seem stressed,” he muttered, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “Thought maybe you’d like something to take the edge off.”

Derek was about to ask what he meant by that when he registered the look on Logan’s face. It was one he’d seen only a few times, in the rare moments that Logan initiated one of their encounters in the Hamptons.

“I—“ he stammered, laughing nervously. “Are you serious?”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to,” Logan added quickly, looking down. “I get it. But you did say—“

“I did,” Derek confirmed. “And…yeah, I do.”

Logan’s eyes met his, and Derek’s breath caught in his throat.

He was up and moving before he’d consciously processed it. Logan let his bag fall to the floor, sitting back on the couch without taking his eyes off of Derek. His knee settled between Logan’s legs, straddling his thigh, and he steadied himself against the back of the couch with one hand on either side of Logan’s shoulders. Logan hesitated only a second before diving forward, pressing their lips together.

It wasn’t like kissing a girl. Logan’s lips were firm and rough, though not unpleasant as they slid over Derek’s, his tongue working its way into his mouth. He kissed possessively, like he was claiming Derek’s mouth, and as the kiss deepened his hands gripped Derek’s waist in a similar fashion. Derek’s hips jerked involuntarily, rutting against Logan’s leg as his fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt.

He balanced himself in Logan’s lap and reached for his tie, hastily tugging at the knot without breaking away from their kiss. Logan lifted one hand to help him, undoing the top few buttons of Derek’s shirt. His other hand slipped under his waistband, clumsily tugging at the elastic of his boxers.

Their mouths broke apart, both breathing heavily, and they exchanged a nervous glance. Derek’s hands stilled, and he almost asked if Logan wanted to stop, but Logan shut him up by sliding his hand between Derek’s legs and cupping his half-hard cock.

“Shit,” Derek hissed, and he reached down to undo his pants, giving Logan a better angle to grip him. Their eyes met, Logan’s gaze intense as he started to stroke him, and Derek found it hard to look away. He shrugged off his now-unbuttoned shirt, letting it drop carelessly to the floor, and started on undoing Logan’s tie. Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t think you’d want to look,” he muttered as Derek fumbled with his top button. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, crashing their lips together.

Beyond the conversation they’d had on their last night in the Hamptons, they hadn’t really discussed the details of whatever was going on between them. Logan probably assumed that Derek was just fooling around with whoever was available, perhaps imagining that it was a girl he was making out with. But while it may have started out that way, that hadn’t been the case for a while.

He pulled Logan’s shirt over his shoulders, exposing his bare chest. Derek’s hands roamed as his tongue slid into Logan’s mouth. His thumb grazed over a pert nipple, and Logan shivered.

Physically, Logan wasn’t anything like Derek was used to. His thick cock hardening under Derek’s thigh was a testament to that. But rather than feeling disgusted, Derek was intrigued. He liked the noises Logan was making against his mouth, the way his body reacted to Derek’s touch. Besides, Logan was damn good with his hands, and as his movements quickened Derek felt himself already getting close to his peak.

Derek’s hand dipped below Logan’s waistband, earning a soft moan in response. Logan’s body shifted, his legs spreading, and Derek settled in his lap with one knee pressed into his groin. Logan rutted against him, canting his hips into Derek’s hand.

Their lips broke apart, foreheads resting together as they found a rhythm with the movement of their hands, stroking each other in sync. Derek’s breath quickened, his hips stuttering a little as Logan’s thumb swirled over the head of his cock. They didn’t talk, communicating only in gasps and low moans as their hands explored each other.

Derek felt it first, that familiar heat spreading through him as Logan stroked his cock. He let out a low moan, and with his free hand on Derek’s lower back, Logan pulled him closer, his grip tightening. Derek responded in kind, his hand sliding over the tight planes of Logan’s chest, his fingers catching on his nipple. Logan moaned, and he tilted his head to seize Derek’s lips, his tongue working its way into Derek’s open mouth.

Derek finished with a groan, and Logan stroked him through it, fingers digging into his back. He kept up his pace, sensing that Logan was close as well. His free hand roamed over Logan’s chest, and he took note of what movements made the other boy twitch and whimper underneath him. Logan was vocal, not subtle at all about the effect Derek’s touch had on him, and when he finally came with a loud moan Derek realized he was looking forward to finding out what else he could do to coax those noises out of him.

His hand stilled, and Logan’s mouth broke away from his, panting gently. They took a moment to catch their breath before their eyes met, both looking a little unsure of themselves before Logan cracked a cheeky smile.

“So am I gonna have to say ‘no homo’ now?”

Derek snorted. “I already told you I wasn’t straight,” he mumbled, pushing himself up off of Logan’s lap. His legs shook a little when he stood, so he settled for sitting back down next to him on the couch, taking a moment to rest before going to get cleaned up.

“So that stuck, then,” Logan drawled, his head falling back on the cushions. He hesitated a moment before adding, “Is this gonna become a regular thing?”

Derek shot him a sideways look. “It was your idea,” he pointed out. “You tell me.”

Logan glanced over lazily, his expression neutral. “I’m okay with it,” he said quietly. Derek studied him, the silence between them suddenly heavy, though not uncomfortably so.

“Me too,” he said with a nod, and his gaze lingered just a bit longer before he got to his feet.

[edge-lorde]

Savage Eden

by K. M. Ashman

Once upon a time, in the not so distant past, a looming ice age threatens the existence of all Two-feet in the ice walls path, both neanderthal and modern human alike. their only hope for survival lies in joining forces and learning from each others ways in order to come up with some new form of protection. 

but winter is not here yet, and a third group of Two-feet has been pillaging all local modern human clans, eating those they kill and taking the survivors as slaves. for their first act of cooperation, can the neanderthals and modern humans team up to save one mans 5-year-old son, and end an age-old curse along the way?

lets find out!

believeablity: 6. magic is never implied to exist in this story, but it is fantastical nonetheless. first off, we have the return of PSYCHIC NEANDERTHALS, yes indeed! the neanderthals, or mrllwllch, as they call themselves, both have the ability to remember things about their ancestors histories without being told, and to communicate via telepathy. the latter is experienced by just “knowing” when they are being called by one of their compatriots or by sharing images in each others minds. after a while of being among them, a modern human character begins to experience this as well, but i dont think he could send images. it could be that all humans have latent psychic abilities and neanderthals are the only ones that have evolved to make use of them, but it doesnt really matter because the psychic thing is not a major plot point at all. it comes in handy but is never really addressed.

 it is said to sort of take the place of language in the mrllwllch group, though the do also have a spoken language, but at the beginning of the book they seemed to need to speak it very little. then when they meet up with the modern humans they start learning their language and very rapidly become fluent, and often speak to modern humans and each other in either language. this makes the whole psychic thing just feel like an add-on because it seems that they are not reliant on it at all.

they also may have a better sense of smell, more strength, and possibly an ability to sleep anywhere, but that could be just better clothing technology. they have huge furr capes that they can wrap themselves up in completely. they also can travel much faster than modern humans for reasons that are never explained. 

and as a quick aside, the 3rd human group, called the baal-- their whole cannibalism and cruelty culture is so movie monster-ish i knocked off a few points just for them. 

characterization: 7. the movie monster evil stereotype is saved for the baal, but the modern humans are still the main characters and very few of the mrllwllch characters are differentiated enough from each other to call them real characters. the same can be said for many of the modern human hunter characters however, so it does not seem to be an issue of characterization so much as focus. the focus of the story is on the modern human clan so those characters are naturally more fleshed out. 

still, im a bit disappointed. there are 3 differentiated mrllwllch characters, one is the neanderthal version of the main character, the 2nds big character point is that he falls in love with a human when mrllwllch dont do monogamy, and the 3rd is possibly the most interesting but is a huge huge spoiler and only has 1 scene. 

overall, they are given the same character treatment as the modern human side characters. 

the baal, on the other hand... their entire culture seems to be based around violence and every baal we meet has the same views on the matter. why they are like this is sort of explained but not gone into depth over.

interspecies sex: 2. there are 2 interspecies couples in the book, one of them are between main characters and they have sex in-media-res as they say, though there are no written out sex scenes. 

one of the members of the other couple basically just yells out “yeah, we fucked!!!” after the other one was already dead, so no sex scene there either. 

hybrids: 1. though there are 2 ‘thal/mh couples that could have produced children, if they did/do, it didnt make it into the book. no hybrid characters and no mentions of hybrids, except in the general way in that the mrllwllch and the main modern human clan are said to eventually become one people, but neither of the aforementioned couples stay in that clan, so no hint to that happening anytime soon. 

accuracy: 4. some stuff is based on real science but a lot definitely isnt. like the neanderthals having stronger muscles on one side from doing repetitive movements with their dominant hands/arms is in there, but they also drink milk directly from the cow when they should all be lactose intolerant. they also all have red hair, and while there is some genetic evidence at least some of them could have been redheads, i dont think anyone thinks that that means they all were. they also use bone flutes, and the legitimacy of that is still debated. they were also probably not psychic.

theres also a bit where the mrllwllch have a huge cave where they place all of their deads bones, and if you dont get placed there eventually you cant get into neandertheaven. if paleoarcheologists had found a huge cave where millions of neanderthal bones had been placed lovingly that would be a big fucking deal and i dont think that thats happened. theres also another cave where 13 neanderthal skeletons are arranged in a circle that i dont think is based off real archaeology. they also use blow darts that are lovingly carved with animal designs, which i dont think have ever been attributed to neanderthals, though they were made out of wood and so impossible to prove they didnt make art out of a thing that wouldnt survive to the modern day. 

the venus statue stone carvings also make an appearance but are not attributed to either modern humans or neanderthals, or the baal for that matter. im pretty sure in real life all of the statues are assumed to be made by modern humans.

the baal are another issue all together. i keep bringing them back up because the book mentions several other “Two-feet” groups existing, but the baal are the only other ones that make a living appearance and its never made clear which other hominin they are. there are two main candidates in my mind: denisovans or homo floresiensis (hobbits). i say densiovans because i think there could have a time/place where they, modern humans, and neanderthals could have been near each other at the same time, and i say floresiensis because they are described as child-sized. possibly they could be homo erectus...? my homo knowledge extends to two hominins only, but the inclusion of another human group actually makes this book rather unique among neanderthal books. 

now, how accurate is it that floresiensis, erectus, or denisovans were hunting, enslaving, and butchering modern humans on a massive scale at any point in history? not very.... i also dont think weve ever found evidence of any other hominin ever modifying their teeth into sharp points but the baal do it.... all of the baal existing hurts the accuracy score TT0TT.

honestly though, i dont think its that bad that this book is just a fun bloody romp and not really accurate, it shows how recent scientific discoveries inspire the imagination and change the perspective of our past. maybe once im done with all my book readings i could write a neanderthal throughout history comparison report......

[teanaoverton]

still swimming.

i thought the first year of law school was suppose to be the toughest.  that was not the case for me. 

this past semester, the first of my 2L year was the most trying experience of my life. and sheesh, i have dealt with a lot of experiences. 

before we go any further, i think its important to tell you a little about myself and warn you of some contents that this post will contain. 

i am brutally honest. i dont believe in sugar coating the truth, and so i wont.  this post may be triggering to anyone who has every experienced sexual assault and/or sexual harassment. this post is my truth. and if you havent noticed by now, i do not like capital letters or formal punctuation. and i also cant spell. 

anyway, back to the story. 

the beginning of the semester started off rocky. i worked for my school and assisted with many task including orientation for the first year students and the title ix policy updates (thanks betsy *eyeroll*). 

unfortunately, i had to use that title ix policy. 

at the end of july, my key card to get in and out of my school’s parking deck was not working properly. i expressed my concern to a security officer. instead of walking to the gate, he walked with me to the parking deck and followed me to my car. we were the only two in the parking deck. 

while at my car, he asked me on a date. i was not interested in the slightest. but hey, im a girl all alone in the parking deck with a security guard. i had just heard about a woman getting killed for rejecting a man. and i sure tf have no lived enough to die. so i told him that school was starting soon and i did not have time. smooth escape i thought. and i also thought that would be it, i was wrong. 

the next week, i left the second floor (where i worked) to go downstairs and get a snack from the vending machines. he saw me and ran to try and pay for my snack, thoughtful gesture, but i refused as i did not want to lead him on. he then followed me to the elevators and handed me a note with his number on it. 

i had to cross paths with him to get to work, and he would make comments to me. once in particular troubled me.“you dont work on wednesdays, we could go out on a wednesday.” and that is when a red flag went off for me. 

why do you know my work schedule? ive already said i wasnt interest, why are you still actively pursing me? so i told my friend/co-worker about the interactions and asked her to walk me to my car.

while working late one evening, he came to the suite and started talking and staring. it was after hours and he was no longer on the clock. the other security officer on duty was probably home with his feet kicked up by this hour. instead of doing the same... he came to “see what was going on.” being aware of the situation and that i was uncomfortable, my friend engaged in the conversation so i didnt have to. bless her. 

during orientation, we had leftover food. my boss at the time asked me to take some to the security officers. my friend and i locked eyes knowing i sure tf was not about to lead this man on by any means. so, that is when i told my boss at the time that i was good off doing that. if you know who my boss was, you know she will get the truth out of you. 

one thing lead to another and boom, the incidents were reported to HR. who i was required to meet with. during the first week of classes, i met both HR and my boss to reassure them that i was not looking to get a black man fired, i just wanted to be left alone. 

time went by, nothing happened. i still was uncomfortable passing the security desk. i would have friends walk with me to the car so i wouldnt be alone bc guess who did rounds in the parking deck, yeah. you guessed it, him. 

unfortunately, my request was not fulfilled. he did not leave me alone. i was required to do a tabling event for work. guess where that tabling event was? right across from the security desk. gr8!!! he looked at me and loudly started saying "i shouldn't have to come to work and be uncomfortable.” he said this several times, causing others in the area to look and see what was going on. 

again, the tabling event was for work (different job btw). i was sitting next to my boss who was unaware of the previous interactions. she too asked “why is he screaming like that?” 

i sat there in shock. in silence. and on the clock, so i couldnt leave. 

why. should. he. have. to. come. to. work. and. feel. uncomfortable.

that was it, my breaking point. i felt unsafe. i expressed my concerns to the appropriate parties. eventually time went on and he was transferred. 

shortly after, repressed memories of my childhood rape surfaced during a therapy session. along with many thoughts: was i over exaggerating? did i lead him on in anyway? could i have done more to let him know i wasnt interested before reporting the incidents? was this my fault? 

guilt. 

i lost track of what was happening in real life because i was so distracted by the thoughts in my head. but as soon as i gained back some control, real life hit me again. my legal writing assignment had been posted. and guess what the topic was? sexual harassment in the work place. 

you mean to tell me, i have to do research, write a brief, and have an oral argument about sexual harassment? shit, someone call my therapist. 

i wrote some shit on some paper. and that was that.  what was happening in my classes? no clue.  what was happening in my life? no clue.  what was going on in the world? no clue. 

i got lost again. 

i just wanted to float and let the current carry me for awhile. i wanted to watch the clouds chase each other into different corners of the sky like freed kites who never worry about the meaning of away. i wanted to float. ive been swimming so long. 

but my thoughts eventually had an off switch and i was good again. then guess what? 

kavanaugh. 

here we fucking go again. 

the student body president signed an aba petition to conduct an impartial hearing on kav. and for some reason, some students were pissed. so they took it upon themselves to write a petition to have the sba president remove his name from the aba petition and issue an apology. 

i need you to pay very close attention for this part. 

i sat in class triggered. surrounded by people signing this petition while tears poured down my face. how fucking disgusting are you people. 

now the only reason i know what the petition actual was is because i am in sba. otherwise, i would have no clue it ever existed. want to know why? because the students who wrote the petition never asked me to sign it. trust me, i am not offended. in fact, im honored that they knew better than to bring some bullshit like that to me. but what was upsetting, when another student asked what was going on (why everyone was gathered looking at the petition), the authors of it said  “we’re just looking at some stuff about aba accreditation.” 

baby, if you gonna talk about it. be about it. smh. 

the petition surfaced. and the names on it, wow. people i looked up to. people i considered role models. women who are allegedly advocates for women. women in general. even a few self-proclaimed feminist.

wow. the names. 

so many people who have reached out to me when i told my story about being raped as a child. so many people i believed would be there for me if i asked for help dealing with the recent sexual harassment. so many frauds. 

their names, they were on it. big and bold.  

i didnt want to float anymore. i wanted to drown. 

i was suffering. isolating myself from everyone. i did the absolute bare minimum. i distanced myself from my family, my friends, from everyone around me. 

i didnt read for any of my classes.  i stopped caring.  i had thoughts about dropping out of school.  i still have the withdrawal email in my draft. 

i want to give someone credit for helping me through this, but i cant. this ocean, its so big. but hell, i havent drowned yet. 

meanwhile, im still swimming.

[scarletrebel]

oh god okay alright

so this is an au ive been thinking about for A While Now, cause im a dramatic fuck who cant finish anything and is living in wip city right now. 

rook (@mrpinstripesuit‘s boy because of course) somewhat reluctantly and through ~plot~ that i do have in mind actually turning into the next dredgen yor because in a small twist of events killing just one guardian in crucible wasnt enough for him.

cue avia being sent to hunt him down and getting marked down as scared and horny when she meets him for the first time

i do have a whole story planned for this and ive been thinking about this au a lot, i bashed this out in about three hours so there might be little errors here and there and critically i think it moves way too fast but hey i havent uploaded in so long so shrug emoji i hope its at least readable aha

When Ikora calls her to the Vanguard chambers, Avia is expecting Cayde’s presence too. Her Hunter Vanguard will do all he can to remind her of her class, even butting into mission briefings with Ikora.

So it comes as a shock to see him not present at the table when she walks in. Ikora turns to greet her, and Avia casts a glance over her shoulder at Zavala.

“Don’t tell me you finally let Cayde out of the Tower?”

Zavala throws her a grim look, mouth set into a line and Avia meets it with a morbid confusion.

“What’s his problem?” She asks Ikora, whose face is set in an equally grim measure.

“Cayde left for a brief scouting mission, it was only supposed to take him a few hours,” Ikora reaches down to her holopad, and from its screen rises a map of an area of Earth Avia has never heard before. “This is the European Dead Zone. It’s highly off limits to Guardians due to the fluxuating levels of both Darkness and Light.”

“Why’s that?”

“A shard of the Traveler exists in that region, cast off from the Collapse.”

Avia watches the images cycle in front of her. A giant cascading shard towers over a forest, buildings rusted and decaying sit in its shadow. Lightning bounces off of the shard, storm clouds gathering around it.

“Looks suitably ominous,” Avia mutters, quickly realising that now is not the time.

Ikora simmers. Avia’s come to notice this in the Warlock Vanguard, when something is wrong and pressing up against her mind but she must remain calm and composed in the face of it all. Avia recognises it well, a quiet storm betrayed by only the smallest of movements.

Ikora places a hand down on the table, her fingers trembling.

“Cayde left two days ago. He hasn’t returned.”

Avia allows her mind to wander as Ikora’s words hit her. Cayde, bold and brass finding his way through this forest as easy as walking through the Tower. Enemies of the Light crowding him, surrounding him, and whilst he doesn’t go down without a fight it’s that one mistake that could cost him.

“You want me to find him.”

Ikora thins her lips into a line, looking from the holo pad and down to Zavala. Avia misses the minute way they communicate to each other, and when Ikora turns to her she can tell the Warlock is somehow sadder.

“Bring him home, however that may be.”

She has to receive the highest clearance from Zavala, Ikora, and the Speaker in order to fly into the Dead Zone. She was advised by Zavala to touch down on the outside of the forest and make her way in. His monotone suggestion didn’t exactly inspire confidence, and it left her riddled with annoyance that she couldn’t shake.

“Levi?” She calls for her Ghost, and they materialise with a whirl.

“Are you afraid?” They ask, and Avia scoffs.

“No. I just… Feel like I’m not getting the full picture.”

“How do you mean?” They ask as Avia looks down the scope of her sniper rifle. She spots the forest a breath away, the trees thick and coarse. No hostiles as she scans the horizon, and answers her Ghost.

“There’s something Ikora wasn’t telling me.”

“You always think that,” Levi floats in front of her scope, making her lower it with a sigh. “She has no reason to lie to you.”

“Lying by omission is still lying.” Avia says.

“You’re not in the Reef anymore.” Levi’s voice is soft, a comfort.

“I’m not sure sometimes.”

She starts to walk, making her way down a cliff face and landing as quietly as she can on the ground. She walks towards a gathering of buildings, the same rusted ones Ikora showed her. The air is still and quiet. As she climbs the structure, the echo of her movements starts to set her on edge.

“What was Cayde scouting?” She wonders out loud. Levi hesitates next to her. Then he whirls his shell once, twice, and answers.

“I think… ‘Scouting’ might have been a loose term for whatever he was actually looking for out here.”

Avia smiles under her helmet. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“With the language in his recent reports, if you could even call them that, I think he was looking for something.”

“Like what?” Avia asks, moving through an empty room and shimmying through a grated wall. She jumps down and out of the building on the other side, trees at her left and right. She pushes in.

“Something he lost, I think.”

Avia hums, sticking close to the trees, trying to watch and be careful of the way her feet brush against the dead leaves and twigs on the ground. It’s not an environment she’s used to for stealth, but the same rules apply – stay close to the ground and keep your eyes open.

“Let me know when you detect anything.” She tells Levi.

“Aside from the insurmountable Darkness surrounding us alongside a general feeling of dread?” Levi asks, to which Avia laughs. “Can do.”

He was dangerously close to growing bored.

He sits with his back to the wall, flicking a knife up and down. In the cave system, dingy orange lights bounced off the walls. The Dredgen’s chattered around him, keeping to themselves mostly. He still didn’t understand what they wanted from him, what they expected from an exiled Guardian.

He’d told them as much, but still, they followed.

Some of their Ghost’s pitter around their heads, cowardly, having conversations they don’t want him to hear. He catches a glowing orb with his eyes more than once and it dissipates, causing the Hunter with his legs crossed to cast a glance over his shoulder. The Human stills the hand in her book, the scattered pieces of the scout rifle she’s trying to infuse into darkness around his feet.

“What?” He spits. The Guardian doesn’t cower, just tries to hide her smile as she begins to draw something in the soil between them.

“My Ghost thinks you’re dangerous.”

“Your Ghost is right,” he replies. He watches the gloved hand trace a pattern, and it takes him longer than he’d like to admit to recognise it as something Hive.

The Guardian places the main skeleton of her gun over the rune, speaking as she draws an intricate circle around it. “I think she doesn’t get it. I think the Light makes us blind, but I don’t think it’s our enemy either.”

“Aint that poetic.”

“You don’t want to lead us,” the Guardian starts. He stills his motions with the knife, catching it blade side, the metal biting into his skin. “But you could be the start.”

“The start of what, kid?”

The Guardian mutters something under her breath, and they both watch the runes on the floor glow a sickly green, a plume of smoke rising to intwine itself in the metal above it. The others around them stop to stare. When the spell finishes, the exo skeleton breathes with that same sickly energy, something black like ichor peeling off of it.

“I guess that’s up to you.”

A Warlock peels around the corner, harried, breathing hard.

“He’s gone.”

“What?” He asks, a quiet intensity in the way he tenses but doesn’t move.

The Warlock stutters, tries to find his voice. “He overpowered us. His Ghost did something, got herself out of her cage and then freed him. He subdued everyone so he could--”

He flings the knife between the Warlocks feet, a centimetre away from his foot. He stands and takes the hand canon off his hip, once laced in gold and now dark and peeling at the edges. With his fury it starts to feel warm in his hands, putting the scout rifle on the floor to shame. The young Guardian looks at it in awe, seeing the same runes she carved transcribed on the sides.

“Tell me which way he went and then get the hell out of here. Everyone.”

The Hunter pipes up from the floor as he walks towards the mouth of the cave system; “And then what? How will we find you?”

“I guess that’s up to you.”

“I don’t like this.”

“You’ve said that five times already, Levi.” Avia says, though her voice betrays her own unease.

They’ve been walking for what feels like hours. As they traversed deeper, the forest became darker, blocking out all sunlight. Levi told her a ways back that the influence of the shard was heaviest here, but what Avia didn’t mention was the solar flames beneath her skin, an ache to act. Something was coming, her gut felt out of sorts.

“Any sign of him?” Avia asks. Levi extends his shell and scans as far as he can.

“No, I – wait!” Avia perks up as her Ghost scans once more, pulling their shell back to themselves with an excited whir. “Cayde’s Ghost, she’s near!”

“Lead the way,” Avia says, following her marker and picking up the pace.

She breaks into a run as she gets closer, nearing a large tree trunk on its side.

“Wait!” Levi yells into her comm. She slides to take cover by the tree, her mouth opening to ask what’s wrong.

She hears two shots, the way they ring through the air all too familiar. Cayde yells, goes down, and the person wielding Thorn catches up to him.

She pops her head up and over the tree, looking into a circular clearing. Her Vanguard lies on his side, his Ghost fussing over him tirelessly. She watches another man move closer, black armour from head to toe, and she sees that his gun isn’t the hand canon she wields. No, it’s similar in nature, but corrupted in a completely different way.

“Is that a Guardian?” She whispers, as the man in question walks lazily over to where Cayde rights himself onto his back. Her Vanguard is hurt, his Exo plating damaged beyond recognition.

“No,” Levi answers. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“Aint this a little too – ahh, god – easy for you?” Cayde asks, pulling his Ghost to his chest. She gets the message and dissipates as the man stands over him.

“You made it hard enough when you ran the first time,” he says, pulling his helmet off. Ebony hair falls out around his shoulders, dark brown eyes boring holes into the Exo below him. Avia holds a breath. He’s human. But there’s something about him that isn’t. “I’m starting to think you just enjoy this.”

“I’m not the sicko running around like the next Dredgen Yor,” Cayde spits back. There’s a venom that Avia can’t place.

“Then why did you even try to find me?” The man asks, kneeling down, regarding Cayde like he’s playing with his food. “Trying to save my sorry soul?”

“Well, that’s real dramatic Rook, maybe those Dredgens have finally – ahh!”

The man, whose name is apparently Rook, fires a round into Cayde’s chest.

“He’s running on auxiliary power already Avia, we have to get in there.” Levi’s voice is small and strained.

“Wait,” she finds herself saying.

Cayde coughs and splutters, the machines where his lungs would be whirring in protest. “I’m sorry, Rook. But I know you -- you don’t -- you don’t want to be this.”

Rook stands, aiming his gun down and Avia sees the sightline – right between Cayde’s eyes.

“It’s too late to give me that choice.”

Avia hops over the tree and summons her Golden Gun, using the first blast to knock the gun from Rook’s hand. The Darkness around it absorbs the blast but knocks it off centre, and his eyes find her immediately. She aims the second for his chest, which causes him to stutter back, and she takes the opening to run forward and place herself over Cayde.

The man in black rights himself and they aim their guns at each other, Avia still engulfed in solar flame as something darker roils off of Rook’s body. When her Light runs its course, the solar light makes way for the Thorn in her hands to make itself known.

Rook looks her in the eyes, down to the gun in her hands, and then laughs.

“Oh you are a bunch of hypocrites, aren’t you Cayde?”

“Get out of here,” Avia warns. Levi scans Cayde’s body, coaxing his own Ghost forward so they can make enough repairs to keep Cayde stable for now. “Last chance.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what this is, do you?” A wicked smile curls up Rook’s face as he lowers his own gun, taking a few steps forward.

“Shut up.” Avia spits back.

“Nah, I’d rather tell you all about how you’ve got a Guardian killer in your hands there. One that your Vanguard keep around for god knows what reason.” He inches closer, and Avia steps forward to meet him. His hands come up in mock surrender, and she ignores how her stomach curls at his easy smile. It’s infuriating, to some degree.

“The only Guardian killer I see is you,” she starts. “Go. Now.”

“Or else what?” He asks. He moves forward once again, and Avia misses the time in between him feeling like he was a mile away and being pressed up against the Thorn. She can practically feel his heartbeat through the gun.

Thank the Traveler she’s wearing her helmet.

“Avia,” Cayde rasps below her. He sounds better, and she hears the soft dissipation of a Ghost that must be his. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“That is rich coming from you.” She mutters, and the man in front of her has the audacity to laugh as if they’ve known each other for years.

“Avia,” he says, his eyes raking down her body. “Pretty name.”

“I am seconds away from putting you down for good.” She bites back. He smiles at her reaction and it sends a wave of embarrassment through her.

“But you won’t. Killing Guardians is bad, remember?”

“You’re not a Guardian.”

Rook’s face falls, impassive and unreadable as the darkness rolls off him, still steady.

In a flash he grabs Avia’s wrist, and places the Thorn underneath his chin, his other hand on her waist as he looks at her and says; “I’m the same kinda Guardian that you are, sweetheart.”

She’s caught off guard, a steady and aggravating heat pooling in her chest. She doesn’t realise when his finger curls around hers on the trigger, squeezing it.

She pulls back as quick as she can, the bullet sounding off between them. She makes to reach for a knife, throw it at his chest and make some space but then she’s back on her ship, Cayde still on the floor below her.

Levi whirls in front of her; “Are you alright?”

“I…” She starts, shaking herself and taking her helmet off. Cayde groans behind her, and she turns and kneels at his side.

“Nice one, hot shot.” He splutters. Avia rolls her eyes, hooking an arm around his back and moving him into the co-pilot chair.

“Who was he?” She asks once he’s sat down, still clutching his chest as though some parts will fall out of him.

“That’s a long story.”

Avia set’s a course for the Tower, plotting the longest route she can find without raising suspicion.

“You’ve got time.”

[cute-aggression-9]

I hate the fucking world, to many god damn fuckers it in. to many thoughts about societies all wrapped up together in this place called AMERICA. everyone has their own god damn opinions on every damn thing and you may be saying "well what makes you so different?". because I have something only me and V have, SELF AWARENESS, Call it exortenstiolism or whatever the fuck u want. we know what are to this world and what everyone else is. we learn more than what caused the civil war and how to simplify quadratics in school. we have been watching you people. we know what you think and how you act, all talk and no actions. people who are said to be brave or couragous are usually just STUPID then they say later that they did it on purpose cause they are brave when they did on fucking accident. GOD everything is so corrupt and so filled with opinions little and points of view and peoples' own little agendas and shedules. this isnt a world anymore, its H.O.E. and [no]one knows it. self awareness is a wonderful thing. I know I will die soon, so will you and everyone else. maybe will we be lucky and a comet will smash us back to day 1. people say it is immoral to follow others, they say be a leader. well here is a fuckin news flash for you stupid shits, everyone is a follower! everyone who says they arent a follower and then dresses diff. or acts diff. ... They got that from something they saw on TV or in film or in life. no originality, how many JO MAMMA jokes are there and how many do u think are original and not copied. KEINE. Its a fucking filthy place we live in. all these standards and laws and Great Expectations (webb) are making people into robots even though they might "think" they arent and try to deny it. no matter how hard they try to NOT copy someone I still AM! except for this fucking piece of paper right here, and B.T.W spelling is stupid unless I say. I say spell it how it sounds, it's the fuckin easiest way. hey try this sometime, when someone tells you something, ask "why?" eventually they will be stumped and cant answer anymore. thats because they only know what they need to know in society and school, not real life science. they will end up saying words to this "because! Just shut up!" people that only know stupid facts that arent important should be shot, what fucking use are they. NATURAL SELECTION. KILL all retards, people w/ brain fuck ups, drug adics, people cant figure out to use a fucking lighter. GEEEAWD! people spend millions of dollars on saving the lives of retards, and why. I don't buy that shit like "oh hes my son though!" so the fuck what, he aint normal, kill him, put him out his misery. he is only a waste of time and money, then people say "But he is worth the time, he is human too" no he isnt, if he was then he would swalow a bullet cause he would realize what a fucking waste and burden he was. -- 4/10/98   as I said before, self awareness is a wonderful thing. I know what all you fuckers are thinking and what to do to piss you off and make you feel bad. I always try to be different, but I always end up copying someone else. I try to be a mixture of different things and styles but when I step out of myself I end up looking like others or others THINK I am copying. One big fucking problem Is people telling me what to fuckin do, think, say, act, and everything else. Ill do what you say IF I feel like it. But people (I.E. parents, cops, God, teachers) telling me what to [arrow points to do, think, say, act, and everything else] just makes me not want to fucking do it! thats why my fucking name is REB!!! no one is worthy of shit unless I say they are, I feel like GOD and I wish I was, having everyone being OFFICIALLY lower than me. I already know that I am higher than almost anymore in the fucking welt in terms of universal Intelligence and where we stand in the universe compared to the rest of the UNIV. and if you think I dont know what Im talking about then you can just "ßUCK DICH" and saugen mein Hund! Isnt america supposed to be the land of the free? how come, If im free, I cant deprive a stupid fucking dumbshit from his possessions If he leaves then sitting in the front seat of his fucking van out in plain sight and in the middle fucking nowhere on a Fri fucking day night. NATURAL SELECTION. fucker should be shot. same thing with all those rich snotty toadies at my school. fuckers think they are higher than me and everyone else with all their $ just because they were born into it? Ich denk NEIN. BTW, "sorry" is just a word. it doesnt mean SHIT to me. everyone should be put to a test. an ULTIMATE DOOM test, see who can survive in an environtment using only smarts and military skills. put them in a doom world. no authority, no refuge, no BS copout excuses. If you cant figure out the area of a triangle or what "cation" means, you die! if you cant take down a demon w/ a chainsaw or kill a hell prince w/ a shotgun, you die! fucking snotty rich fuckheads [Censored by J.C.Sheriff Office] who rely on others or on sympathy or $ to get them through life should be put to this challenge. plus it would get rid of all the fat, retarded, crippled, stupid, dumb, ignorant, worthless people of this world. no one is worthy of this planet only me and who ever I choose. there is just no respect for anything higher than your fucking boss or parent. everyone should be shot out into space and only the people I saw should be left behind. 4/12/98 ever wonder why we go to school? besides getting a so called education. its not to obvious to most of you stupid fucks but for these who think a little more and deeper you should realize it. its societies way of turning all the young people into good little robots and factory workers thats why we sit in desks in rows and go by bell schedules, to get prepared for the real world cause "thats what its like". well god damit no it isnt! one thing that seperates us from other animals is the fact that we can carry on actual thoughts. so why don't we?  people go on day by day. rutine shit. why cant we learn in school how we want to. why cant we sit on desks and on shelves and put our feet up and relax while we learn? cause thats not what the "real world is like" well hey fuckheads, there is no such thing as an actual "real world". its just another word like justice, sorry, pity, religion, faith, luck and so on. we are humans. if we dont like something we have the fucking ability to change! but we dont, atleast U dont. I would. U just whine/bitch thoughtout life but never do a goddamn thing to change anything. "man can eat, drink, fuck, and hunt and anything else he does is madness" - Based on Lem's quote. boy oh fuckin boy is that true. when I go NBK, and people say things like, "oh it was so tragic," or "oh he is crazy!" or "It was bloody!" I think, so the fuck what, you think thats a bad thing? just because your mommy and daddy told you blood and violence is bad, you think its a fucking law of nature? wrong, only science and math are true, everything, and I mean everyfuckingthing else is man made. my doctor wants to put me on medication to stop thinking about so many things and to stop getting angry. well, I think that anyone doesnt like me is just bullshitting themselves. try it sometime if you think you are worthy, which you probly will you little shits, drop all your beliefs and views and ideas that have been burned into your head and try to think about why your here. but I bet most of you fuckers cant even think that deep, so that is why you must die. how dare you think that I and you are part of the same species when we are sooooooo different. you arent human you are a Robot. you dont take advantage of your capabilites given to you at birth. you just drop them and hop onto the boat and headdown the stream of life with all the other fuckers of your type. well god damit I wont be a part of it! I have thought to much, realized to much, found out to much, and I am to self aware to just stop what I am thinking and go back to society because what I do and think isnt "right" or "morally accepted" NO, NO, NO GOD FUCKING DAMIT NO!I will sooner die than betray my own thoughts. but before I leave this worthless place, I will kill who ever I deam unfit for anything at all. especially life. and i fyou pissed me off in the past, you will die if I see you. because you might be able to piss off others and have it eventually all blow over, but not me. I dont forget people who wronged me. like [Censored by J.C. Sheriff Office] he will never get a chance to read this because he will be dead by me before this is discovered  -- 4/21/98 The human race sucks. human nature is smuthered out by society, jobs, and work and school. instincts are deleted by laws. I see people say things that contradict themselves, or people that dont take any advantage to the gift of human life. they waste their minds on memorizing the stats of every college basketball player or how many words should be an a report when they should be using their brain on more important things. the human race isnt worth fighting for anymore. WWII was the last war worth fighting and was the last time human life and human brains did any good any made us proud. now, with the government having scandals and conspiracies all over the fucking place and lying to everyone all the time and with worthless pointless mindless discraceful TV shows on (scratched out) and with everyone ub-fucking-sessed with hollywood and beauty and fame and glamour and politics and anything famous, people just arent worth saving. Society may not realize what is happening but I have; you go to school, to get used to studying and learning how youre "supposed to" so that drains or filters out a little bit of human nature. but thats after your parents taught you whats right and wrong even though you may think differently, you still must to have more of your human nature blown out of your ass. society trys to make everyone act the same by burying all human nature and instincts. Thats what school, laws, jobs, and parents do If they realize it or not and them, the few who stick to their natural instincts are casted out as psychos or lunatics or strangers or just plain different. crazy, strange, weird, wild, these words are not bad or degrading.. if humans were let to live how we would naturaly it would be chaos and anarchy and the human race wouldnt probably last that long, but hey guess what, thats how its supposed to be!!!!! society and goverments are only created to have order and calmness, which is exactly the opposite of pure human nature. take away all your laws and morals and just see what you can do. if the goverment was one entity it would be thinking "hey, lets make some order here and calm these crazy fucks down so we can be constructive and fight other goverments in our own little so called self created "civilizied world" and get rid of all those damn insticts everyone has" well shit I'm to tired wright anymor tonight, so until next time, fuck you all -- 5/6/98   It has been confirmed, after getting my yearboook and watching people like [censored] and [censored] the human race isn't worth fighting for, only worth killing. give the Earth back to the animals, they deserve it infinitely more than we do. nothing means anything more, most quotes are worthless, especially the rearranged ones like "dont fight your enemies, make your enemies fight" you know, quotes that use the same phrase just rearranged, Dumbfuck shit [illegible] wear. its funny, people say "you shouldn't be so different." to me, and 1st I say fuck you dont tell me what I should and shouldn't be and 2ND mother fuckers different is good, I dont want to be like you or anyone which is almost impossible this day w/ all the little shits trying to be "original-copycats", I expect shits like you to criticize anyone who isnt one of your social words; "normal" or "civilized" - see tempest and Caliban.  allyou degrading worthless shits. all caught up and brainwashed into the 90's society. "what? you AREN'T going to college, are you are crazy!" holy SHIT that is one fucking BIG Quote that just proves my point. step back and look at yourself fuckers, I dare you, maybe I'll get lucky and you'll step back to far like Nick in Elm3. w/ the same concequence.  -- 5/9/98  wooh, different pen. HA! alright you pathetic fools listen up; I have figured it out. the human race strives for exellence in life and community always wanting to bring more =good= into the comm. and nulify =bad= things. anyone who thinks differently than the majority or the leaders is deamed "unusual" or weird or crazy. people want to be a part of something; a family, a service, a club, a union, a community, whatever. thats what humans want. who cares waht you as an individual thinks, you must do what you are told, whether it is jump of a bridge or drive on the right side of the road. protesters in the past protested because the human race that was dominant (Ghandi and the Brits or the king and the americans) wasnt working out = they had fault = they failed = their ideas didnt work. humans dont change that much, they only get better technology to do their work quicker/easier. people always say we shouldnt be racist. why not? Blacks ARE different, like it or not they are. they started on the bottom so why not keep em there. it took the centuries to convince us that they are equal but they still use their color as an excuse or they just discriminate us because we are white. Fuck you, we should ship yer black asses back to Afri-fucking-ca were you came from. we brought you here and we will take you back. America=White. Gays....well all gays, ALL gays, should be killed.  mit keine fragen. lesbians are fun to watch if they are hot but still, its not human. its a fucking disease. you dont see bulls or roosters trying to fuck do you? no, I didn't think so. women you will always be under men. its been seen throughout nature, males are almost always doing the dangerous shit while the women stay back. its your animal instincts, deal with it or commit suicide, just do it quick. thats all for now. -- 5/20/98   If you recall your history the Nazis came up with a "final solution" to the Jewish problem... kill them all. well incase you havent figured it out yet, I say, "K I L L  M A N K I N D" no one should survive. we all live in lies. people are saying they want to live in a perfect society, well utopia doesnt exist. It is human to have flaws.   you know what, Fuck it. why should I have to explain myself to you survivors when half of the shit I say you shitheads wont understand and if you can then woopie fucking do. that just means you have something to say as my reason for killing. and the majority of the audience wont even understand my motives either! they'll say "ah, hes crazy, hes insane, oh well, I wonder if the bulls won." you see! it's fucking worthless! all you fuckers should die! DIE! what the fuck is the point if onlu some people see what I am saying, there will always be ones who dont, ones that are to dumb or naive or ignorrant or just plain retarded. If I cant pound it into every single persons head then it is pointless. fuck mercy fuck justic fuck morals fuck civilized fuck rules fuck laws... DIE manmade words...people think they apply to everything when they dont/cant. theres no such thing as True Good or True Evil, its all relative to the observer. its just all nature, chemistry, and math. deal with it. but since dealing with it seems impossible for mankind, since we have to slap warning labels on nature, then... you die. burn, melt, evaporate, decay, just go the fuck away!!!! YAAAAAH!!!! - 6/12/98- KEIN MITLEID "when in doubt, confuse the hell out the enemy" - Fly 9/2/98 wait mercy doesnt exist....   heres something to chew on....: today I saw a program on the discovery channel about satelites and radar and aircraft and stuff, and at the end of the show the narrator said some things that made me think "damn, we are so advanced, we kick ass, america is awesome, we have so many things in our military, we would kick anyones ass." for a minute I actually had some pride in our nation.... then I realized, "hey, this only the Good things that I am seeing here. only the Pros, not the cons. maybe thats what people see, only the Pros, and thats why they are under control. but me, I see all... you can only blind me for so long. but alas, I have realized that Yes, the human race is still indeed doomed. It just needs a few kick starts, like me, and hell, maybe even [censored]. If can whipe a few cities off the map, and even the fuckhead Holding the map, then great. hmm, just thinking if I want ALL humans dead or maybe just the quote-unquote "civilized, developed, and known-of" places on Earth. maybe leave little tribes of natives in the rain forest er something. hmm, I'll think about that. eh. done for tonight -REB- 6/13/98   As part of the human race, and having the great pleasure of being blessed with a brain, I can think.  Humans can do whatever they want. There are no laws of nature that prevent humans from making choices. maybe from actually DOING some of those choices, but not from making the choice. If a man choosses to speed while driving home one day, then it is his fault for whatever happens. If he crashes into a school bus full of kidies and they all burn to death, its his fault. Its only a tragedy if you think it is, and then its only a tragedy in your own mind. so you shouldn't expect others to think that way also. it could also be a miracle for another person. maybe the bus stopped the car from plowing into a little old lady walking on the sidewalk. one could think it was a "miracle" that she wasnt hit. you see, anything and everything that happens in our world is just that, a HAPPENING. anything else is relative to the observer, but yet we try to have a "universal law" or "code" of what is good and bad and that just isnt fucking correct. we shouldn't be allowed to do that. we arent GODS. just because we are at the top of the food chain with our technology doesnt mean we can be "judges" of nature. sure we can think what we can think what we want, but you can "think" and "believe" you can judge people and nature all you want, but you are still wrong! why should your morals apply to everyone else. "morale" is just another word. and thats it. I think we are all a waste of natural resources and should be killed off, and since humans have the ability to choose... and I'm human... I think I will choose to kill and damage as much as nature allows me to so take that. fuck you, and eat napalm + lead! HA! only Nature can stop me. I know I could get shot by a cop after only killing a single person, but hey guess the fuck WHAT! I chose to kill that one person so get over it! Its MY fault! not my parents, not my brothers, not my friends, not my favorite bands, not computer games, not the media. IT is MINE! go shut the fuck up! -REB- 7/29/98     someones bound to say "what were they thinking?" when we go NBK or when we were planning it, so this what I am thinking. "I have a goal to destroy as much as possible so I must not be sidetracked by my feelings of sympathy, mercy, or any of that, so I will force myself to believe that everyone is just another monster from Doom like FH or FS or demons, so It's either me or them. I have to turn off my feelings." keep this is mind, I want to burn the world, I want to kill everyone except about 5 people, who I will name later, so If you are reading this you are lucky you escaped my rampage because I wanted to kill you. It will be very tricky getting all of our supplies, explosives, weaponry, ammo, and then hiding it all and then actually planting it all so we can achieve our goal. but if we get busted any time, we start killing then and there, just like Wilks from the AlIENS books, I aint going out without a fight. Once I finally start my killing, keep this in mind, there are probably about 100 people max in the school alone who I dont want to die, the rest, MUST FUCKING DIE! If I didnt like you or if you pissed me off and lived through my attacks, consider yourself one lucky god damn NIGGER. Pity that a lot of the dead will be a waste in someways, like dead hot chicks who were still bitches, they could have been good fucks. oh well, too fucking bad. life isnt fair... not by a long fuckin shot when Im at the wheel, too. God I want to torch and level everything in this whole fucking area but Bombs of that size are hard to make, and plus I would need a fuckin fully loaded A-10 to get every store on wadsworth and all the buildings downtown. heh, Imagine THAT ya fuckers, picture half of denver on fire just from me and Vodka. napalm on sides of skyscrapers and car garages blowing up from exploded gas tanks.... oh man that would be beautiful. -- 10/23/98   you know what, I feel like telling about lies. I lie a lot. almost constant. and to everybody, just to keep my own ass out of the water. and by the way (side note) I dont think I am doing this for attention, as some people may think. lets see, what are some big lies I have told; "yeah I stopped smoking," "for doing it not for getting caught," "no I'm havent been making more bombs," "no I wouldn't do that," and of course, countless of other ones, and yeah I know that I hate liers and I am one myself, oh fucking well. Its ok If I am a hypocrite, but no one else. because I am higher then you people, no matter what you say if you disagree I would shoot you And I am one racist mother fucker too, fuck the niggers and spics and chinks, unless they are cool, but sometimes they are so fucking retarded they deserve to be ripped on. some people go through life begging to be shot. and white fucks are just the same. if I could nuke the world I would, because so far I hate you all. there are probly around 10 people I wouldnt want to die, but hey, who ever said life is fair should be shot like the others too. - 11/1/98   heh heh heh. I sure had fun this weekend. lets see, what really happened. before going to the Rock n Bowl we stopped by King Soopers and one and [censored] picked up some big ass stoges. we then went to the Rock n Bowl and I had a few cigarettes and one of brand new cigars. we then went back to [censored] house where her mom had previousely bought us all a fuck load of liquor. personally I had asked for Tequilla and Irish cream, Vodka got his vodka, and there was beer, whiskey, schnopps, puckers, scotch and of course, orange juice! so we had some fun there playing cards and making drinks. we eventually made it to bed at about 5AM. got up at 10, went to safeway got some donouts and then I took Vodka home. the bottle of Tequilla is almost full and is in car, right by my spare tire and right by the bottle of irish cream. heh heh. I'll have to find a spot for those. and by the way, this nazi report is boosting my love of killing even more. like the early Nazi government, my brain is like a sponge, sucking up everything that sounds cool and leaving out all that is worthless, thats how Nazism was formed and thats how I will be too! 11/8/98   Fuck you Brady! all I want is a couple of guns, and thanks to your fucking bill I will probably not get any! come on, I'll have a clean record and I only want for personal protection. Its not like I'm some person who would go on a shooting spree.... fuckers. Ill probably end up nuking everything and fucking robbing some gun collectors house. Fuck, thatll be be hard. oh well, just as long as I kill a lot of fucking people. Everyone is always making fun of me because of how I look, how fucking weak I am and shit, well I will get you all back: ultimate fucking revenge here. you people could have shown more respect, treated me better, asked for my knowledge or guidence more, treated me more like senior, and maybe I wouldn't have been as ready to tear your fucking heads off. then again, I have always hated how I looked, I make fun of people who look like me, sometimes without even thinking sometimes just because I want to rip on myself. Thats where a lot of my hate grows from, the fact that I have practically no selfesteem, especially concerning girls and looks and such. therefore people make fun of me... constantly... therefore I get no respect and therefore I get fucking PISSED. as of this date I have enough explosives to kill about 100 people, and then if I get a couple bayonetts, swords, axes, whatever I'll be able to kill at least 10 more. and that just isnt enough! GUNS! I need guns! Give me some fucking firearms! 11/12/98   HATE! I'm full of hate and I Love it. I HATE PEOPLE and they better fucking fear me if they know whats good for em. yes I hate and I guess I want others to know it, yes I'm racist and I don't mind. Niggs and spics bring it on themselves, and another thing, I am very racist towards white trash p.o.s.s like [censored] and [censored] they deserve the hatred, otherwise I probly wouldnt hate them. Its a tragedy, the human nature of people will lead to their downfall. Peoples human nature will get them killed. whether by me or Vodka, Its happened before, and not just in school shootings like those pussy dumbasses over in Minnesota who squeeled. throughtout history, Its our fucking nature! I know how people are and why and I cant stand it! I love the nazis too... by the way, I fucking cant get enough of the swastika, the SS, and the iron cross. Hitler and his head boys fucked up a few times and it cost them the war, but I love their beliefs and who they were, what they did, and what they wanted. I know that form of gov couldn't have lasted long once the human equation was brought in, but damnit it sure looked good. every form of gov leads to downfalls, everything will always fuck up or yeah something. its all DOOMed god damnit. this is beginning to make me get in a corner. I'm showing too much of myself, my views and thoughts, people might start to wonder, smart ones will get nosey and something might happen to fuck me over, I might need to put on one helluva mask here to fool you all some more. fuck fuck fuck it'll be very fucking hard to hold out until April. If people would give me more compliments all of this might still be avoidable... but probably not. Whatever I do people make fun of me, and sometimes directly to my face. I'll get revenge soon enough. fuckers shouldn't have ripped on me so much huh! HA! then again its human nature to do what you did... so I guess I am also attacking the human race. I cant take it, Its not right... true... correct... perfect. I fucking hate the human equation. Nazism would be fucking great if it werent for individualism and our natural instinct to ask questions. you know what maybe I just need to get laid. maybe that'll just change some shit around. thats another thing, I am a fucking dog. I have fantasies of just taking someone and fucking them hard and strong. someone like [censored] were I just pick her up, take her to my room, tear off her shirt and pants and just eat her out and fuck her hard. I love flesh... weisses fleisch! dein weisses fleisch emegt mich soo... Ich bin dech nur ein gigilo! I want to grab a few different girls in my gym class, take them into a room, pull their pants off and fuck them hard. I love flesh... the smooth legs, the large breasts, the innocent flawless body, the eyes, the hair; jet black, blond, white, brown. ahhh I just want to fuck! call it teenage hormones or call it a crazy fuckin racist rapist... BJ ist mir egal. I just want to be surrounded by the flesh of a woman, someone like [censored] who I wanted to just fuck like hell, she made me practically drool, when she wore those shorts to work.. instant hard on. I couldnt stop staring. and others like [censored] in my gym class, [censored] or whatever in my gym class, and others who I just want to overpower and engulf myself in them. mmmm I can taste the sweet flesh now... the salty sweat, the animalistic movement... Iccchhh... lieeebe...... fleisccchhhh. who can I trick into my room first? I can sweep someone off their feet, tell them what they want to hear, be all nice and sweet, and then "fuck em like an animal, feel them from the inside" as Reznor said. oh... thats something else... that one NIN video I saw, broken or closer or something, the where the guy is kidnapped and tortured like hell... actual hell. I want to do that too. I want to tear a throat out with my own teeth like a pop can. I want to gut someone with my hand, to tear a head off and rip out the heart and lungs from the neck, to stab someone in the gut, shove it up to the heart, and yank the fucking blade out of their rib cage! I want to grab some weak little freshman and just tear them apart like a fucking wolf. show them who is god. strangle them, squish their head, bite their temples into the skull, rip off their jaw. rip off their colar bones, break their arms in half and twist them around, the lovely sounds of bones cracking and flesh ripping, ahh... so much to do and so little chances. -- 11/17/98 "weisses fleisch" - perfect - song - for - me   Well folks, today was a very important day in the history of R. Today along with Vodka and someone else who I wont name, we went downtown and purchased the following; a double barrel 12ga. shotgun, a pump action 12ga. shotgun, a 9mm carbine, 250 9mm rounds, 15 12ga slugs, 40 shotgun shells, 2 switch blade knives, and total of 4 - 10 round clips for the carbine. we....... have.... GUNS! we fucking got em you sons of bitches! HA! HAHAHA! neener! Booga Booga. heh. its all over now. this capped it off, the point of no return. I have my carbine, shotgun, ammo and knife all in my trunk tonight and theyll there till tomorrow... after school you know its really a shame. I had a lot of fun at that gun show, I would have loved it if you were there dad. we would done some major bonding. would have been great. oh well. but, alas, I fucked up and told [censored] about my "flask". that really disappoints me. [censored] I know you thought it was good for me... in the long run and all that shit, smart of you to give me a such big raise and then rat me out, you figure it was supposed to cancel each other? god damn flask, that just fucked me over big time. now you all will be on my ass even more than before about being on track. I'll get around it though, If have to cheat and lie to everyone then thats fine. THIS is what I am motivated for, THIS is my goal. THIS is what I want to do with my life! you know whats weird, I dont feel like a punching through a door because of the flask deal, probly cause I am fucking armed now. I feel more confident, stronger, and more Godlike. I have confidence in my ability to dese(cei)ve people. hopefully Ill make it to April, but that might not happen. Ug, Its been a busy weekend, I need to sleep, I'll continue tomorrow. 11/22/98   yesterday we fired our first actual firearms ever. 3 rounds from the carbine. taught that ground a thing or 2. I even had the 2 clips in my pocket while talking to vodkas dad about senior ditch day. God it felt great firing off that bad boy, and hopefully I'll be able to get more than just 4 clips for it. I dubbed my shotgun "Arlene" after Arlene Sanders from the DOOM books. She always did love the shotgun. Vodka's DB is looking very fucking awesome, all cut down to the proper lengths. this is a bitch trying to keep up on homework while working on my guns, bombs, and lying. by the way, I bought that flask in the mall and I had a friend fill it up w/ scotch whiskey, only had about 3 swigs in the 3 weeks I had it. plus monday I gave my T and IC to Vodka, just in case. I never really did like alcohol, just wasn't my thing, but It felt good to just have around. that argument on the 22nd was a real bitch, but I think I should have won a fucking oscar. I even quoted a few movies, remember "what the hell am I gonna do now man?! what am I gonna do!?" thats good ole Hudson from aliens. Sounded good too. and hey goddamnit I would have been a fucking great marine, It would have given me a reason to do good. and I would never drink and drive, either. It will be weird when we actually go on the rampage. hopefully we will have plenty of clips and bombs. Im gonna still try and get my calico 9mm. just think, 100 rounds without reloading.... hell yeah! We actually may have a chance to get some machine pistols thanks to the Brady bill. If we can save up about 200$ real quick and find someone who is 21+ we can go to the next gun show and find a private dealer and buy ourselves some bad-ass AB-10 machine pistols. Clips for those things can get really fucking big too. 12/3/98   Woohoo, I'll never have to take a final again! feels good to be free. I just love Hobbes and Nietzche. Well tomorrow I'll be ordering 9 more 10 round clips for my carbine. I'm gonna be so fucking loaded in about a month. the big things we need to figure now is the time bombs for the commons and how we will get them in and leave then there to go off, without any fucking Jews finding them. I wonder if anyone will write a book on me. sure is a ton of symbolism, double meanings, themes, appearance vs reality shit going on here. oh well, it better be fuckin good if it is writtin. 12/17/98   heh, get this. KMFDM's new album is entitled  "Adios" and it's release date is in April. how fuckin appropriate, a subliminal final "Adios" tribute to Reb and Vodka. thanks KMFDM... I ripped the hell outa the system 12/20/98  jesus christ that was fucking close. fucking shitheads at the gun shop almost dropped the whole project. oh well, thank god I can BS so fucking well. I went and picked up those babies today, so now I got 13 of those niggers. WOOHAH. the stereo is very nice, but having no insurance payments to worry about so I could concentrate of BOMBS would have been better. oh well, I think I'll have enough. now I just need to get Vodka another gun. 12/29/98   Months have passed. Its the first Friday night in the final month. much shit has happened. Vodka has a Tec 9, we test fired all of our babies, we have 6 time clocks ready, 39 crickets, 24 pipe bombs, and the napalm is under construction. Right now I'm trying to get fucked and trying to finish off these time bombs. NBK came quick. why the fuck cant I get any? I mean, I'm nice and considerate and all that shit, but nooooo. I think I try to hard. but I kinda need to considering NBK is closing in. The amount of dramatic irony and foreshadowing is fucking amazing. Everything I see and I hear I incorporate into NBK somehow. Either bombs, clocks, guns, napalm, killing people, any and everything finds some tie to it. feels like a Goddamn movie sometimes. I wanna try to put some mines and trip bombs around this town too maybe. Get a few extra flags on the scoreboard. I hate you people for leaving me out of so many fun things. And no don't fucking say, "well thats your fault" because it isnt, you people had my phone #, and I asked and all, but no. no no no dont let the weird looking Eric KID come along, ohh fucking nooo. 4/3/99

[anurean99]

Of Pimps & Proxénètes

I dont have social workers. I have pimps.

They seem to be purposefully making mistakes: as in fucking up and jerking off at work in ways that suggest thry want me to stay and make love to all these kinky pervy police Ive been courting online. Do remember, this is when and where I am being a terrorist felon and so are police & social workers.

Im still here. I reported the place as a terrorist cell when I first got here. People smoking dope, christians serving food, women with guns, females with an opinion, that all equates to terrorism. Pakistan was bombed for the same reason: women where given the ability to speak their minds.

The people masquerading as my social workers, are all sodomous whores who've decided to exhert authority over my person and case. May I sue them for social damages, psychological trauma, undue stress, & for loss of wages? Theyve now wasted 2 more years of my life. This, after the people who kidnapped me wasted 10 years of my time. Im supposed to be rehabilitated. How is it I have a hookup with The Chief of Staff? I seem to have annother Airforce General than the one who hired me to help him move from his Chicago townhome. Oh, it must be that I have a social worker deciding to make me use those condoms they pass out like candy at the front desk.

Kill these people. Theyre sex trafficking.

They told Sean that his mother, sister, and grandmother died. He didnt have a sister & his grandmother died 15 years ago. I hope they wheren't supposed to be notifying me of this. They sat him down and respectfully told him that people who didnt exist where killed. Then they kicked him out feeling threatened because he was related to a military general.

Im still here. I was supposed to be in Kansas two years ago.

However the ticket bought couldnt be printed due to rioting and protest our staff took part in themselves.

The serial killing child touchers are still online.

The serial killing child touchers are still making paliperidone.

I wish they would make it out of the midget bitch who wakes me up, opens her dirty whore mouth, and directs noise at me.

I hate Christians.

No. I hate Americans.

Especially those who live in these parts. Then too you cant call these people American or Christian. You can only call them subhuman liabilities.

I would rather they be killed. I would rather commit suicide than live in the same state as a single one of their kind.

They smoke too much dope. Theyre complete fucktards who seem to be fallowing a socialist anti-human agenda. They need to be locked up. They need to be smacked with a leather slapper across the face and told to fuck off, eat shit, and speak French.

This is America bitch, we ain't not no England nor Angleterre.

Je n'ai pas d'assistantes sociales. J'ai des proxénètes.

Ils semblent commettre délibérément des erreurs : par exemple en foutant en l'air et en se branlant au travail d'une manière qui suggère qu'ils veulent que je reste et que je fasse l'amour avec tous ces policiers pervers pervers que j'ai courtisés en ligne. Rappelez-vous, c'est quand et où je suis un criminel terroriste, tout comme la police et les travailleurs sociaux.

Je suis encore là. J'ai signalé l'endroit comme une cellule terroriste quand je suis arrivé ici. Des gens qui fument de la drogue, des chrétiens qui servent de la nourriture, des femmes avec des armes à feu, des femmes avec une opinion, tout cela équivaut au terrorisme. Le Pakistan a été bombardé pour la même raison : les femmes ont eu la possibilité de s'exprimer.

Les personnes qui se font passer pour mes assistantes sociales sont toutes des putains sodomies qui ont décidé d'exercer leur autorité sur ma personne et mon cas. Puis-je les poursuivre pour dommages sociaux, traumatisme psychologique, stress excessif et perte de salaire? Ils ont maintenant perdu 2 ans de plus de ma vie. Ceci, après que les gens qui m'ont kidnappé m'ont fait perdre 10 ans de mon temps. Je suis censé être réhabilité. Comment se fait-il que j'ai une liaison avec le chef de cabinet ? J'ai l'impression d'avoir un autre général de l'armée de l'air que celui qui m'a embauché pour l'aider à quitter sa maison de Chicago. Oh, ça doit être que j'ai une assistante sociale qui décide de me faire utiliser ces préservatifs qu'ils distribuent comme des bonbons à la réception.

Tuez ces gens. Ce sont du trafic sexuel. Ils ont dit à Sean que sa mère, sa sœur et sa grand-mère étaient décédées. Il n'avait pas de sœur et sa grand-mère est décédée il y a 15 ans. J'espère qu'ils n'étaient pas censés m'en informer. Ils l'ont fait asseoir et lui ont dit respectueusement que des gens qui n'existaient pas étaient tués. Puis ils l'ont expulsé, se sentant menacé parce qu'il était lié à un général militaire. Je suis encore là. J'étais censé être au Kansas il y a deux ans. Cependant, le billet acheté n'a pas pu être imprimé en raison d'émeutes et de protestations auxquelles notre personnel a participé lui-même.

Les touchers d'enfants tueurs en série sont toujours en ligne.

Les touchers d'enfants tueurs en série fabriquent toujours de la palipéridone.

J'aimerais qu'ils s'en sortent de la garce naine qui me réveille, ouvre sa sale bouche de pute et me fait du bruit.

Je déteste les chrétiens.

Non. Je déteste les Américains.

Surtout ceux qui vivent dans ces régions. De plus, vous ne pouvez pas appeler ces personnes américaines ou chrétiennes. Vous ne pouvez les appeler passifs sous-humains. Je préférerais qu'ils soient tués. Je préfère me suicider que de vivre dans le même état qu'un seul de leur espèce. Ils fument trop de drogue. Ce sont des connards complets qui semblent suivre un programme anti-humain socialiste. Ils doivent être enfermés. Ils ont besoin d'être frappés avec un gifle en cuir sur le visage et de se faire foutre, de manger de la merde et de parler français.

C'est l'Amérique salope, nous ne sommes ni l'Angleterre.

[violenceinintersectionality]

Throughout this semester, a topic that stood out to me was intersectionality. This especially caught my attention when we read Chinelo Okparanta’s novel, “Under the Udala trees”. With this in mind, I will be discussing violence in intersectionality, discrimination, and my personal experience with witnessing violence in intersectionality.

Intersectionality is defined by Merriam-Webster as, “The complex, cumulative way in which the effects of multiple forms of discrimination (such as racism, sexism, and classism) combine, overlap, or intersect especially in the experiences of marginalized individuals or groups”. In other words, the effect that discrimination has on certain groups that are especially discriminated against. As a white female, I find myself being discriminated against often. Whether it be because of my looks, age, race, and even financial status. As women, I feel that this is something we all have to deal with at least once in our life. What frustrates me, personally, is that in my opinion, sex and race are two of the most prominent factors in intersectionality and I believe that women of color are the most affected by violence in intersectionality. I read an article during this class that explained how race is a social construct. Reading this article really made me wonder why women of color are treated so differently, especially when I was reading these wonderful works that the women had written. The author of the article, Angela Onwuachi-Willig wrote, “Race is not biological. It is a social construct. There is no gene or cluster of genes common to all blacks or all whites. Were race “real” in the genetic sense, racial classifications for individuals would remain constant across boundaries. Yet, a person who could be categorized as black in the United States might be considered white in Brazil or colored in South Africa”. Therefore, in my eyes I see a world that has created a prejudice to certain people because it’s just what they felt they had to do. On top of that, women are also seen as a minority to some. In the Neolithic era, all women were caretakers of the children who also farmed and protected their home while their husbands were out hunting. Women are the reason that we’re all prospering and obviously alive. So I cant help but wonder when this idea that they are somehow less of a person than men came about. Between the idea that women of color are somehow different in their humanity and that women are less important than man, it’s easy to see how ignorant people can be so careless when it comes to equality.

When I wrote my paper analyzing “Under the Udala Trees” I found myself unable to stop my brain from getting my hands to stop typing. The story truly spoke to me in a way that lifted me up but also broke my heart. In the story, the main character must deal with homophobia, religious differences, domestic abuse, and more. This class has truly opened my eyes when I thought they were already open, learning stories about these strong, amazing women who have been to hell and back make’s issues in today’s society all more real. Specifically, the main character, Ijeoma, was forced to suppress her sexuality and when it was discovered that she was in love with a member of the same sex, religion was forced upon her, her friends were killed, and the man who became her husband inflicted physical, mental, and emotional violence in her. While this story may be some words in a book to some people, things like this are happening in real life every day. If I could convince every human on the planet to at least take this class and educate themselves on what women who have dealt with these things in history have been through, I would and there is no doubt in my mind that it would make a huge change in this world. This is where violence in intersectionality comes in. If you take these ideas about women of color being unequal and factor in people who feel they are better than these women, you get the notion that those people feel they can push the women around. When Ijeoma’s husband threatened her with violence, he must have truly thought in that moment that he was so much better than her because of his “status” as a human. When people with violent tendencies get into this mindset, there is absolutely no limit to what they can do. The Institute For Women’s Policy Research stated, “More than four in ten Black women experience physical violence from an intimate partner during their lifetimes. White women, Latinas, and Asian/Pacific Islander women report lower rates. Black women also experience significantly higher rates of psychological abuse—including humiliation, insults, name-calling, and coercive control—than do women overall. Sexual violence affects Black women at high rates. More than 20 percent of Black women are raped during their lifetimes—a higher share than among women overall. Black women face a particularly high risk of being killed at the hands of a man. A 2015 Violence Policy Center study finds that Black women were two and a half times more likely to be murdered by men than their White counterparts. More than nine in ten Black female victims knew their killers”. I made sure to include all of these statistics in length because they need to be acknowledged. Almost everything we’ve read from female authors this semester includes a portion where they mentioned the trials and tribulations they went through to get to the place where they are, regardless of race but still so unbelievably appalling. I can only pray that these statistics are better recognized and improved.

I live in a rural, conservative, small town area filled with closed minded people. I often take a lot of heat for attending High Point, with people calling it a “rich kid liberal school” among other things. However, I couldn’t be happier to announce that I go to High Point because I have the ability to learn from and among some of the most welcoming people I’ve ever met. It’s a different story where I live though. Racism is so prominent and absolutely horrifying. A few years ago, I was dating a guy who most would consider “redneck”. On top of that, I was also in his friend group. We would go for bonfires, mudding, truck shows, the classic country boy stuff. During all of this however, any time we would pass a person of color, the men in that group would quietly refer to them with a derogatory, horrifying name that shocked me every time. At first, I kept quiet and didn’t say anything, which was obviously the wrong thing to do and a big factor in this societal issue. After some time though, I began to speak up and explain why those words were wrong and hurtful, to which they often responded with “When did you become a snowflake libtard?” I hear this question in my head on a daily basis. The group refused to acknowledge people of color and eventually I became aware of an incident where a few boys were cut off by a black woman on the road and followed her home, waited until she was inside, and smashed the woman’s car windows, doors, and ripped up the seats. The boys were laughing when they told me this story and that instance changed my life forever. I broke up with my boyfriend, left the friend group, and called the police immediately and two of the men in that incident served 6 months in jail which personally I think is not enough. To this day I still receive hate messages about it, and I can’t imagine it’s helped their moral values at all. I tell this story because it’s one instance that I’ve witnessed as a white woman, someone who doesn’t experience severe discrimination everyday in much worse ways and it still changed my life. When listening to Chimamanda Ngozi Ndichi’s Ted Talk, she mentioned that many of her peers were shocked by her experiences. They had formulated these ideas in their heads about what her home, Nigeria, was actually like based on things they had seen through the media. The boys I dealt with all those years ago would have looked at her the exact same and most likely in a more negative manner. What she dealt with was an instance of intersectionality being played out and hopefully her peers were able to learn from her as a human not to expect less of someone because of where they come from.

In conclusion, this class has truly opened my eyes to so many issues present in our world. I fully believe that along with me, many others who have taken this class have an entirely different view on women of all genders, races, shapes and sizes. The author’s we’ve learned from this semester have definitely had people question, if not change their actions after hearing their stories, inspiring all of us to make this world a better place.