#cw child murder

[hussyknee]

Rundown of the current protests, rioting and state crackdown that have erupted in France over the police murder of a 17 year old brown boy.

I've seen way too many Europeans on here insisting ACAB is just a USAmerican thing. It's really important y'all know that it isn't. Cops as an institution is fundamentally fascist, and in the Global North, white supremacist.

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Rest in power baby boy.

*Correction: Nahel wasn't Black, but Maghrebi (of North African descent). Apologies for the mistake.

[transrevolutions]

if your "military operation" results in civilian deaths over three times the number of "militants" killed, including children, your military is a fucking immoral failure. no wonder the palestinians aren't "peacefully protesting". you're fucking slaughtering their kids.

[spooky-donut-ghost-house]

Campfire tales and urban legends of The Mojave:

I like to imagine that there's some campfire tales and urban legends spread throughout The Mojave told by scavengers, prospectors, traders, mercenaries and NCR recruits to pass the time. Some of these you may have already heard like The Legend of The Sierra Madre Casino or The Horrors of The Divide or whispers about The Burned Man, but you haven't heard of these.

Some of these are based on old urban legends that were passed around on game forums back in the day, others are based on dialogue and some are based on old. creepypastas.

So let's see what campfire tales and urban legends are told in The Mojave hm?

Lone Wolf Radio: Many scavengers and prospectors have discovered the eerie sight of Lone Wolf Radio an abandoned trailer on a hill not too far from Goodsprings Source with various tin cans, electronics, radio devices and various junk spread around the trailer whoever lived in this trailer is long gone and only the graffiti left by them remains: "Everyone is gone, I am all alone, let it all end." Not many scavengers and prospectors go to Lone Wolf Radio anymore due to the urban legend told about it. The urban legend goes that in the late hours of the morning a radio signal will be found called "Lone Wolf Radio", the DJ of this odd radio station is a man who simply calls himself "The Lone Wolf" who will go on incoherent ramblings until 3 in the morning when he will bring a child on air and say "Everyone is gone, I am all alone, let it all end." before killing the child on air and then the signal will be lost. There is no evidence of this "Lone Wolf" person existing nor is their the remains of any dead children around the abandoned radio station nor has there been any "Lone Wolf Radio" station ever been found but nonetheless nobody really goes to The Lone Wolf Radio site ever since this urban legend popped up.

Old Lady Gibson: Now, you might be wondering "What's so scary about Old Lady Gibson? She's just a little old lady who lives in a scrap yard with her dogs." Well, the story goes some drunken NCR recruits stumbled upon the old shack not too far from the scrap yard and encountered a disturbing sight, a skeleton laying on a bloody mattress and a bloody machete stabbed into the nearby wall with a disembodied finger held into the wall by the machete. Now, it's not actually said who the blood, the finger or the skeleton belongs to but the story changes from person to person. Some say that the blood, finger and skeleton belongs to the husband of Old Lady Gibson who she murdered and hid his body in the shack. Another idea is that the blood, finger and skeleton belongs to Old Lady Gibson and the one who lives in the scrap yard isn't the real Old Lady Gibson who murdered the real Old Lady Gibson and assumed her identity. It makes sense why Elijah took temporary refuge in the shack due to the urban legend surrounding the shack and Old Lady Gibson herself.

The City Under The Mojave: Another story that's spread about is that there is an ancient alien city beneath The Mojave Wasteland, some say that the city belonged to a cult who worshipped Ug-Qualtoth, others believe it's an ancient alien city, some say it's both. Nobody has actually found this ancient city but most stories of the legend say that the entrance to the city is somewhere in the north by Horowitz Farmstead due to some scavengers and prospectors claiming to see an alien shuttle overlooking the nearby cliffs and three green humanoid creatures skulking about below, in search of something.

Area 51: This one has some merit unlike the other three urban legends, Area 51 is a pre-war government facility in Nevada which everyone knows about, the problem is, nobody seems to be able to find Area 51 which is why most wastelanders believe it to be an urban legend. Some believe that Area 51 is the real entrance to the ancient city under The Mojave and could possibly be near Horowitz Farmstead but again, nobody has actually been able to find the facility.

The Lake Mead Monster: Now, you may believe that The Lake Mead Monster is simply just the plane that was at the bottom of the lake but the legend of The Lake Mead Monster existed long before the plane even surfaced. Some believe that The Lake Mead Monster is some type of mutated aquatic life similarly to the lakelurks but nobody has actually seen any proof or evidence of this supposed Lake Mead Monster.

The Numbers Station: One of the more older urban legends of The Mojave. The story goes that an odd broadcast had been found some time before The Battle of Hoover Dam. The DJ is a depressed, monotoned voiced man who reads out some numbers before the rest of the broadcast is a series of beeps which have been decoded to be morse code. It's said in the urban legend that the first set of numbers and beeps predicted the return of Mr. House, another set of numbers and beeps predicted The NCR succeeding in holding The Hoover Dam and another predicted the events of Bitter Springs and eeriely enough, all three of these predictions have happened. The story varies here stating that other predictions would be the destruction of The Mojave Chapter of The Brotherhood, the destruction of Searchlight, the massive jailbreak of The NCRFC, the death of Chief Hanlon, the death of Caesar, the death of President Kimball, the death of Mr. House, The NCR continuing to hold The Dam, The Legion taking The Dam, Mr. House taking The Dam, a mysterious force over securitrons and various other unseen before technologies led by one singular person taking The Dam, a strange serious of bizarre scientific happenings destroying The Mojave, ghosts immune to gunfire and a blood red mist enveloping The Mojave and the mysterious nuking of The Long 15 and the Legion settlement of Dry Wells, unlike the first three predictions however, none of these have happened yet.

[sluggybasson107]

Image Description: A digital drawing of Lopmon's dark evolution in bad lighting. They stare directly in the camera with a ripped up green jacket and dead hand sticking out of their mouth. Blood stains their fur and horn at the top of its head. Their mouth is slightly open with their dead stare expression. The background is black. End Image Description.]

Day 6 of @surviveweek: Loss

[rwac96]

DB: R&R - History of Ranch, Part 3 by IsabellaFaleno

(source: deviantART)

[starmeadowsystem]

Joy

CWs: Transphobia, child murder

[controversial-blorbo-bracket]

Controversial Character Tournament Round 1: Isabella from The Promised Neverland

[koolkat9]

My sibling is researching about changlings and something about putting changlings in ovens keeps coming up and now I'm wondering. Do you think little Arthur was shoved into an oven once because they thought he was a changling 🤔

[poptartregreteva3]

"You should've went to class..." Meet Mr Sharpie!

Info below this row (Btw red is IC sharpie, purple is OOC poptartregreteva)

Name: Mr. Sharpie Height: 6ft (6'0) Occupation: School's Administrator About: Whenever there is a Hall Sweep (twice a week, no electricity), he comes out of his office to seek for any students trying to skip class. Hall sweeps only happen twice a week. You'll know when he is coming/nearby if the area you stand at starts to vibrate from below, and he'd pass by with a trail of a black smoke cloud. The reason of the black mist is to not let the students who are inside the classrooms see what is going on in the halls through the class windows. Once the bad students are caught, he uses his machete-shaped arm to take them out (kill them). After the student is attacked (killed), he eats them, leaving no pieces (limbs) behind. After his job is done, he'll return to announce that the Hall Sweep is over, the electricity will turn back on and the black mist cloud will disappear. (TW/CW: disturbing):

[twig-gy]

being a vocaloid fan is like oh my favorite song is made by and my favorite producer is the one that talks about child murder - oh right that doesn't narrow it down, the one who has really unique instrumentals

[serenefig]

So you know that prompt from @dire-kumori (https://www.tumblr.com/dire-kumori/716392823136616448/time-travel-au-where-michael-goes-back-in-time) i shared a wip Wednesday of a while back? Unfortunately I'm not certain I'll ever finish it due to interests changing (curse you ADHD hyperfixations). So! Instead I'll post what I have for the writing as well as my plot notes in a reblog.

Fair warning this was not going to have a happy ending for anyone. I planned to have this set up as a stable time loop.

Content Warnings for: child death, child murder, body horror

If I'm missing some warnings let me know and I'll add them here and the tags.

~*~

Michael was so very very tired. It was nearing the end of his shift and he could not wait for this nightmare to end. Here he was stuck doing actual work for a pretend Fazbear Pizzeria that wouldn’t even last the day. It was Saturday; almost time for the “Big Party”. He knew Henry had some form of plan to end it all, but what it was he didn’t know. And if he were honest with himself, Michael didn’t care to know. It was easier that way. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have contingency plans.

He wasn’t certain if Henry knew who he was. The “interview” was a farce at best, and clearly negligent. If it weren’t for the murderous animatronics, Michael might have even let himself enjoy being a manager. There was something freeing in running a half-decent Freddy’s. But no, he was here for more reason 

His alarm went off, signaling the end of the day. The tension drained from his body, barely listening to Elizabeth. Soon, he thought. He was ready for this “big party”.

[LINE BREAK]

Was this heaven? A dream? Another step in his long line of failures? Michael expected to be fully dead. He expected to be rotting in whatever hell his father ended in, suffering side-by-side for all eternity. And yet, here he was. Here Michael lay, in a wooded area devoid of buildings, and a familiarity in his soul.

He wondered how he ended up here. Where his skin once melted onto burning metal, now soft grass tickled what little sensation he had left. It was a habit now, taking stock of his body and decay. How much of him was still left, and how much he would need to replace.

Wriggle the toes and the fingers, twist the joints, flex the small amount of muscle left, feeling the scrapped together endoskeleton push and pull against his body.

Some of the tension left Michael. It seemed there was no loss of movement. He slowly sat up, wincing at the crackling of his burnt and rotten skin. There would be little he could do to patch his skin now, he had to be careful. He had to stay human enough.

He wandered, albeit slowly, out of the wooded area. It was difficult, remembering how to walk. 

[LINE BREAK]

It shocked him to see a younger version of himself, even more so see him laughing and genuinely at that! He watched his  (ex-)friends wave goodbye, leaving the younger Michael by himself. He remembered this day. It was one of the last times his friends were actual friends. Back before his friends used him for Fredbear Diner freebies, before his siblings’ deaths. Back when his life was simple and the worst thing he knew was the occasional swat on the back.

The elder Michael felt fury in his bones, and the urge to rip it all away. This must certainly be hell, as his 13-year-old self had no right to laugh, to not know fear, to genuinely enjoy his time outside of the house instead of using it for an escape.

There stood the boy who let so-called friends dictate his newly teenaged life.

Step

There stood the boy who took his anger and fear out on his kid brother.

Step

There stood the boy who, instead of protecting his family, let his sister die and directly caused his brother’s death.

Step

Soon he was behind his younger self. How the young Michael didn’t hear his older self shamble behind him, the elder didn’t know, but clearly his stench was enough to draw attention as his younger self turned around.

All the self-loathing and disgust that he felt every time he looked into a mirror surged to the surface. How dare he be unblemished. How dare this child live for all the horror that he would come to cause. If it were not for Michael, Elizabeth would not have been snapped up by Circus Baby. If not for Michael, Evan’s head would have never been crushed between Fredbear's jaws. If not for Michael, perhaps his father would never have found Remnant. (But that was a lie, and he knew it. William had created the Funtimes to kill long before Elizabeth stepped in front of Baby).

Michael shoved his younger self to the ground and straddled him. He watched his own hands wrap around this young Michael's throat, feeling as if they had moved of their own accord (how long has it been since Ennard piloted his body, since they left bits and pieces of endoskeleton inside him), and squeezed. Time stood still.

He felt disconnected from the scene before him, and yet he reveled in the sounds his younger self made. In the feel of his remaining skin being torn as the younger Michael clawed at them in an attempt to gain air. God, he really was his father’s son, wasn’t he?

It disgusted Michael how, in this exact moment, it was the most alive he had felt since his brother’s death all those years ago. The haze of his depression had turned sharp, and for the first time in a very long time, he was acutely aware of his actions. Michael found it difficult to let go. To let this young child go where he would be a catalyst for all that went wrong in the family. There was no blood staining the boy's hands yet, but there would be. So he kept squeezing, putting all his weight both rotted and left behind animatronic into killing. And for the first time Michael was glad that his tear ducts had rotted away. 

Soon, too soon, the younger Michael’s struggling got less and less, until eventually he stopped moving altogether. It wasn’t enough for the elder. He was still so angry at himself, and at the world. Michael kept squeezing and squeezing until—

CRACK

It all went dark.

[LINE BREAK]

Bad End (true): There comes a time when a person must admit defeat. Michael had been in this loop for what felt like eternity. He had no idea how long it had been since the fire. And if he were honest with himself, time itself held no meaning to him anymore. He had tried so very hard to change his history— their future. Yet it seemed it was all for naught. Elizabeth was still taken by Circus Baby. Evan was still bitten by Fredbear. Mike was still scooped.

There was a brief period of time where he had set fire to each establishment as they popped up, but each resulted in another loop. Always starting in that clearing, always watching his younger self. And Michael, well, he never knew when to give up as a child. That had not changed. So he watched, and he waited.

Finally, after a long and isolating 100-some odd years, Michael watched as the labyrinthian location went up in flames. He slowly joined the others in the inferno, hoping, praying that he could finally rest. Knowing that the other Michael would likely start his own time journey soon. Perhaps he would break the vicious cycle of death and misery that followed the Aftons.

It was not for him to know, and he was okay with that.

And at long last, Michael Afton was finally reduced to ashes.

[LINE BREAK]

Alt End (good end???): Killing William actually work and the family is safe and no else dies the end

[rotteneldritchhorror]

Fuck the account that genuinely reblogged a video showing a BEHEADED CHILD?????

I get it, forcing someone to confront the reality of a genocide is gonna be uncomfortable, BUT YOU DONT NEED TO SHOW A BEHEADED CHILD TO GET THAT ACROSS.

[faust-the-enjoyer]

They held up their headless child. Headless. Child. I don't know what to say. There are no words left for me to say.

Free Palestine. Death to America and the Zionist entity.

[haphazardlyannotated]

Has this been done yet?

[shimbongulus]

How do you forgive the unforgiveable? Perhaps you don’t. Perhaps you simply understand it.

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[starmeadowsystem]

There was once a time where you saw me and my eyes were filled with joy and wonder

And then you call me pathetic

And then you beat me up

And then you murder my children

And then you have the audacity to wonder

Where did my little boy's happiness go?

And your daughter understands now. Your daughter understands she can never be happy because of you.