#nai's works

[nappingnai]

megumi bf texts!

notes; first smau kinda scared fr.. i feel like sometimes he'd try and match your humour to fuck with u. if u think its ooc/dont like it, scroll!!!! :3 also i forgot to change the time, dont mind it plsss

[feniverse-unfiltered]

[flufflecat]

[st4rfckerz]

give into us | gf!sam monroe x reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, dubcon, praise, mild knife play, pet names (nothing crazy), dry humping, choking, loss of virginity, breeding kink

summary: you're home alone and you receive a call from an anonymous caller.

it was a brisk october night. the kind where you curl up with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn and a scary movie. so that's exactly what you do. you choose to binge a few of your favorite horror movies because you have the whole night to yourself.

you put the old vhs tape into the vcr and start the movie. as the movie began to play, the phone unexpectedly started to ring. the shrill ringing of the old landline phone broke the peaceful mood set by the flickering old tv.

"who could that even be?" you think to yourself before heading to the kitchen to pick up the phone.

“hello?” you answered the phone apprehensively. there's a lengthy pause before an unsettling, breathless voice answers back.

"who is this?" the voice questions. you raise your eyebrows in confusion.

"who are you trying to reach?" you ask, a little perplexed that the person who called you was inquiring who he called.

a slight chuckle was heard on the other end. the caller was so excited to talk with you.

"do you really have to guess who I'm trying to reach?" his tone became very charming. this was the kind of voice that could woo people into trusting him "i've been trying to reach you all night." you hear a hint of desperation.

"ok, come on, who is this?" you ask sternly. you look at your surroundings, not seeing anyone around.

“who i am isn't important, sweetheart.  what you need is a little companionship - i can help with that.” he paused for a moment, the silence stretching between the both of you.

"you just gotta want me.” your body froze at the sound of his words, like though a switch had been flipped, in a way that you were unable to articulate.

"you're crazy." you scoff. you hang up the phone and return to your movie.

"freak." you mutter to yourself.

after a few moments, the phone rings again.

“you keep calling me crazy yet, you’re the one that’s talking to the voice on the other end of this phone.” you could hear the snicker in his voice.

"and you're the one that won't leave me alone." you snap.

"how can i leave you alone when you're wearing those adorable little shorts?" 

you pause for a second and gaze down at your baby pink shorts. whoever this was has been clearly watching you. in a fit of panic, you rush to the kitchen counter and grab a knife.

“your little knife isn't gonna save you doll, might want to think of something a little better,” he taunted, a dark chuckle following soon after. the sound made your skin crawl and you held the phone tightly, fighting the urge to hang up.

"why don't you just show yourself huh? don't be a coward." you can feel yourself getting more scared and nervous.

“show myself?” his voice shifted, any sign of cockiness gone and replaced with a cold, calculating tone. “you keep asking questions like that and you’ll soon find out just how brave i really am.” 

you hang up the phone once more and start dialing 911. the lights suddenly go out. you take a breath to settle your nerves, but the moment you do, a hand is placed around your mouth. your chest is securely wrapped by powerful hands, but you immediately wriggle free and proceed to flee through the back door.

running seems to clear the fog around your brain, the adrenaline coursing through your body helping you overcome the shock of what just happened. you hear footsteps running after you, gaining on you - getting closer and closer with each passing second.

your body slams into the concrete, your head slamming against the hard surface. as stars form and dance at the edge of your vision, you can faintly see a dark figure looming over you.

the mysterious figure holds you down on the ground, but you manage to escape. soon after, you sprint up to your room, lock the door, and hide inside your closet. he slowly began following you, his pace was casual but his movements were calculated and precise. you were his to play with now.

you hear the running footsteps come to a stop right outside your bedroom door. you hold your breath as you hear the handle of your bedroom door rattle and move, someone trying to open it. you stay completely still you can hear footsteps pacing outside your door - whoever this was, is standing out there waiting for you.

after a brief pause, the door to your bedroom crashes open, and the shadowy, cloaked figure slowly makes its way into your room before stopping in front of the closet door.

you keep your hand pressed to your mouth, the silence and stillness in the room giving you goosebumps. you hold your breath as tight as you can, your eyes locked on the closet door.

suddenly the closet door flies open.

"boo."

the masked man pulls you forward and holds you tightly against his body. his chest was flushed against your back. your muffled screams are covered by a big gloved hand. you struggle to fight back, but your hands are flying everywhere, hitting everything all at once. you become even more panicked when you catch the glint of a knife out of the corner of your eye.

“shhh i only want to talk. can we at least speak without you screaming?" his voice was low and husky now, but calm. too calm. it was unsettling.

while his hand is still covering your mouth, you regain your composure as you feel the knife lightly graze your throat.

"good girl," his voice a low purr against your skin.

the glove-clad hand gently pulls away from your mouth and clamps around your throat.

the combination of the cold knife against your skin, hand squeezing your throat, and the adrenaline surge brought on by your fear sent a strange wave of pleasure down to your core, causing you to subconsciously clench your thighs.

"we can either have a civil conversation or things can go a completely different direction, it's your choice." you can feel the knife dragging gently as it moves from your neck to the valley of your breasts. as he's drinking in your presence, he notices your thighs tightly pressed together.

"does this excite you pretty girl?" the knife moves further down your body and slips under your underwear. you shudder slightly at the sensation of the cold blade pressing against your warm cunt. you were fighting it, you were going against your own desire to feel something for him, but he knew. he could sense it.

"fuck you." you say through gritted teeth.

you received no more than a slight head tilt from the masked assailant before being thrown onto your bed and pinned down, completely unable to move. your vision returns in a haze, and as you gain your bearings once more, your eyes lock onto the face of your aggressor. his hand is still wrapped tightly around your neck, but you do manage to move your free hand to remove his mask.

the person you thought would never hurt you appears in your vision as your closest friend.

"sam?" your eyes well up in tears. you couldn't believe this.

"no, no, no, no." you sob. it was impossible to accept what was happening. you would never think he would do something so insane after everything you and sam went through.

“why’d you have to go making things so difficult?” he asks, his voice dropping from the menacing tone he was using to the casual, friendly tone he often spoke in.

"you know i just wanted us to be together.”

"sam you're being crazy right now, ok? now please let me go-" you plead.

"just listen to me!" sam yells, shaking you harshly. your lips quickly clamp shut as you look up at him in absolute horror.

“i-i feel like you’re fighting something inside. you’re scared but underneath that fear, you’re feeling something. can't you feel it?" sam's eyes were wild and blown wide. the only thing you could make sense of amid all the craziness that raced through your head was that he wanted you.

how were you so blind? how could you miss it all these years of knowing him? you were utterly unaware of how he treated you, how he looked at you as though you were the only person on the planet.

"i'm so sorry sam...i just didn't know." tears begin spilling out your eyes. his face softens, his grip loosening around your neck. he touches the tears on your face, wiping them away with his thumb.

“it’s ok, it’s just us now," the intensity in his eyes was almost other worldly. his stare seemed to pull her in like a magnet. "i just didn't want you to have to see me like this, but i need you to understand how much we need each other." sam spoke to you in a sugary tone that made the hairs on your arms stand up.

"i understand but..." you trail off. "this isn't right."

“yes, it is. don’t you feel how right it is? don’t fight this, it’s always been meant to be.” he moves his face close to yours, his free hand lightly brushing your cheek. "i'd do anything for you, i'd kill for you." his vacant stare almost gave you the impression that it had already been executed.

you lock your gaze on his, your eyes pleading.

for a moment, something about his face softens, a sadness passing through his features. then he leans forward, his lips pressing against yours.

it’s the most gentle kiss you’ve ever known, making your body melt against him as if he weren't just chasing you through your house in a mask with a knife.

"sam, i can't..." you speak against his lips. he pulls back from the kiss, his fingers still brushing against your face.

“don’t make this harder than it has to be. give into us. just be mine, you and me together. please.” his smile falls, and he frowns as he watches your expression.

you stare up at him and think for a while.

you'd be lying to yourself if you said you never had feelings for sam. despite the fact that you fantasized about being together and even about him taking your virginity, you never imagined it would get this serious.

this time, when his lips find yours, it isn’t gentle and tender. he devours you in a kiss that says ‘we are one’, his lips moving feverishly against yours as he pulls you against him, making you moan into the kiss.

“there you go.” he murmurs, his voice breathy with desire. heat spreads through your body as you press closer to him, his arms wrapping around your body and pulling you close. his hands find their way to your hair, pulling your head closer to his as he bites your lower lip and sucks it into his mouth.

your hips buck up to meet his, the newfound friction spreading a heat across your body. his mouth pulls away from yours as he lets out a deep groan, his eyes filled with desire.

his breath comes in panting heaves, his eyes moving down your body.

"you don't know what you do to me." his hand move over your body, caressing every inch of you with love and desire.

his fingers find their way underneath your shirt, making you press closer to him for even more friction.

your eyes squeeze shut, enjoying the feeling of sam's prominent bulge rocking against your aching core.

sam's eyes are full of hunger and desire, his breathing coming in shorter and shorter gasps as he locks his gaze with yours.

a moment passes between you and then his lips find yours once more, devouring your flesh as his tongue slips past your lips and into your mouth. you let out a loud moan, gripping his body tight as he continues to kiss you passionately.

sam pulls away again, his eyes searching yours before he speaks, "i need you." his voice a raspy whisper as his eyes drink in the sight of your body.

his mouth finds yours once more, his hands moving to your shorts, roughly yanking them off along with your underwear. his hands grip you on either side of your waist, the heat in his grip only intensifying as you feel him lean forwards, pulling you closer into his body.

you hear sam fumble with his pants before you feel his tip graze against your slick folds before sliding in.

"sam...it hurts," you whine, feeling a sharp sting as he thrusted into your cunt. sam was so big that you didn't even need to see his cock to figure out how big he was. you could just feel it.

"just take it baby, you'll be ok." he says breathlessly. with each stroke, sam becomes more attuned to your body's responses, adjusting his movements to bring you pleasure while respecting your boundaries. the pain begins to fade, replaced by a growing warmth and an intoxicating mix of pleasure and vulnerability. your whimpers of discomfort are slowly replaced by moans of pleasure, surrendering yourself to the desires you never thought you would explore.

"so perfect," his voice is hushed as he continues to whisper into your ear, his lips close to your neck.

"n-need more..." you mewl. the feeling in your body is completely new. given the fact that you had touched yourself countless times before, this sensation was you ever experienced. you can just feel how much he loves and adores you - it almost seems as if you two were made for each other.

"i know you do sweet girl," he whispers, his tongue finding the space between your neck and your ear, licking and sucking the skin with passion. "and i'll give it to you, all of it. you're mine and only mine." you want this, you yearn for more of his touch, and he wants to give it to you.

you begin bucking your hips up to meet his harsh thrusts. sam revels in your reactions, his own sadistic pleasure fueling the intensity of the encounter.

“that’s it, baby, you're doing so good.” he runs a hand along your back, the skin under your shirt growing warm and tingly.

sam's touch intensifies, his thumb pressing firmly against your sensitive clit with an almost aggressive force. the friction between his thumb and your throbbing bundle of nerves sends waves of both pain and pleasure coursing through your body. you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to that elusive climax. every sensation seems to be intensified, amplified by the dark aura that surrounds you.

"sam- m'gonna cum..." you whimper. your fingers grasp the hairs at the nape of his neck, earning a low groan from him.

"come on baby, cum on my cock...make it yours." his breathing was shallow, and his speech was harsh. he places his head on your shoulder. his whimpers and moans grew stronger, indicating that his orgasm was also nearing.

and then, it happens. a surge of pleasure floods your senses, radiating from your core and rippling through your entire being. the world fades away as you succumb to the overwhelming intensity of your orgasm, your cries of delight mingling with the echoes of the room.

sam's movements becoming slow as a low, guttural groan escapes his lips. you feel his thrust become weaker, the fervent grip on your skin tightening for a brief moment. the sound of his release echoes through the room, his cum spills inside you, warmth combining with the heat of your own desires. a primal satisfaction overtakes him, leaving him momentarily spent.

as the ripples of pleasure subside, you find yourself breathless, spent, and oddly satisfied. sam collapses on top of you, fatigue weighing heavily upon him, and he lays his head upon your chest. you can feel his warm breath against your skin, hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own.

the lines that once divided you into predator and prey are now blurred, and you start to see him as more than just a threatening presence, a constant reminder of the thrilling taboo that has bound you both together.

[cha3blu]

knives and his angelic beauty!!!!!!,!;&:&372&$;

[cynnkk]

I've reread zagan's h scene and he would make the perfect service top.

he listened to everything the MC said and diligently did everything they asked for

also he was more enthusiastic than aggressive and the guy could go on for DAYS

mind you his kink is kinesophilia he gets off of EXERCISING and WORKING OUT. his scene literally ends with 'it was a good workout" this man could put you out of commission fairly quickly 🤔

bro.

he could (respectfully) fold you like an origami and make all of your dreams come true

[erwinsvow]

https://www.tumblr.com/erwinsvow/747331375109177344/if-i-was-shy-reader-i-would-be-so-jealous-even-if

thank you cause i wouldn’t be able to handle that😰

ok maybe just a tiny little drabble... the link above

like any other girl in the world, you were more than a little concerned that one of rafe's best friends was a girl. not just any girl, pretty girl, who was nothing but friendly to you, who could outdrink any of the boys and made everyone laugh. 

you were getting better about being insecure now that rafe was your boyfriend. he knew how to snap you out of it, and he was getting really good at understanding your cues—the sad expression in your eyes when you tried to convince you were fine, your polite smile when you didn't know how to tell him no, or that you just wanted to go home and be alone with him.

but as good as he was with you, you couldn't get over his relationship with his best friend. it sucked. she was nothing but nice, with a boyfriend of her own now but you still lingered over the very idea of some of the things kelce and topper had let slip to you through the past few months.

the fact that her and rafe used to sleep in his bed together, used to go out on the druthers alone, or even just the fact that he used to pick her up in the same truck he picked you up in. it all made your head spin, made you sad. and you weren't good at making yourself feel better.

luckily for you, that was your boyfriend's hidden talent—fucking the overthinking, the overwhelmed nature out of you. rafe keeps your wrists in place with his hand, pressed tightly against your back. you're on your knees, back arched infront of him while he slammed into you over and over again.

there's only so much you can take, head dropping onto the pillow while rafe kept going. between your moans and the sound of his bed at tannyhill creaking and thudding against the wall, you can't hear much, but you make out a few sentences.

"stop-" thrust. "thinking-" thurst. "about it." thrust. "why don't you jus' turn that brain off and let daddy think for you, hm? don't need you worryin' bout anythin' other than cumming all over my dick. got it, kid?"

you don't respond, helplessly moaning against his pillows while he pounds your pussy. your arms are sore from being twisted like this and your brain isn't processing anything but how good rafe feels inside you.

"got it?" he asks, yanking you up by your wrists, pressing your back firmly against his chest. he grips your tits, stopping until he gets an answer.

"yes, yes, yes, whatever you say, rafe-"

"hah. got that right. now stop thinkin' and take it."

[kaptainandy]

"if herbert west is trans that means he named himself 'herbert.' who the fuck would name themselves herbert?" you fool. you buffoon. you absolute moron. do you really think the pretentious king of transmascs wouldn't choose a name in which the letters "hrt" appear in order? also what could possibly be more transmasc than having a name that is a perfect anagram of "hrt beer?"

[naycelium]

The Royal Scientist 🦎

[ohitslen]

Part 1 of this thing that doesn’t actually have a steady flow

But wouldn’t it be so funny that the guy you get along with just fine is the brother of the guy that you feel like wanting to shower after making eye contact? Because I think it is

Apologies for the weird colors I did my best with the lighting I have 🧎‍♀️

[andr0nap]

please please PLEASE tell us about your plane au, ive been SO curious about it 👀

theres like a lot and not that much going on in it, youd have to be specific bc i suck at giving general summaries of my aus

buuut the basic gist of it is that wolfwood finds a plane wreck on a scrapyard in nowhere, middle-of dating back to the space-faring age and decides to either try to fix it or sell the parts

over time he discovers that its not a normal jet and befriends the suspiciously human-sounding co-pilot ai thats been hellbent on gaslighting him into believing that hes a good person capable of kindness and deserving of love

somewhere down the line the peacemaker gets fixed enough to fly, crashes again and gets recovered by the bernardelli crew, the grand reveal happens and the ai turns out to be a plant guy that got fused into the engine and took over the whole thing, turning the plane into a biomechanical eldritch monstrosity

shenanigans ensue-

[nappingnai]

sweet disaster!

synopsis; you attempt to bake for your boyfriend, but it doesnt exactly go as planned..

notes - gn!reader x satoru gojo :) "hun" used as a pet name once. i am genuinely SO ANXIOUS to post this. if u like it pls reblog or comment or whatever.. if u dont like it just come to my house and shoot me tbh

you had always known your boyfriend liked sweet things. the first time you had met satoru, he was munching on some sort of candy. his friends, students, everyone knew. so.. you wanted to try and be a good partner; attempting to bake something for him.

lord now knows you're terrible at baking, and you won't try again.

because it's your fourth try at baking cookies for him, and so far you've failed by forgetting the flour, not placing them further away on the pan causing them to stick together, burning them- you've done everything you could to fuck up these cookies.

you could just watch a tutorial. easy enough, right? well you've watched the same video over and over again, having the urge to punch your phone at the random males voice instructing you for what feels like the tenth time. you could call megumi? he could help. maybe.

a click at the door makes you freeze at the garbage can, having just thrown out your fourth- fifth batch of cookies? you've lost count. you hurriedly shut the garbage, trying to clean up the kitchen and yourself the most you can in only a few seconds, which isn't a lot, but why not try?

satoru shuffles in, looking around a bit for you, hearing you moving around and clinking stuff in the kitchen. "..hun, what're you doing?" he asks, walking over to the kitchen and staring you down as you stand next to the garbage, a complete mess, probably. you haven't had time to look at yourself, just an assumption from the way he's staring down at you and obviously trying not to laugh.

"..nothing at all!" you say, looking over at your boyfriend with a bubbly smile on your face to attempt to distract him from whatever you just threw out, and the burning smell coursing around the house. "you sure?" he questions, tilting his head a bit to the side. you nod, looking into his eyes- well, blindfold- with that same smile on your face. satoru giggles a bit at you, walking over to you.

"two questions. one, why does it smell like a house fire in here? and two, why are you trying so desperately to hide the trash?" he asks, looking down at you. you look up at him. "tried to bake for you, obviously didn't go as planned," you sigh. "stupid dude who's tutorial i was watching didn't make any sense." satoru lets out a small laugh, smiling down at you with that cheeky grin of his.

"you don't gotta bake me anything, you're enough yourself. plus, i don't want you burning down the house.." he mumbles, making you softly punch his arm. "in all seriousness tho, you could've called megumi. he's a pretty good baker, somewhat good of a cook. if you wanna learn how to bake, give him a call."

you nod, still smiling up at him. he leans down and gives you a small peck on the lips, leaning back up to stare back down at you. "please don't try baking again without someone else. it smelled like there was a fire, i thought you burned the house down. smelled like it, at least." satoru says, still looking down at you. you pout up at him, flicking his forehead.

made by myguumi; please dont alter my work or try and post as your own. reblogs are appreciated, but claiming as your own is not.

@venzlenes

[borderlandsmostwanted]

I think the twins had the potential to be the best borderlands antagonists if they were handled properly. Like if gearbox pulled more from reality it could have been a really interesting concept about parasocial relationships, the dangers of blurring the lines between online and reality, and how idolization can turn someone into a faux god

[newttxt]

me bullying waif-like tristamp ww, vashwood post-canon family, and awkward uncle nai

[st4rfckerz]

this came to me in a dream last night and i'm literally frothing at the mouth.

MDNI 18+ (dubcon)

"what did you just say?" anakin asked, his voice low and menacing. he knows what you said, he just wanted to hear you say it again.

"i said you're fucking selfish." you sneer. anakin takes slow steps towards you until you're mere inches apart. his presence filled the small room, making it feel suffocatingly hot all of a sudden. you can smell his musky scent mixed with sweat and determination emanating from him as he loomed over you.

anakin's eyes sparkle with amusement as he watches you get all hot and bothered talking about how much you claim to hate him.

"is that really what you think?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. anakin looks at you, almost daring you to respond. when you say nothing he lets out a harsh breath and calmy removes his dark, heavy robe. “oh i see.” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “you wanna know what i think?"

before you could respond, anakin kicks out with his leg, sending you flying backwards onto the floor. you cry in pain as your head strikes the hard hardwood floor, landing on your back. stars danced wildly in front of your vision for a brief moment, and when they subsided, you find yourself pinned down by his weight.

"i think you're a whiny little prude, just dying to get fucked," he growled, his eyes burning with desire. "too good for some cock? is that what it is sweetheart?" anakin held you firmly, trapping both of your arms against your chest with one hand while his other hand stayed wrapped around your throat.

"get off me anakin or i swear-" you shriek as you squirm futilely underneath him. anakin's hand flies across your face and then squeezes your cheeks together.

"stop struggling you're not gonna get anywhere." he growls, his voice deepening with anger and lust combined. you finally stop struggling against him, your body limp beneath his weight.

"atta girl." anakin's expression softens slightly, a devilish smirk forming on his lips. slowly, he reaches down and slips his hand under your robes. a low groan erupts in his throat as he feels how wet you've become.

"see? you don't hate me," a satisfied grin spreads across his face as he leans down, his mouth trailing hot kisses along your neck and shoulder. "no no, if you hated me you wouldn't be dripping right now." you arch your back into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. a pathetic whine escapes your lips as his finger rubs little circles against your throbbing clit.

anakin chuckles darkly, enjoying how you easily surrender yourself to him. "that's better," he purrs, his fingers trailing teasingly over your sensitive flesh.

"now be a good girl and spread your legs for me."

[clonerightsagenda]

For now I think I'm going to use #crude monsters as my catchall tag because I respect a clever title. I'll try to backtag stuff but given tumblr's search function I'm going to pile all my current thoughts in one place so this one at least will be tagged.

Thesis

I've observed a theme in SFF works from the last decade connecting the undead/death magic with fossil fuels/climate change in a way that makes even more literal our contemporary society being powered by dead things (fossil fuels) and positions climate change/pollution as a 'haunting' we've brought upon ourselves. The specter of communism may have been haunting Europe, but the specter of petrochemicals now stalks the globe, and it's getting hot (or cold) in here.

Examples I have collected so far:

The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir

This is the most blatant. House society runs on death even more visibly than our own. It was created by a man working to save the planet, but even his original project betrays a belief that humans can't possibly escape their extractive relationship with Earth - it relied on freezing the entire population until the Earth could recover, instead of changing anyone's behavior. John wipes out our society, but he ends up recreating a lot of its harmful structures, including a reliance on extraction and death. The Houses rely on labor performed by skeletal servitors (more akin to the original zombie-as-enslaved-labor than the modern ravenous swarm). They use material goods primarily made of plastic or human bone/tissue. The Empire expands by killing entire planetary ecosystems and harvesting the death energy, spawning vengeful hauntings that target necromancers (people born from and benefiting from this extractive process) and Lyctors (necromancers who have gone even further to make continual death and extraction core to their identity). John, the leader of the empire, is powered by the death of Earth, and that's what's literally keeping the lights on - when he's briefly killed, the sun starts to go out. Society's view of human life as fuel trickles down to the interpersonal level as well, with many characters blurring devotion and consumption, taking it as a personal rejection when someone refuses to eat them, or deciding that the kindest alternative to the societal status quo is mutual self-immolation (nuclear fusion?).

Beyond the resurrection beasts serving as the vengeance of slaughtered ecosystems, we also see the aftereffects of this regime in the River, which is filthy and polluted. The Cuyahoga River catching fire became a key symbol and tipping point in the environmental movement in the late 60s/70s, and here we have a river that's been befouled by however John broke the world.

Lockwood & Co by Jonathan Stroud

In this series, Britain is plagued by something no one wants to name. It's not haunting, it's a Problem. They're not ghosts, they're Visitors. The dead don't have names, they get nicknames like natural disasters. But at the root is a group of wealthy industrialists who are exacerbating a crisis and profiting off of it at the same time. Business leaders are invading the afterlife to extract a product literally made out of dead people, which stirs up the dead and heightens the Problem. Then they turn around and make money off it by selling key supplies and services (silver, iron, agents, etc.) The reliance on children's Talents is reminiscent of climate change rhetoric around young people. Polls suggest young people are the most aware and concerned about climate change (after all, like with Visitors, they can see and feel it most clearly). Many adults in Turbohaunted Britain are willfully ignorant of the situation, brush off their own responsibility, and talk about how "the children will save us", cheerfully dropping the problem into the laps of a generation that did not cause it but will inherit its worst effects. Of course it's not just children who suffer - the process of invading the Other Side is actively killing the people doing it as well, and yet they still won't stop, driven by extractive greed.

This extraction is also displacing a large population. The dead entering living Britain are victims, but they're dehumanized by the real wrongdoers who need an easy scapegoat and the money they can make off one. The later books in this series were published around the height of the European refugee "crisis", when Europe saw high numbers of migrants from Middle Eastern and North African nations experiencing instability that Western oil interests contributed to. Rather than recognizing their responsibility and welcoming these people, Europe as a whole mostly rejected and vilified them, and nations across the globe continue to latch onto cases where migrants do hurt someone as evidence that they're all dangerous monsters, using them as a smokescreen to deflect attention from the rich corporate architects of our collective misery.

The Scholomance by Naomi Novik

This is my third example, and I might be stretching the undead thing a bit, but not too much imo. In the Scholomance series, privileged magic users, primarily in Western and wealthy nations, live in extravagant protected enclaves, leaving everyone else at the mercy of dangerous monsters. It's eventually revealed that enclaves are literally built on the backs of human sacrifices, which spawn a tar pit-like monster (mawmouth) that roams around devouring people - mostly those unlucky individuals who don't get through the enclave gates, meaning the people who benefit are also the least impacted, just as we've seen with warming and climate disasters. Their comfort comes at a direct cost to everyone else. Mawmouths are made out of that original sacrifice but accumulate their screaming, perpetually dying victims, and El is eventually able to defeat them by reminding them that they're "already dead", so I'd say they're at least undead-adjacent.

When a Chinese wizard learns the secret of enclave construction, he confronts the Western enclaves, who refuse to stop. So, his faction feels they have no choice but to build their own enclaves, even if that makes the problem worse. It's reminiscent of how the West scolds "developing" nations for increasing their population and emissions despite having enjoyed the fruits of living large, carbon consumption-wise, for decades. ("We had our fun, now we're going to wag our fingers at anyone who doesn't want to sign emissions treaties. We're not following them though.") The New York enclave makes a more ~ethical~ mawmouth (Orion = greenwashing??) but mostly so they can weaponize it against anyone who argues with them. Orion being created as part of this arms race and El being born to 'balance' him out again hearkens to the idea that the children will somehow save us, and also revisits that children are the most impacted by our warming future, stuck cleaning up earlier generations' messes.

Hi Nay by Motzie Dapul

This connection was made during a Discord conversation and not by me, so I really need to relisten to the podcast with this framing in mind. A group of mostly wealthy Elders gain magical power through sowing the Toronto landscapes with Foci that harvest energy from death. The ones that bother with justifications say it's for the greater good and the deaths at least are random chance, but in reality the Elders are safe and their Foci impact the unprotected, just as we pretend natural disasters and pandemics are great equalizers when really they and other climate-induced destruction hit frontline populations hardest. Just like the wealthy in our world, they're profiting off of people's deaths and looking the other way as man-made disasters caused by their actions destroy people.

Additionally, the use of death magic at scale destabilizes the barrier between the worlds of the living and the dead, and locations where a Focus has activated in the past are more likely to experience problems again. Essentially it's a feedback loop, the way we see exponential warming and increased disasters as different 'symptoms' of climate change feed off each other. Foci creating corrupt, repulsive "miasmas" that distort the world around them is also reminiscent of ecological damage and pollution.

The showrunner has indicated future episodes might tackle this theme more directly, so I'm excited about that!

Limitations

Of these four works, three were written by white authors living in what I would categorize as an extracting area of the world rather than an extraction zone. All four works are at least primarily in English for an English-speaking audience. This does not reflect the frontline communities most vulnerable to the current ravages of climate change, and I would not be surprised if this theme has arisen in works I have not found, either because they did not make it through mainstream publishing's gatekeeping or because I do not speak the language.

That being said, hauntings often have their logic. There's unfinished business, someone (something?) wants revenge, people crossed lines they shouldn't have. So perhaps this theme popping up in extractive countries is an acknowledgement of that culpability, admitting that we dug up these angry dead, and now we don't know how to put them back to rest. Shame the rest of the world is paying for our trespass.

I'll continue to keep an eye out for more examples of this theme; feel free to let me know if you spot one!