#the initial superstitious concern

[hungrywriter]

Herbs & Hearts (pt.1)

Raiden x f!reader

Raiden and Kung Lao entered Madam Bo's restaurant, instantly greeted by a delightful medley of sweet and savoury smells emanating from the kitchen where Madam Bo worked her culinary magic. They were welcomed by the owner herself, who guided them to their usual table, the spot where they often hung out.

As usual, they playfully argued over who would be picking up the tab for their meal. After this spirited exchange, they stood up in an open area to engage in a friendly martial arts match. Their battle was intense, but in the end, Kung Lao emerged as the winner. His celebration, however, led to an accident when he bumped into a waiter carrying a bowl of noodles, causing the food to go airborne.

The whole restaurant fell silent, anticipating a mess, but from the kitchen, a figure swiftly emerged, wearing a farmer's hat and the familiar restaurant's apron. With incredible dexterity, this person skillfully caught the flying food and restored it to the tray, as if the accident never occurred. The customers, initially holding their breath, broke into applause. The restaurant quickly returned to its usual bustling activity, with the incident soon forgotten.

Raiden and Kung Lao couldn't contain their curiosity and approached the mysterious saviour. When the figure looked up, they immediately recognized her as Y/n, their childhood friend. Y/n was the adopted daughter of Madam Bo, the chef of the restaurant. Madam Bo had found Y/n as a baby, abandoned at her doorstep with nothing but a tattered cloth to protect her frail body. There were stories circulating that suggested divine intervention, as some believed that gods had descended from the heavens to save her. These tales led some superstitious parents in the neighbourhood to warn their children to be cautious around Y/n, fearing that they might inadvertently offend these mysterious deities and bring about a curse.

However, it was only Raiden who immediately welcomed Y/n as a friend. Kung Lao, on the other hand, needed some convincing, but as the years passed, he too grew to love Y/n, not only as a friend but also for her exceptional fighting skills. The trio grew up together and trained martial arts under Madam Bo, forging a strong and enduring bond.

Y/n smiled at them and continued serving customers. The two friends couldn't contain their joy and embraced Y/n. The boys were aware of Y/n's deep passion for plants and her fascination with studying various herbs. She was often found in her room, conducting experiments and nurturing her own herbs. This love for botanical pursuits led her to embark on journeys in search of herbs that she insisted couldn't be found in the village.

Initially, the boys expressed concern and offered to accompany her on these trips, but Y/n politely declined their assistance. Madam Bo, too, advised them not to accompany Y/n, encouraging her independence. In order to avoid upsetting the wise elder woman, the boys eventually accepted and let Y/n pursue her herb-hunting adventures on her own.

"Y/n, when did you come back? We've missed you!" Kung Lao said, affectionately pinching her cheeks. The female laughed at his actions and put her hands over his to get him away from her cheeks. 

"I got back this morning. Mother told me to rest, but you know I can't just sit still for too long," Y/n replied as she picked up a tray of food from the kitchen and resumed serving the customers, with the boys trailing behind her. As she went about her tasks, Raiden couldn't help but notice the bandage on her left foot and her slight limp when she walked.

"What happened to your foot?" he inquired. Setting the food on a table, Y/n turned to face them, a touch perplexed at first, but then realising what he was referring to.

"Oh, I just ran into a bit of trouble during my journey," she nonchalantly shrugged. However, seeing their worried expressions, she swiftly reassured them that she had managed the situation. Kung Lao offered a hearty chuckle and cheered for her, while Raiden could only shake his head, sighing in concern.

Y/n felt a slight disappointment in his reaction, but her spirits lifted when he smiled at her. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her close to his chest.

"Well, as long as you come back in one piece, love petal," he whispered, kissing her head. Y/n returned the hug and turned her head away to hide the growing blush on her face. Kung Lao let out an exaggerated scoff and rolled his eyes before heading back to their table. The duo then parted ways and joined each other at their table, ready to relish their meal and dive into a conversation about Y/n's recent adventures.

[anawkwardgalnamedtarazan]

King Dice's folks...

Pearlie🔮 and Bick🖋

Around the late 1890s, Pearlie, a self-proclaimed fortune teller, traveled with a carnival from far seedy Linseed Bay to the vast Inkwell Isles, where dreams (and nightmares) came true, to make a quick buck. There, she met Bick Ballpoint, a shifty lucky charm salesman, returning from another failed sales pitch. They shared stories of their love for money and how they wanted to live the high life. So, they went into business together, she'd read people's fortunes and he'd and he'd sell 'em "charms" to make life easier, got married, and had a son.

But as the years grew, so did their lust for riches. The couple only saw him as free labor, initially keeping him inside doing chores and spending all their money on themselves while he struggled. When Dice began to develop more as both a scammer and a dancer, they felt they had a star on their hands, one that could have them living the high-life for sure...but not if their boy (and his new friend) have anything to say about it....!

Now for some Headcanons!!!

Pearlie🔮💋

Had Dice (then named Cubert) when she was 20. She wanted a girl with a pearl head like her. She took every opportunity to hold it over the poor kid ever since.

Dreamed of being an opera singer, but her family pushed her to join their tailoring business. So, she left home at age 16 to make it big. But sadly, for her, genetics caused her voice to change, forcing her to rely on scamming people with her "readings".

Was SUPER extra with her appearance. We're talking about polishing her pearl head until it gleamed, lavish-looking outfits, and only the finest jewelry and makeup she could afford. Cuz she always believed looking important is the same as being important.

Favorite colors are blue and violet.

Was incredibly sly, playing on the Inkwellians' fears and desires for fame and easy living (ironic huh?). She often gave phony fortunes to carnival goers, faked seances for grieving and wealthy families, and had her son perform a little prestidigitation to really sell it (ex. pretending to be a ghost or demon, card tricks, charming people, you name it). Despite how hard he worked, Pearlie never really paid him back that much, being more concerned with buying stuff for herself. This did not bode well when Dice began dreaming of becoming a big star.

Headcanon voice: Alana Bridgewater (y'know the original voice of King Dice)

Bick🖋💼

A traveling salesman known for handing out useless junk. During his trip to Inkwell, he noticed its residents were very superstitious about demons and temptation. So, he decided to disguise his products as means to ward them off, from "potions" made from water and cheap cologne to 3-and-a-half leaf clovers to piano wire to trip "unholy ghosts".

His father left him at an early age. This left him depressed and his mother on edge. More often than not, his mother tried to "make a man out of him" by making him do all the chores in their house; if he refused, he would get a major spanking. This left a damper on Bick's confidence, and he ran away when he was 10.

Your typical carney disposition, always barking out to any potential suckers, using every shady scam he can think of to make a quick buck.

Was picked up by a traveling circus as an assistant once, explaining his carney tendencies.

Often had his son perform little dances or parlor tricks for customers. He always said it was "father-son bonding", but he just wanted a talented boy to make money off of.

Often use his money for gourmet meals, clean-pressed suits, and precious gems for his Pearlie.

Dice certainly inherited some showmanship from this guy but became MUCH more convincing with the Devil's help. He also inherited his skittishness. -_-

Like Dice, Bick also helped his wife in her scams, either handing out his nick-nacks or disguising himself as a demon or spirit. Though he and Pearlie were mostly interested in getting rich, Bick truly did see himself hitting the big time together, feeling he's found his soulmate.

Headcanon voice: John Delancey

[connectparanormal]

Norse Werewolves

This video has some background on Norse werewolves. It is an interesting topic. Go Viking werewolves! Here are some more thoughts.

The Norse mythology and sagas feature werewolves, or "varulfr" in Old Norse, in an intriguing way that reflects the culture's complex relationship with nature, warrior ethos, and superstitious beliefs. Norse werewolves are frequently portrayed as warriors who take on the wolf's skins in order to gain their fury and strength, in contrast to the contemporary portrayal of werewolves as cursed people changing under the full moon.

A well-known tale from Norse mythology about werewolves is the "Völsunga saga." The saga narrates the tale of Sigmund and his son Sinfjötli, who find enchanted wolf pelts and become wolves as a result. They battle with the unbridled savagery that comes with their new forms, but they also employ these transformations to fight more effectively. This dichotomy is a reflection of a larger issue in Norse culture, which is the conflict between the untamed, wild elements of nature and human civilization. Norse mythology frequently connects werewolves with berserkers, fighters believed to summon the spirits of wild beasts during times of conflict. These berserkers would go into a trance-like state, displaying superhuman power and a contempt for pain, akin to the legendary werewolves, perhaps through the use of various rites and medicines. This link underscores the Norse's reverence for nature's raw power, which they could harness but also carried a significant risk. These stories' transformational motif also spoke to larger concerns of control and identity. The ability to change between human and wolf forms is a metaphor for human nature's flexibility and the possibility of both savagery and grandeur in a single person. These stories frequently function as warning tales about the dangers of interacting with the paranormal and the loss of humanity in the chase for power.

Aside from sagas and mythology, archeological discoveries imply that animal-skin rites may have been an element of Norse initiation ceremonies for warriors. These customs highlight the wolf's cultural significance, as well as the idea of metamorphosis in Norse culture. Werewolves are complicated characters in Norse mythology who represent the tensions between civilization and the wild, chaos and order, and human and animal relations. They are a reflection of the reverence the Norse people had for the natural world, as well as the fine line that separated humanity from the wild elements that surrounded it.

[netscapenavigator-official]

I’m not a superstitious person, so I’m just spitballing for fun here, but… do y’all remember when FOX News invited a Tarot Reader onto their show, and she pulled the five of cups card? She then proceeded to explain that this card means “a sense of great loss.”

We all assumed that meant Trump was going to lose the election… but he didn’t… Now if Tarot is to be believed (again I personally don’t, but for the sake of the post we will), that doesn’t necessarily mean the card was wrong… That just means we all assumed it was for Trump’s election… but in reality… it was for something else.

And I feel like that should be more concerning to the right than the initial assumption. Now that Trump won the election, this “great sense of loss” is going to come from somewhere that we’re totally unaware of? If he had lost the election, it would’ve been that, and “oh well,” everyone would’ve eventually moved on and recovered…

But he won the election. America’s oldest and least approved-of president is to be inaugurated in about a month… and he has a “sense of great loss” tarot card laying on the strings of his fate. That card is gonna come into play eventually, and I feel like the ideal scenario was for it to be used on the literal election loss. The fact that it wasn’t… I feel implies that something far worse is going to happen to Trump and the American right…

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

The Dorfs with preggo wife, but the Dorfs start experiencing Couvade Syndrome? (If you don't know anything about it, you should look it up. It's super interesting. I get the feeling that the Gerudo would have a perspective on the concept that says if a Voe has this during her pregnancy, then it's a sign that he's either their true soulmate & was made for her or that it's a sign that he’s really & truly in love with her, because it means that his body recognized her plight & wishes to help carry some of that weight. You know, superstitious, but really sweet stuff.)

Definitely an interesting experience to say the least! My brain is having a bad day today, so please allow our beloved ChatGPT to help with answering the asks and come up with perfectly plausible answers. (AKA making Ganondorf the sweetest man ever, truly and utterly

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Reaction: Wind Waker Ganondorf would likely be perplexed and a bit frustrated by the onset of Couvade Syndrome, but his love and concern for his wife would dominate his reaction.

Actions:

Research: He would likely consult ancient texts and the elders of the Gerudo to understand what is happening to him, seeking knowledge and reassurance.

Acceptance: Upon learning that it's a sign of deep connection and love, he would embrace the symptoms as part of his bond with his wife.

Support: He would double his efforts to support his wife, seeing their shared symptoms as a way to understand her better and to share in the journey of pregnancy.

Quote: "This bond we share is deeper than I ever imagined. If this is what it takes to be truly connected with you, then I will endure it gladly."

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Reaction: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf would be initially incredulous and irritated by the symptoms, as they interfere with his strength and focus. However, he would eventually come to see it as a profound sign of his bond with his wife.

Actions:

Resentment to Acceptance: He would start off resenting the symptoms, but after learning their significance, he would accept them with a sense of duty and love.

Adaptation: He would adapt his routine to manage the symptoms, still maintaining his authority and power while also showing more empathy towards his wife.

Compassion: He would show a softer side, perhaps surprising his wife with his willingness to share in her experience.

Quote: "It seems the gods have a sense of humor. Yet if this is the price of our bond, I will bear it with strength."

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Reaction: Twilight Princess Ganondorf would likely be bewildered and somewhat annoyed by the symptoms. However, his deep connection to his wife would make him view it as a challenge to overcome together.

Actions:

Investigation: He would investigate the phenomenon, possibly consulting ancient Gerudo wisdom or magical sources.

Shared Experience: He would view the shared symptoms as a way to strengthen their relationship, using it as an opportunity to show his softer, more caring side.

Resilience: He would endure the symptoms with resilience, finding ways to support his wife more effectively.

Quote: "It appears fate has linked us in more ways than one. Together, we will endure and emerge stronger."

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Reaction: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf would be frustrated and angry at first, seeing the symptoms as a weakness. However, he would come to see it as a testament to the depth of his love and connection with his wife.

Actions:

Resistance to Acceptance: He would initially resist, perhaps even rage against the symptoms, but eventually, he would come to accept them as part of his bond.

Empathy: He would develop a deeper empathy for his wife's experience, using his own discomfort to understand and support her better.

Strength Through Unity: He would frame their shared experience as a demonstration of their powerful connection.

Quote: "I will not be weakened by this. If anything, it proves the strength of our bond. Together, we are unstoppable."

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Reaction: Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf would be deeply confused and possibly disturbed by the symptoms, but his love for his wife would push him to find meaning and strength in the experience.

Actions:

Confusion to Enlightenment: He would start with confusion, seeking answers through both magical and natural means.

Strengthened Bond: He would come to see the symptoms as a mystical sign of their powerful connection, embracing them as part of his destiny.

Protective Nature: His protective instincts would be heightened, and he would use his shared experience to ensure his wife is as comfortable and supported as possible.

Quote: "It appears the universe has bound us in ways I never imagined. This suffering is a testament to our connection, and I will bear it for you."

Overall, each Ganondorf would react to Couvade Syndrome in ways that reflect their unique personalities and their deep love for their wife. They would all eventually come to see it as a sign of their profound connection, using the experience to deepen their bond and support their wife through her pregnancy.

[sophieswundergarten]

More on Constance learning to gamble because the idea won't leave my brain:

She didn't know she was psychic at the time because she was so young, and so she just assumed everyone was really good at reading/guessing body language and couldn't tell why the other players were so bad at it.

The first few times she tried to join a game people would wave her off or look for her parents, so her reaction was to march up, climb onto a chair, slam her tiny hands on the table, and yell "Deal me in!" as loud as possible.

Eventually she gained a reputation for being really great (almost supernaturally skilled) at the game, and so people would let her play out of curiosity; seeing if she was really as good as people said. She always was, and soon people were desensitized enough that she was respected as a regular.

However, a few more superstitious (and more intoxicated) players went way overboard, and began spreading rumors that she was Something Else: a ghost, a curse, or maybe even the devil himself. Those players are always petrified when she's playing, which, of course, makes it easier for her to beat them.

A few of the older regulars are careful to look out for her. She may be a strange little child genius, but she's still a child, and they keep other adults from doing things like giving her alcohol or, on rare occasions, actually physically fighting her when they loose. ("Come on, seriously? You're going to take on a kid over a game of cards? Real mature. You're better than this, let her go." All while Constance smiles deviously in the background)

She has a bunch of little squirrel hoards all over Stonetown, and no one found them because they're in such weird places. Most of the money she used to either buy food, invest back into gambling, or buy notebooks for her poetry.

The way she got enough money to make the initial bets is by picking up change off the street and out of fountains, and by occasionally leaving scathing poems in busker's cases and taking part of their money as a "critic's fee". (She always makes sure to not take too much from those who need it, she has standards, especially for art)

There was at least one time post-Benedict that she was walking with her family and they passed a game, only for a player to nod to her or look terrified as she makes eye contact. Mr. Benedict doesn't really notice, but Rhonda at least has had some experience with the gambling circuit, and she and Number Two exchange mildly concerned looks.

When Milligan encourages the kids to start playing with the adults so as to get their energy out in a way that won't end in actual consequences, a house rule is quickly made that while she will be allowed to "win" a couple of games, all of her wins are invalid because she always cheats.

[chewingbatmanlikeasqueakytoy]

Bruce starts finding dolls of different children dressed as Robin. Initially he thinks it's cute that all these kids are looking up to Robin, even if he's concerned about copy cats, but considering they're all left out on roofs and windowsills he probably doesn't have to be too worried about children wanting to become Robins.

He later finds out the crude dolls are not children's toys, but are in fact superstitious wards against him stealing peoples children to make them into Robins, hoping he'll just take the dolls instead

I love Gothamites thinking that the batfamily are Cryptids when they're not.

I also love the idea that to begin with, Gothamites know Robin has been a bunch of different human kids that the: Definitely a Cryptid Batman™ (bc let's be honest that thing is not human) has taken under his wing.

I think it makes the Robins scarier to them. Like "There's something fucked up enough about this kid that the Demon Bat took them in." And they're all pretty sure that every time there's a switch in Robin's it's bc the Cryptid Demon Batman thing probably killed them off or something.

They always try and warn off whatever new Robin he's taken in, but whenever they do the New Robin always laughs them off or attempts to assure them that they're fine and not worry.

[ravitejasseo]

Super speciality training courses offered in field of Infertility

Let us understand definition of infertility. Misconceptions and false beliefs associated with it. Why addressing infertility is very important in the initial stage itself.

Infertility is one of the major health issues faced by people today. It has reached farther than the medical fraternity creating a major cause of concern in the minds of the people. Basically, Infertility is a condition when one fails to get pregnant even after several months of unprotected regular sex. Infertility can be primary or secondary, where primary infertility is caused to a person who has never achieved pregnancy while the latter one occurs to a person who has achieved at least one pregnancy before.

Causes of Infertility in Men

Studies from various research papers have shown that about 10-15% of the males worldwide are affected by infertility. Factors affecting infertility in male and female reproductive systems:

·         Sperm issues like malformed sperms, oligospermia and azoospermia

·         Genetic Disorders

·         Autoimmune Diseases

·         Cystic Fibrosis

·         Varicoceles

·         Testicular trauma.

·         Hormonal Imbalances

Causes of Infertility in Women

When it comes to infertility, undoubtedly the society would point to a female. On the contrary to superstitious beliefs, there are much bigger reasons as to why a woman is infertile. Here are the few reasons:

·         Polyps and fibroids in the Uterus

·         Pelvic Inflammatory Disease

·         Hormonal Imbalances

·         Ovulation Disorders.

·         Tubal Surgery

·         Endometriosis

How a medical practitioner should address the problem of Infertility: The first and foremost thing as a medical practitioner would be to assess and diagnose the patients. Patients can be treated either with medicines, IUI or ART (Assisted Reproductive Technology). It is extremely important to get well equipped in all these procedures. One can start from the Basic Infertility Course and continue till the Fellowship in Reproductive Medicine to get expertise in all the areas of infertility.

Today, there are several institutions offering wide variety of courses in infertility like Basic Infertility Courses and numerous certification course in infertility. These certification courses in infertility make one understand the basic and advanced concepts of the surgical procedures involved in treating a patient. Besides the hands-on training offered along with these courses is a boon to a student who is from remote location where there are fewer cases and no proper infrastructure to treat patients. 

Online infertility courses in India

Best IVF fellowship in Indiaare offered by many training centres. But the greater challenge lies in providing the quality of online training.

Medline Academics, setup by Padma Shri Dr. Kamini Rao is a best fit solution for all the training needs of reproductive medicine. This institute differs from other leading institutes in providing innovative solution in medical education which involves a hybrid mode of learning where online modules can be completed by the student at their own pace and comfort. Students have to attend sophisticated Simulation training at the institute itself. Clinical attachment can also be carried out by students at the choice of their place and centre under the guidance of expert senior doctor. The theory module is covered online in the form of self-study which the doctors can refer to as per their own free time. Further, under the contact program, one weekly contact class is conducted online so that the students can clear their doubts from the subject experts. These classes are taken by expert faculty in the field of reproductive medicine. The practical sessions are conducted at Medline Academics office in Bangalore, where the students can practice in the high-end most sophisticated simulation lab under expert faculty guidance.

Medline Academics’ has one of a best simulation machines with multiple cases inbuilt providing students to explore call possible practical scenarios giving a real-life OT feel and make student more confident before really treating on a patient. The simulation lab here closely simulates the real case studies which in turn allows students to gain practical experience and develop skills in a controlled setting.

For further information about all the related courses, kindly visit our website www.medlineacademics.com

[zenayeeda]

I can't get over the crew trying to understand Jim. With full sincerity "are you a mermaid?" Idiots. But they actually asked about what to call them and weren't like 'oh well your a lady so we won't work beside you.' On any other ship this reveal would be dangerous for Jim, but these dorks just asked questions and moved on. They weren't trying to be assholes, they were truly confused, but not hateful. That's why I love them.

Hopefully they get to do that ridiculous performance they had planned before everything went tits up.

[doyouknowhowtowaltz]

Please, I must know about your Addams Family AU, my curiosity keeps me up nights

Bear in mind there's little in the way of story put together right now, so I am going to throw down the notes for this au, and a lot of really early sketches.

Meet the Addams! (A break for your convenience because this is long as hell)

- Enoch, Beast, Young Lorna, Whispers, and Adelaide Addams make up the Addams family (in addition to Pumpkin (cat) and Turtle (Dog)

- Beast is the only blood Addams in the lot, and is heir to the Addam's fortune, his living relatives are distant, most don't even share the family name anymore, and all immediate family have been dead and dust for at least a decade.

- Both Whispers and Adelaide are sisters that married into the family and have been since widowed

- Enoch is married into the family (Through Beast, who else)

- Lorna's specific relation to the family is never specified, everyone is Auntie and Uncle, as far as the town is concerned, she's everyone's niece. Its also highly debated if anyone in the family actually knows where Lorna came from.

- Enoch and the Beast are exactly in love as Gomez and Morticia,

- Enoch somehow has even less inhibitions about showing it than Gomez

- Enoch is friendly, the neighbors love him, thinking he's the most normal one of the bunch despite his... unconventional dressing. Strangers who are new to the family normally latch onto him when faced with the... oddity of the rest of the family.

- One problem with this, Enoch isn't a man. He's man-shaped... barely. Enoch's eldritch nature is continually hinted at as part of a long running joke in this AU about Enoch being the normal one despite making no secret of the fact he feels terribly limited by two arms.

- (This is the version of Enoch that made me enact the Rat test)

- There's a rumor running around the neighborhood about a black cat that calls itself Providence and will strike up a conversation with you if you greet it politely.

- Enoch, of course, denies any connection.

- Enoch, weird as he might be, and off-putting as he is on second meeting, does actually have a lot of friends in town, some as odd as him and some perfectly normal average humans who are undaunted in the face of his family.

- One such individual is Miss Clara Dean, who is a finance lawyer for the Addams, and while she might have been shaken when she first met them, she's well past gawking at their odd home and traditions now

- His human glamor is tied to his bolo, I will not elaborate

- Enoch runs for mayor every opportunity, he never wins, but its always by thinner margins than should really be possible

- Adelaide never took her husband's last name, making her the only Addams who's not an Addams.

- She's fussy about the night air, dreadfully superstitious, and quite spiderlike, right down to a colorful web she keeps. She would have married Beast if he had shown a flicker of interest in him.

- She can divine the weather and sometimes says strange things about blue birds and curses

- She doesn't get out much, the neighbors don't know much about her, but all the neighborhood kids agree, she's definitely a witch.

- Whispers is very kind, and if you get past the initial shine on Enoch, probably the most normal of the family

- Except that she eats animals live

- And is also a witch (Probably, definitely, the neighborhood kids all agree, she's gotta be they insist.) Between her and Enoch they are the most out and about members of the Addams family.

- Lorna is quiet, shy, very sweet

- And she eats people.

- She also has a drowned ghost routine she likes to practice on door to door sales people by climbing out of the well in the backyard to give them a scare.

- Lorna's teachers are concerned by her behavior and encyclopedia knowledge of anatomy and torture, but are more concerned about calling a parent-teacher conference, since the entire Addams Clan will show up.

- Lorna sleeps under her bed instead of on it, Whispers occasionally frets about her waking up and knocking herself against the baseboards of the bed, Beast waves her off telling her its perfectly natural, at her age he was sleeping in a coffin.

- She of course ends up with Wednesday's classic noose braids at some point, courtesy of her uncles usually

- There's a red-haired girl who's tough as nails and maybe a little rude about Lorna's family who has been steadily hanging out with her, eventually Beatrice's mom invites the Addams over for dinner, it goes well all things considered.

- And that brings us to Mr. Addams himself,

- Beast wasn't christened Beast, but he hardly remembers the name on his birth certificate anyway.

- Sporting a stunning hat-veil constantly, and a floor length dress (Always black, only black maybe some red, sometimes a little blue and yellow), its safe to say no one in the neighborhood knows what Beast looks like, even if he did ever leave the Addams manor.

- Which he doesn't.

- The nicer gossips muse that he's agoraphobic, and the ruder ones say he's batshit and they're frankly glad he stays inside.

- Beast isn't inherently rude... most of the time, but he is incredibly disconcerting, and gives complements like a serial killer. Which does not help the numerous rumors that surround him and his family.

- He sings too, roaming the woods on the Addams property at night, and he's responsible for a fair few ghost stories.

- And his garden, its a bitter grey thing, and its almost artfully... decrepit, decorated by ornamental trees with grey-orange leaves and bark that almost looks like screaming faces. And his rose bushes, they're his pride and joy. They are so high maintenance though, when they bloom, he spends hours cutting their heads off.

- Every now and then, someone comes to the house, a door to doors salesman, a child on a dare, someone chasing stories of the Addams Fortune.

- All's well and good unless they manage to break into the house. Sometimes they get tangled in Adelaide's traps, sometimes Whispers finds them and ushers them out the door with an ominous warning, sometimes Lorna scares them out of the house and works herself into a giggling fit. Sometimes Enoch finds them, and he's all politeness and veiled menace.

- Oh, but heaven help the fool who gets found by Beast.

- I think that about wraps it up!

Something something cats on leashes, they're grossly in love.

[zerogate]

On the history of Tantra

The lush and verdant Valley of Kashmīr, at the cultural crossroads far to the north of the Indian subcontinent, was one of the key heartlands of nondual Śaiva Tantra, and the original setting for the development of its Recognition school of philosophy. The writings of Tantrik authors from Kashmīr are often collectively referred to as ‘Kashmir Shaivism’, but this is a modern term (originating in the early twentieth century), and in fact there was nothing specifically Kashmiri about the Śaiva Tantrik tradition. However, certain schools of thought within nondual Śaiva Tantra, like the Recognition and Spanda schools, did originate in the Valley of Kashmīr, where the rulers were faithful patrons of the tradition up until the Muslim conquest in the early 1300s.

The valley was and is incredibly beautiful, with its towering mountains, verdant hardwood forests, waterfalls, and rivers, and modest homes built from native woods. Think Switzerland for its natural beauty and craftsmanship, but with a much more diverse culture that derived from being a meeting point for travelers and merchants from India, Persia, China, Mongolia, Tibet, and Chinese Turkestan.

In the time of Kṣemarāja, Kashmīr was a Tantrik kingdom, which means the rulers were (usually) Tantrik initiates who generously patronized the tradition—and therefore indirectly made possible this book! At that time there were many Tantrik kingdoms in the Asian world, such as those of Bali, Champa (coastal Vietnam), Angkor Wat (in Cambodia), and Tibet, and many more in India, Nepāl, and what is now Pakistān. Until just a few years ago Nepāl was a Tantrik kingdom, and nearby Bhūtān is the last of the Tantrik kingdoms existing today.

Less than 100 years ago, nearly all those who had heard of Tantra, both in India and in the West, thought it was a weird, marginal, superstitious sect concerned with magical powers and strange sexual rites. Today, after decades of groundbreaking research, we know that it was an influential and highly developed pan-Asian spiritual movement with many branches that flourished for more than six centuries (c. 600–1200 CE), as I’ve documented in Tantra Illuminated. Not only Shaivism, but all the Indian religions of that era developed a Tantrik component, which was seen by its adherents as the fastest track to spiritual liberation. Though comparatively little of this massively complex religious culture survives today, its influence was enormous: the whole character of Tibetan Buddhism, and a sizable chunk of modern Hinduism, was shaped by Tantra. Tantrik practices, imagery, and aesthetics survive today in lands as distant as Japan and Bali.

[...]

As with many beautiful places, Kashmīr has been under many rulers. In the three centuries after our author, the Muslims invaded again and again, regularly looting and destroying temples, holy places, and monasteries, believing as they did that all non-Muslim religion was an offense to God. In this period, untold numbers of Śaiva Tantrik manuscripts written in Sanskrit were destroyed, but many were saved, held by devoted Kashmiri paṇḍit families and passed down reverently, whether or not anyone in the family could read them. Kashmīr was finally permanently conquered in 1339, after which time ten different Muslim rulers persecuted Shaivism and other non-Muslim religions over a period of 400 years (late fourteenth to late eighteenth century).

Finally, Kashmīr fell into Sikh hands in 1819, and after a Sikh rebellion in British-ruled India of the mid-nineteenth century, the region came into the hands of the British. For political reasons the Brits wanted a Hindu head of state—and so for a period that would last 100 years, Kashmīr once again, after five centuries, had Hindu rulers who would support the study of Śaiva Tantra.

But there had been much destruction, and much sacred knowledge had been lost. The new Hindu kings ruled a population that was 95% Muslim. When Sir Pratāp Singh Sāhib Bahādur assumed his throne in 1885, there were only about forty Śaiva paṇḍit families left in the region (it was these families whose duty it was to preserve the ancient knowledge). Fortunately, these families held a substantial number of manuscripts of original Tantrik texts (scriptures, commentaries, and original works, including the text you’re about to read), but most of them did not understand the content of these texts, not being able to read Sanskrit. As a Hindu, King Pratāp Singh was aware of the treasure trove of scriptures that had been preserved under Muslim rule through painstaking recopying for nearly six centuries.

Singh’s government engaged representatives from the remaining paṇḍit families to gather these original manuscripts: written on birch bark, partially eaten by ants, or rotting in moldy attics. Almost no one had been actually reading these scriptures, but there were a few paṇḍits left who fulfilled the original meaning of their name and were scholars of the Sanskrit language written in the Śāradā script. These scholars compared multiple manuscripts of each work in an effort to correct errors that had crept in over the centuries of copying, and thereby created rough editions for publication (though many copyist errors remained).

Between 1911 and 1947, the government of Kashmīr published about fifty works of Śaiva Tantra, all in the original Sanskrit, as the Kashmir Series of Texts and Studies (KSTS). This is, amazingly, only about 3% of the Tantrik literature that once existed. Another approximately 20% exists in handwritten manuscript form only, still held in government archives in Kashmīr and Nepāl. About 75% of the original body of literature has been lost, probably forever. Fortunately, many (but not all) of the really important and valuable sources survived, since they were copied more frequently, and many of these sources were published in the KSTS series.

In the early twentieth century, the Kashmīr government had stacks of these printed Sanskrit books, commissioned by the king, that virtually no one in Kashmīr actually read. Fifty texts comprising eighty volumes of Sanskrit from a tradition that influenced all of Asian spirituality, now obscure and forgotten by the world. Did these texts contain valuable material? In 1947, when India attained independence and the series finished publication (having lost its funding in the upheaval of independence and Partition), no one really knew of their value aside from the handful of scholars who edited them. However, someone in the Kashmiri government of the time had the thought that Western universities might appreciate having them, and so eighty-volume KSTS sets were mailed to various universities around the world. Onto the shelves they went, where they immediately began collecting dust.

The stage was set for the 1960s. When interest in Eastern philosophy suddenly boomed in America throughout that decade and the following, these encyclopedic scriptures of the spiritual life were just sitting there in university library stacks, awaiting discovery. Some of the students at these universities, influenced by the Beat Generation’s appreciation of Indian spirituality, were meditating, experiencing awakenings, and hearing Hindu teachings laced with Tantrik philosophy (though that wasn’t known at the time) from the likes of Swāmī Satchitānanda and Maharishi Mahesh Yogī. A few of these students were so captivated that they signed up to study Sanskrit so they could better understand the roots of the spirituality they had been exposed to. One of these young Sanskrit scholars was my former teacher Paul Muller, who as a freshman heard Maharishi speak at Yale. It so happened that Paul’s graduate school mentor, Sanskrit professor Gerry Larson, had had a look at the KSTS volumes in the university library stacks, and felt that they might be important. He was too far along in his career to change gears, but he pointed them out to a handful of students like Paul, who became utterly fascinated with them and is still working with them forty years later.

Others, like my former teacher Alexis Sanderson of Oxford, were drawn by intellectual curiosity more than spiritual yearning. Sanderson, like some other young European Sanskritists interested in Śaiva philosophy, journeyed to Kashmīr in the early 1970s so that he could learn directly from the last living guru of the Trika branch of the tradition, Swāmī Lakṣman-jū. Sanderson read all eighty volumes of the KSTS with Lakṣman-jū, then realized that to have the deep understanding he craved, he needed to turn to the original manuscript sources, which were far more numerous.

Fast-forward forty-four years (exactly my age, as it happens) to the present: Sanderson has now read thousands of crumbling, handwritten Sanskrit manuscripts and published over 2,000 pages of path-breaking academic work showing that Shaivism was the dominant religious tradition of the Indian subcontinent for 1,000 years (about 400 to 1400 ce), and that its esoteric Tantrik component had an incalculable impact on all the other Indian religions, especially Buddhism. The primary elements of Śaiva Tantrik yoga—including teachings on the ‘subtle body’, cakras, kuṇḍalinī, Tantrik mantras, mudrās, and Deity Yoga—not only have survived, but today pervade the entire world of modern yoga, albeit usually in highly simplified or distorted forms, accompanied by a near-total ignorance of the tradition from which they are derived.

We are fortunate indeed that this formerly secret knowledge was transmitted to the world before the Śaiva tradition evaporated in Kashmīr. In 1991 the last Kashmiri guru of this tradition, Swāmī Lakṣman-jū, died. The following year, virtually all the remaining paṇḍit families in Kashmīr left in an veritable exodus driven, at least in part, by fear. Now Kashmīr is wholly in Muslim hands—1,000 years after the first Muslim incursion by Maḥmūd of Ghazni in 1014.

-- Christopher Wallis, The Recognition Sūtras

[autisminfiction]

Thoughts on My Little Pony: A New Generation

The show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is special to me for it’s portrayal of autistic coded characters, and I’d argue it was a pivotal phenomenon in autistic culture. It has since completed it’s run, and the pilot for it’s successor just aired yesterday in the form of the movie My Little Pony: A New Generation. Let’s make it clear from that from get go it’s apparent that this show is not going to be as significant to the autistic community as the previous show was as all it’s characters have less autistic traits than those in the original show. We’ve had our time in the limelight, so it’s fine that now the focus is placed on a different, but I’m still going to miss what we had.

It makes sense that this show is different from the previous one in this regard, as thematically this show focuses on cross-group relational problems rather than in-group ones like the previous show, which is more of a concern for neurotypicals than it is for autistic people since they have a much stronger in-group bias. We can see this change in theme from the first scene, where we see Sunny Starscout, the new lead who kinda feels like a neurotypical version of Twilight Sparkle, interprets Twilight Sparkle as being sent to make friends more as a diplomatic mission between pony races that a personal assignment to develop her social skills. Sunny longs to befriend other pony races (unicorns and pegasi, since shes’s an earth pony) and is only ostracized because such beliefs are considered to be heterodox in her community, contrasting with Twilight who never say the point in pursuing friendship with anyone. While intelligent, well-educated, and a little bit geeky, she lacks Twilight’s intensity while maintaining a social intuition that Twilight lacks, and so on.

There is one character though appears to be neurodivergent, if not autistic coded. That is Izzy Moonbow, the unicorn who Sunny befriends. What intrigues me about Izzy Moonbow is that despite being the comic relief she may actually be the most complex character in the movie, with her deeper character appearing almost as an inversion of her superficial presentation. For example, she appears oblivious to her surroundings, but proves to often be the first to come up with a practical solution from their environment, while bubbly she was socially isolated, and while her descriptions of other pony’s “luminescence” (aura) suggests a New Age archetype, she actually contrasts with other unicorns in the show in that she is NOT superstitious. In particular, she also initially appeared to be the opposite of autistic, but it was later shown that she finds it difficult to relate to her peers because she processes the world around her in a different way then they do.

Izzy Moonbow does not appear to be autistic coded as she has been shown to be quite responsive to the emotions of other ponies. There was at least one gag where she directly reacted to another pony’s facial expression, and she appears to describe other’s emotional states and personalities using can colorful metaphors. However, she also demonstrates limited understanding of what is appropriate behavior in various social contexts, so maybe autism is more plausible than it initially appears. One wonders if maybe her descriptions of luminescence is not a metaphor, but her attempting to describe how she experiences the emotions of others, which she is unable to describe in the way neurotypicals do because she doesn’t experience them in the same way.

Let’s get to the essence of her character. Officially her gimmick is that she likes crafts. However, her crafts are shown to be of remarkable mechanical complexity. She is not just an artist, but a tinker, and the only reason that aspect is masked is because her presentation is more feminine than the stereotype of this archetype. The tinker archetype is closely associated fictional depictions of autism, often under the guise of being more interested in machines than people. That description certainly doesn’t apply to Izzy, but it also isn’t an accurate description of autism, and in many depictions of the autistic tinker they are shown as emphasizing with machines as a result of being rejected by their organic peers despite longing to be accepted by them. Izzy is a bit a different, instead desiring to show her contraptions to friends she never had, but there is still a common thread of social desire persisting after rejection.

There is another link between the tinker archetype and autism that also applies to Izzy. The tinker is highly intelligent, but they find it difficult to express this intelligence through words, and instead demonstrate it through their ability to work with their hands. This certainly applies to some autistic people, though others are the opposite. As for Izzy, her comments tend to confuse others, but she has shown to be very competent at solving problems when she can go straight to using her hooves and horn, such as when she created a bridge from a tree while the rest of the group was complaining about being unable to cross a chasm. I think this is most of all what gets to the essence of Izzy’s character. She does not see the world like others do, but it cannot be denied that her perspective if just as valid because she proves it is through what she does.

Many people have compared Izzy Moonglow to Pinkie Pie, both being social comic characters who are very obviously neurodivergent, but I find Izzy Moonglow to be a much more realistic depiction of someoen who is neurogivergent, while Pinkie Pie is more just a comic character without depth. Both would be difficult to label with any real-world disorder, but while the reason for Pinkie Pie is because there simply is nothing beneath the surface connecting her diverse behaviors, with Izzy it’s because she’s meant to be a individual with personal depth rather than checking of a list of traits. I also wonder if some of the difficulty in identifying what is going on comes from the path that she has a very feminine presentation, but her way of processing things has traditionally been associated with males, and thus sexism in the psychiatric community would lead to them failing to identify her underlying thought processes. That’s certainly the case for many autistic women, and it could very well extend to someone like Izzy.

That’s all my thoughts about how autism and neurodiversity relate to this incarnation of My Little Pony for now. There is going to be a full series following the movie, so I’m looking forward to watching it, and particularly seeing more of Izzy. Depending on how she’s portrayed in episodes I may even decide to give her an actual profile. As for now though, I just think it’s really interesting how both Izzy Moonglow and Twilight Sparkle are purple unicorns who can ambiguously be interpreted as being autistic, but have completely different personalities. Izzy is breaking new ground, as while Twilight Sparkle’s personality was pretty common for fictional depictions of autistic males prior to her being a female instance of it, Izzy’s is one that hasn’t been depicted much at all, and I wonder if any autistic girls relate to her in a way they haven’t related to characters before. So even while the show has a whole is less neurodiversity focused then the previous one, it still has something in it for us, and that can be enough.

[kingsansa]

Sometime ago you mentioned a hades/persephone au and i was eold the moment i read it is that still an idea your entertaining?

Yeah. It’s my canon divergent au. It’s a cross between that myth and the Witcher. Basically, on her death bed, Lyanna made a deal with the Old Golds for them to protect her son. Jon was taken in by them and became a conduit for death, allowing him to move between the mortal world and his home. It’s more of a mantle so there was someone before him and there will be people after him, etc.

Three years later, a fever outbreak hits Winterfell. Catelyn is among them. The fever has killed many in Wintertown, and as far as Maester Luwin is concerned, it’s going to take Catelyn too. Ned, who loves his wife and has a three year old son and also remembers what it was like to lose his mother to sickness, is beside himself with grief. He would do anything to save his wife. He prays for her. Begs for a sign.

Enter Jon, who has watched this family on and off for years, because he knows that it’s his mother’s family. He wants to help Ned, but he can’t without exacting a price. Though he aged quickly, he hasn’t been a god for long. He offers Ned a way of payment that he thinks will be the least costly—the law of surprise. If Ned agreed, he would owe him the very next gift/boon that came to him unexpectedly, or something that he didn’t know he had. Jon heals Catelyn. Through this he learns that her fever wasn’t a result of the outbreak at all, but her pregnancy. Ned’s debt is paid.

Ned doesn’t find this out until Maester Luwin tells them both a full month later—Jon doesn’t tell him. At all. Geralt style, he’s kind of hoping it just goes away. Ned follows Jon’s lead and doesn’t tell Catelyn, still thinking he can find a way out of this. He tries to ask Jon for help several times, even putting himself in near death situations until Jon finally shows up and breaks the news to him: a bargain cannot be bargained for. Catelyn eventually finds out when her daughter is born with the mark of the bargain on the back of her neck, which as a very religious, superstitious person, she knows. She’s initially devastated, and angry at Ned. But she knows he did it to protect her, and together they agree that despite the bargain, they can’t let Jon ever have Sansa. Ever. They have to raise her as if she was a normal girl. This is important, because none of the Stark children are really normal. They come from two old bloodlines and they show evidence of it early on. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough to make the people of the castle wonder.

Jon steers clear for a couple years. He wants nothing to do with her. Well, he’s considering making her take his place as a Conduit. Being Death is mentally exhausting and draining. He’s ashamed of the fact that he’s thinking about doing this to his family, but he still hasn’t exactly until he sees her. That’s when he knows he can’t. She’s only six years old, but he sees the way that the castle and everyone in it is head over heels in love with her. She has everyone spellbound and Jon becomes one of those people. He decides he’ll protect her from a distance instead.

Of course, it doesn’t work. Canon starts up. Ned’s main decision in taking her down south is that it’s a place the Old Gods mostly can’t touch. Jon begs him to keep her North, where he can protect her, but Ned takes insult to the fact he can’t protect his own daughter. It pushes him further away. For years, Jon has no way of reaching Sansa, though he hears plenty of horrors: the death of her family, her treatment by the king, her marriage to the imp.

Until one day, he hears a story about a girl who used magic to kill a king. Enough magic that it was felt across the continent. Enough magic that it broke a thousand year old barrier between old gods and new gods and all those in between.

Enough that after years of trying, Death is finally able to come south.

[aerialsquid]

Dogs of the Military

Pairing: Scar/Major Miles (implied)

Characters: Scar, Major Miles, Tim Marcoh, Assorted OCs

Warnings: Referenced war atrocities, referenced cruelty to animals, animals in medical distress.

Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Ishval Rebuilding, Dogs, Animal Husbandry, The Military, Angst but Hopeful

Summary: Co-writing and initial ideal credit to @ravensandwritings. FMA Secret Santa 2021 (@fmasecretsanta) present to @klainelynch, who requested found family type fic. This is sort of half a present and sort of two presents, as this one got away from me and your Christmas present is Chapter 1 of a multichapter piece. I hope that this is not a disappointment!

-----

"Beg your pardon, a what?"

"He says there's a monster in the desert. Obviously, it's, you know." Private Nelson, a slightly chunky man who always seemed to be wearing a uniform a size too large for him no matter how many times he checked his belt, made a little gesture that indicated 'You know how these superstitious locals are' that Miles thoroughly did not appreciate.

The soldier next to him, Private Hume, offered a shrug. Hume wore her hair cut even shorter than military regulations insisted and had a perpetual expression of mild distaste on her features, one that seemed even more intense today. "Well, it's not just him. We've had three of them, and you know how rumors are when they get around. Everyone's jumping at shadows and blaming evil spirits for tripping over their own feet."

"You said it had carried off an entire sheep. Do imaginary spirits do that?"

Nelson let out a mild grunt of frustration. "No, but the neighbors do. Or local wildlife. Or sometimes the damn things just fall down a hole and get stuck because they're sheep, sir."

"Regardless, in what way does it improve the local people's trust in us to disregard their concerns and let their small flocks continue to be ravaged while we sit back here safe and comfortable?"

"Who says we're comfortable?" Hume mumbled, scratching at her neck, where sweat and fabric had combined to leave a growing rash.

"What was that, private?"

The scratching hand snapped to Hume's side. "Nothing, sir."

"Good. Tomorrow, you will accompany the Ishvalan consul and ask the witnesses to take you to where the monster was sighted. Further complaints or mockery will be subject to discipline. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

* * * *

"It's like herding a bunch of feral cats."

"You don't like cats?"

"I'm fine with cats. I like not having rat droppings in my daily bread. But cats are not a military animal. Dogs, you can train, but cats will do as they please and your only task is to make sure what they please is also what pleases you. If I wanted cats, I'd have gone into politics. I prefer dogs."

"I suppose the harsh rigors of Briggs did not prepare you to deal with soldiers lacking discipline."

Mile rolled over onto his side, lounging across the bed as he watched Scar preparing to join him. The little house they were both staying in had only one other room besides kitchen and bathroom, with a curtain hung on a rope to split it into Scar's quarters and Major Miles's. Each had a bed, a small table, and it was assumed they would make the situation work until such time as Scar moved out. After…certain negotiations and diplomatic relations…they'd pushed both beds together on one side and left the other side as their mutual office and study room. It kept Scar from rolling out onto the floor at night, and gave Miles a much nicer view than construction sites and the single determined bush growing outside their window.

"Ironically, the rigors of Briggs make discipline much easier," Miles noted. "Up there, we are surrounded by enemies. Not just enemy soldiers, but also the cold, the wind, the wildlife–"

"-a housewife–"

"I'm filing that under wildlife. Anyway, my point is that we have to have discipline and trust among us or we will literally die. We have enemies to focus on, so all our frustration can go toward them. Here, we are not asking them to merely fend off enemies but to protect civilians and aid in their comfort and mental security. The discomforts are small but many, instead of large and near overwhelming. The end result is a resentment that has nowhere to go, and no understanding that getting along with the men around you is the only way to keep everyone alive."

Scar gathered water in the palms of his hands and splashed it across his face, rubbing, then pressing it back through his hair. It was growing out nicely. Maybe too nicely, Miles might need to take scissors to it before it turned into a full on mullet.

* * * *

The next day, Scar took a party out into the old Amestrian military ruins. With him were Nelson and, reluctantly, Hume, along with the Ishvalan shepard who'd last seen the alleged monster. Lior, barely fourteen, was accompanied by his father Boaz and Ofra, a young woman they'd claimed was his sister. The war had shattered families so badly that many had clung to whoever they'd washed up with, claiming them as siblings and children after the fact just so the government would let them stay together. It wasn't as if there were records left to prove otherwise. Ofra carried a long knife with them, and Scar knew for a fact that was not the only one she had on her person.

Lior's pace was skittish as they walked out into the blasted rocks, not just because of the monster that he'd definitely for sure seen but because he's keenly aware only half the men on the expedition actually believe he's not making it up. He tried to seem rational, not some panicky rural twit, but he mumbled his words as he guided them down.

"Saw it over here. I think this used to be where the Amestrian scientists did...did their horrible stuff, you know? The doctors? So maybe it's...it's something of that." He stumbled over stray bits of rubble, eyes not meeting anyone's gaze. The place was barely standing, and not just because of the war. Scar recognized alchemical markings on some of the rocks where the building was deliberately torn down, perhaps even by someone who Scar later killed with his own hands. The military had tried to sink it in the desert, but they'd been in a hurry, and the wind had worn open holes in the ground with stairs leading to underground facilities.

Lior stuck closer to his father as they approached the yawning maw in the sand.

The two Amestrian soldiers with them only knew the general details of what happened here.They knew to be respectful here, to not make jokes or treat this as nonsense made up by a scared and superstitious shepherd, but none of the particularly.

Ishvalans, of course, knew exactly what happened here, plus or minus some wild rumors. When the truth was already so unbelievable, anything was possible. Lior fully expected to find screaming one-eyed zombies, or undying monstrosities made of his cousins, or the scientists still practicing their horrible work below ground with no care to the end of the war.

In the darkness, something stirred, and then darts from one shadow to the next. Guns snapped up, Ofra's knife flashing before her. Silence hung over the still, dusty hair.

It could have been rats, or simply a trick of the light in a slowly decomposing building. One of the soldiers even laughed a little, lowered the tip of his gun and opened his mouth to make a crack about ghosts and trigger fingers.

Then a rough growl came out of the shadows, a burst of movement through the brief spots of light coming in through the crumbling ceiling, and nobody thought it was just the wind anymore.

"Is that...it isn't a dog, is it?" said Hume, very faintly.

The creature's being backed into a corner now, teeth bared and catching the flickers of light. The eyes flash, and they're entirely the wrong shape for a dog. Or any animal that size. Then it was gone down one of the drainage pipes cracked open by the explosion, and was gone beyond their reach.

The word 'chimera' was whispered behind Scar's back. The soldiers had heard of the creatures, through rumor mill or through very discrete briefings by Miles, but none of the ones here had actually seen a chimera in person. The Ishvalans had believed they were just more propaganda, so used were they to the government putting out fearmongering.

But they all knew something horrible had happened here. They'd just held out hope it had been done for some reason besides its own horror.

Scar put a hand to the wall besides the drainage pipe. He felt power surge up his stolen right arm, across the intricate tattoos and out through his fingers to dissolve the wall back into sand.

"Forward."

"Shouldn't we go back and report to–"

"You are welcome to do so. I am going onward."

Hume and Nelson shot a glance between them, silently fretting over how badly it would look to send civilians in while they ran away in fear, and reluctantly followed behind Ofra and her huge knife.

As they headed into the corridor they passed the withered remains of corpses. Some appeared to be sheep, or at least partially sheep, but others were clearly human.

One of the soldiers crouches next to a crushed body and notes, with some disgust, that it's wearing an Amestrian uniform. To hide this place, they'd even slaughtered their own people.

The Ishvalan grumpily asks why he's surprised. Did he think Amestrians were special to these monsters? The man ducks his head and refuses to respond, instead noting that the smell seems to be getting worse this way. Worse, and fresher.

Scar moved through the dark like the hunter he'd been forged to be. Some of those damned Amestrian light-up goggles would have helped right about now, but he had ears too.

The noises were difficult to interpret but he could at least follow their direction. Perhaps the clicking of chitin, or the tapping of hard nails on metal. At least none of it sounded…human.

From a mass of crumpled and half-melted cages came a low growl. The monster knew it had been seen, enough to risk a noise in the faint hope it'll scare the monsters with guns and knives away. Hume's flashlight panned over another chimera huddled in a filthy nest that reeked of dead things. Black plating covered brown fur on its back and tail, ending in a stinger that it struggled to raise as it stood on spindly, mangy legs.

Like the other creature, it was thin enough that the edges of ribs could be seen along its sides–unlike the other, its belly is distended and swollen beneath it despite the obvious malnutrition. The tail was waving in the air not in threat display, but because she could barely hold it up. It growled, but even the teeth it bared looked worn.

He hated that he pitied it. He hates that its state stayed his hand when a child fused to the family pet did not.

The Nina creature had a mind enough that could grasp her wrong state, but rendered dumb enough with the mingling of the dog that she would be a good girl, a sweet and precious talking chimera to keep her father in his comforts.

This thing, it didn't understand that it had no right to exist.

Scar extended a hand to Nelson. "Give me your coat." The chimera growls again, hunching bony shoulders under its carapace. Its rows of eyes flicker and dilate in the dim light.

Nelson shucked his coat, grumbling, if only because he was more afraid of Scar than the chimera. "S'gonna come out of my pay if it shreds," he mumbled.

Scar approached the chimera, holding the coat before him as target and shield, then simply tossing the entire thing over the animal and hefted it up into its arms. The creature protested, clacking and growling, a wiggling bundle of blue-clad menace.

"You. Private Nelson," he says, as if he wasn't carrying a exhausted weapon of war that had never been unleashed. "You're to run out ahead and tell Mr. Mauro to expect a pregnant animal to tend to. He will make ready."

"And Major Miles?"

"Yes, I suppose you'll have to tell him eventually."

The chimera eventually falls limp in his arms as he carries her back, letting out a weak 'wrrr' of complaint as she's toted along like a wayward Resembool sheep. The others follow but stay away from him, wary of...bites? Stings? A touch from that horrible arm? This seems fitting, to the soldiers, a monster taming a monster. To the Ishvalans it's just more proof of his power.

She had no strength, Scar thought. She was not a threat. She would not die in the dark like a shameful secret, another horror of Amestris' bloody history buried in the sands of Ishval.

* * * *

"Are you sure it's not just a very ugly dog?"

"I-sir, I don't know," Nelson said, wide-eyed and shuffling his feet. Major Miles was staring at him so long that he'd had to rush to affirm he wasn't drunk, insane, or pulling a prank. "But he's bringing it back here to Doctor Mauro."

Doctor Mauro, known in a previous life as Tim Marcoh. The alchemist. Or former alchemist? Miles doesn't know if that's the kind of job you can just give up, or something that stays inscribed in you like the ink on Scar's arms. It's a discussion he'll have later.

"And that's not…dogs can't be shaped like that, sir. Not naturally. I'd heard rumors that they did weird experiments here during the war, but surely it can't be–"

"Either way, clear a path for him and ensure the civilians are out of sight. Do not breathe a word of this to anyone, military or civilian. If it actually is a chimera, I want as few people to know about it as possible. If it is not, I don't want to hear that you got drunk and spilled the beans to the mailman." And if it's just an ugly dog, as few people will see how embarrassing it is as possible."

* * * *

It was not, in fact, an ugly dog.

Marcoh's weathered hands ran over the belly of the creature lying bound on his work table, the expression on his mangled face tight with concern. His eyes flicked to Scar every so often, who kept a still and easy gaze over the both of them. He pressed where he could, listening for changes in heartbeat and in breathing that would indicate pain, but the creature was so tired it barely had commentary to offer.

"I–you know, I think you already know what I'm going to say, don't you? You'd know it just to look at the thing," he said. God, he felt so tired. This place had seen so many horrors, why did one more need to come out and remind them of his country's sins. Of his sins.

Scar gave a small, silent nod, his face like the stone cliffs above the city.

"It's a chimera." Marcoh's fingers soothed down the chitin over its neck. "And it's pregnant."

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (1)

A WIBAR AU (that’s right, an AU of an AU) where the circumstances of Virgil’s introduction to the group-- or rather, Virgil himself-- are... a little different. A commission for @bumblebeekitten! 

warnings: unknowingly referring to a person as ‘it’, panic, fear, child endangerment

---

Patton woke up to the distinctive clamor of his teammates bickering. It was a familiar sound. 

“-- has been three days, are you certain we aren’t simply chasing a local legend with no basis in reality?” That would be Logan!

“Look, you two are the ones that decided to come with me, I would have been perfectly fine going alone!” And there was Roman, the swish of his tail betraying his agitation. “Besides, there’s something suspicious going on here, I’m sure of it.”

“Oh? And what evidence do you have to support your assertion?” 

“... I’ve just got a feeling.” 

Logan made a sound of disgust, and Patton sat up in time to see his friend throw all four hands out in an exasperated gesture. He sleepily rubbed at his eyes, shaking out his mussed-up feathers. 

“Are you tired of camping already, Lo?” 

The Ulgorian exhaled slowly, his ears twitching irritatedly. “No. I simply am uncertain that this venture will prove beneficial. We don’t have the budget to waste time on a vain attempt to soothe superstitious locals.” 

“Don’t be so heartless, Professnore,” Roman snapped, quickly checking his pack for everything he would need while out traversing the woods. “They’re asking for help because they’re worried. Something out there has driven the Humlilts into hiding, for all we know, the livestock could be next!” 

“They suspect the local fauna are being threatened, but that’s only one potential explanation--,” Logan started, and Patton swiftly tuned out the argument, remembering suddenly what he’d intended to check on. He hopped to his feet and checked on his ‘Humlilt bait’-- a small dish with sweet sliced fruit he’d set out.

Humlilts’s were relatively small, timid creatures, hoofed quadruped mammals that stood even shorter than Patton. They weren’t fond of being directly approached, and even initiating eye contact could scare them off, but if they took a liking to someone, they tended to be fiercely loyal. The fact that many had strayed from the nearby town was concerning, no matter the reason.

“Yes!” Patton chirped in glee when the plate proved empty, only a few spots of juice left behind. Behind him, the heated discussion faltered. 

“Something you’d like to share with the team, Feathers?” Roman asked, one of his ridged eyebrows twitching up curiously. Logan frowned at the dish, and Patton quickly replied before he could be lectured on leaving ‘fauna attractants’ out by mistake. 

“I’m one step closer to making a new friend!” he announced gleefully. “Good morning, little critter! Are you still around?” 

There was no response from the forest, but he remained cheerful, his antennae barely flickering. “Aw, feeling shy? I’ll befriend you yet, little critter, just you wait…” 

“Patton,” Logan started. “Do you mean to imply that last night, you intentionally placed food out to lure local creatures to our camp while we are in the middle of trying to track down an unknown, potentially dangerous beast?” 

“Of course not!” Patton responded, picking up the plate to stow it away. Before Logan could relax too much, he continued. “I’ve been leaving snacks out since the first day we made camp!” 

He scrunched his eyes closed to show his happiness, and not at all to avoid the incensed look Logan would be giving him right about now. 

“Have you any idea how dangerous—“ 

“Woah, Lo, it’s a-okay!” Patton hurried to reassure him. “I know for sure that it’s a little hummer and not anything else. The last two sunrises, when I woke up and greeted the day, I would hear it call back, just like the noise Logan said they make! The little critter is following us around, and soon we’ll be best buds, I can feel it.”  

Logan waved a spare hand dismissively, already well into his datalog, muttering as he scoured the articles he had saved for this journey for any mention of on-planet predator animals using mimicry. Roman shuddered his scales in fond exasperation, his tail thumping against Logan’s ankle.   

“Relax, Specs, I’ll be sure to protect us from any malignant beasties.” He paused, and then cast a slightly admonishing glance down at Patton. “That is, so long as there aren’t any more secret surprises you’ve been keeping from us, Pattoncake?”  

“No secrets here! The next time I try to adopt a new member into our little family, I’ll make sure to let you kiddos know in advance,” he chirped with his eyes crinkled. The gleeful expression didn’t fade a bit as his words prompted Roman and Logan to burst into brand new diatribes.  

“Wait, is ‘lure them with sweet snacks’ your usual go-to? Did that work on me--?” 

“Patton, we are not kidnapping local fauna--!” 

Yup, familiar sounds indeed. 

---

The rest of the morning was spent trekking through the woods and filling the air with companionable bickering, but by midday, Roman had found tracks. And then he found more tracks. And finally, he found The Tracks.

Unlike the first few instances, Logan was unable to confidently match the bipedal mammalian prints to any native creature in the area. After some triumphant crowing about his skills, Roman led the way with significantly less chatter, prompting the other two to follow suit as dusk slowly began to fall. 

Patton kept his feathers sleek against him so they wouldn’t brush roughly against the foliage, and made sure his glow was as muted as possible as the sky darkened. He didn’t come on bounty trips often, but every proper Ampen knew how to be stealthy when need be. Some made a whole career out of it!

Between one heavy step and the next, Roman suddenly stilled, holding up a clawed hand to ensure they did the same. His ear cones shifted subtly, searching. The moment stretched, tension so thick it felt stifling, and then--

A slight sound to the left. Movement.

“There!” Roman shouted, and a dark shape flashed past Patton, silhouetted by the moonlight off the pale rock wall behind it. It was big. Definitely not a Humlilt. “Cut it off!” 

Logan was already in motion, spines raised as he held out his staff and barred the creature's way. He flicked the glow light at the top of the staff on and illuminated the outline of the being, which seemed almost fibrous in nature. Patton knew of some planets with mostly chlorophyll-based lifeforms, and this almost seemed to match. The creature had a body erupting with brush and plant matter, and a face of flat wood.

“Drive it this way,” Roman called. “I’ve got the unit ready!” 

It hissed furiously as Logan swung the light closer, and Patton saw the moment it turned its head slightly and realized it was being corralled. It lunged forward in a feint, and then ducked away from Logan’s swing and grabbed the staff, wrestling viciously with the smaller alien for it. The reflected light seemed to shine eerily in the back of its hole-like eyes.

Patton hurried forwards, but he wasn’t close enough to stop the creature from wrenching the staff out of Logan’s grip, knocking the Ulgorian over in the process. Roman shouted, too far away to intervene. Logan shot a few spines, but they weren’t laced and barely seemed to phase the creature. It screamed gutturally as it lifted the staff up, and Patton forgot every promise he’d made to stay out of the way of any quarry larger than him.   

“Stop!” he screeched, throwing his arms out and letting his feathers flare up as bright as they could go. 

The distraction worked; the creature twisted away from Logan to focus on the new element, jolting forward a few steps before distinctly pausing, its shining eyes fixated on Patton. It took another smaller step towards him, tilting what Patton assumed was its head. 

“Little critter!” 

“Wh-- what?” Patton replied, stunned.

“Little critter? ...Good morning, little critter?” the creature chirped again, uncertainly. Every syllable was a perfect imitation of the phrases Patton had called out the three mornings they’d been there, just a little muffled.

The creature dropped to a crouch, and the abruptness of the motion made Patton flinch, startled. As though repentant, it set the staff on the ground slowly, and then made the distinct musical tone of a Humlilt. 

Patton gaped, the pieces clicking into place. Not a Humlit. The Humlit. The one he’d been working so hard to befriend, the one following them around, the one that apparently wasn’t a Humlit at all. 

In the next moment, Roman’s charging footsteps arrived, and all traces of softness vanished from the creature’s demeanor as it rose to its feet with a snarl, turning to face off against Patton’s crewmate. 

This isn’t right, Patton thought, and didn’t wait another moment before inserting himself between the two larger aliens, whistling shrilly. “Wait!” 

At his back, Roman skidded to a halt, incredulous half-formed protests spilling from his mouth. 

At his front, the creature held its aggressive position for a heartbeat longer, and then lowered its hands slightly, stumbling back a step and looking between Patton and Roman with uncertain antsiness. 

“Little critter? Little critter good?” it chirped, and Patton could feel the way Roman and Logan stiffened behind him. 

“Hey, little critter,” Patton said, slowly moving to sit down on the dirt. “I think we got off on the wrong claw. You don’t really want to fight, do you?” 

The creature shuffled anxiously, and Patton tapped the ground behind him. “Roman, why don’t you join me?”  

“Pat, come on,” Roman started, and then grumpily lowered himself to a seated position at Patton’s imploring look.

Across from them, the creature visibly relaxed, head cocking to the side inquisitively. After a moment, it lowered itself into a crouch like before. 

Patton’s antennae fluttered, and his happy glow increased slightly. “Good job! We’re already halfway to being friends, huh?” 

“Good,” the creature echoed, voice still uncertain and so small. “Hurt no?” 

“We won’t hurt you,” Patton replied, and the creature’s head lifted up to look at Roman doubtfully.   

After a moment, Patton heard the click of Roman’s scales flattening out in a show of nonaggression, and the Crav’on sighed. 

“On my honor, I won’t hurt you if you remain peaceable,” he said, extending a hand palm up to symbolize his oath. 

To their surprise, the creature reached out and touched him, grazing the dull talons and poking some of his smaller scales with cautious curiosity. It mumbled something to itself in a language Patton didn’t know, and folded Roman’s fingers into a loose fist before finally releasing him. 

“He’s pretty cool, isn’t he?” Patton whispered conspiratorially, and the creature held a hand out to him in a mirroring of Roman’s earlier gesture. He reached out and put his little clawed fingers on their palm, marvelling at the size difference. “You’re no critter, huh?” 

He turned to the side, the strange alien following his gaze. “Lo, I can hear you taking notes from here. You wanna come say hi?”

“Don’t patronize me,” Logan replied sourly, clasping his hands behind his back. “I simply didn’t wish to startle-- oh!” 

Logan’s eyes went wide as the stranger stalked over, body still low in its crouch. The behavior read as classically predatory, but the curious mumbling of the stranger made it clear that they weren’t acting aggressively. He hesitantly offered one of his own thin-fingered hands, the stranger pressing their palms together as though to compare the shapes. 

“Hello there,” he greeted belatedly. “Can you understand me? I am Logan, and those are Roman and Patton.” 

“Little critter!” the stranger offered enthusiastically, and then dissolved into another string of that unfamiliar language before bounding off and returning with the glow staff in hand. 

Patton could feel the way Roman went tense, but the stranger slowed down as they got closer and then set the staff on the ground a little bit in front of Logan, rolling it a few inches towards him.  

Logan made no move to pick the staff, and it was easy to see why. The fluorescent lights installed in the head of the staff lit the stranger up from below, illuminating the details that they’d missed before.

Four thin, pale limbs were smudged with dirt and grit, the edges of tattered old textiles peeking out from under the carpet of greenery that cloaked them. They could now see that the foliage wasn’t part of them, but a dedicated attempt at camouflage, built up for so long that some of the plants were growing around their shoulders or tangling in their dark hair. Most striking of all, the wooden plate that had covered their face had been knocked slightly askew, revealing half of a round face with big eyes and tiny features.    

“You’re just a fledgeling,” Patton said, something in his chest tightening at the way the child’s gaze flickered between them, nervous but hopeful. The curiosity, the nervousness, it all made sense knowing that this was a youngling.

“No, that’s not just a child,” Roman spoke up, shaken. “That’s… that’s a Human child.” 

Patton and Logan turned to him, shocked, but the child reacted the quickest of all, shooting into a standing position. They clumsily darted back a step as all eyes fell on them, chest rising and falling rapidly. “No! No! No Human, go away!” 

“Kiddo,” Patton tried, but before he could do more than reach out, the child turned on their heel and vanished back into the underbrush. The rustling of their movements quickly faded, leaving the three of them sitting in the clearing in silence. 

“Are you certain?” Logan finally said, rising to his feet and approaching them. “Roman, you’re absolutely sure about this?” 

“I… yeah.” The Crav’on flexed his hand, almost dazed. “I thought they would be more-- I mean, yeah, I’m sure. There’s no mistaking those eyes.” 

“Very well,” Logan nodded, hands already dancing delicately around him as he committed the encounter to memory. “In that case, I suppose we’ll be staying on-planet for a little longer.” 

“Wait, what?” Roman asked, both of them turning to look at the Ulgorian with surprise. 

Logan glanced up at them with a raised brow, knowing and smug. “I don’t believe either of you are the type to leave a semi-feral Deathworlder child alone on a planet where the locals believe them to be a monster. Thus, we are staying to help rectify the situation. Am I incorrect?”

“It’s not that simple,” Roman cautioned, but faltered after a moment. “However… you’re right. We can’t just leave them here. They need help, Human or not.”

“That’s right!” Patton agreed enthusiastically, his feathers ruffling up in excitement. “Looks like we’re getting a new member of the family after all!” 

[a-fritterer]

My 2 cents on Netflix movie Mignonnes/Cuties

Warning : spoiler

I am taking the risk of losing my followers but I'm going to give my two cents anyways because I feel like it'll also clear my conscience. I will try to put my thoughts as objectively as possible without attacking or demeaning any school of thoughts or ideology.

I watched Cuties on Netflix because I wanted to know why it is getting so much backlashes. My conclusion is, I hate this movie and I wish I could unsee this.

Hear me out why.

I did some background checks. This is a French coming-of-age comedy-drama film written and directed by French-Senegalese Maïmouna Doucouré-I am copy pasting this sentence straight from google. The initial poster that Netflix used was really disturbing and points out Netflix’s desperation to draw mass attention-which is plainly disgusting given a room full of people were okay with this idea. Netflix although came up with an apology and replaced the poster, but that doesn’t make this movie any less disturbing for me.

If I want to summarize the plot in a few words- Amy comes from a typical conservative Muslim family which tells her how to act like a Muslim woman. Her father married another woman and her mother was struggling with the reality of raising 3 children in a foreign country on her own. A 11 year old girl is sure to have a lot of confusion about her femininity; a girl that age also feels rebellious given the dysfunctionality of her family. Amy gets drawn to Angelica who was dancing to raggetone while doing laundry. After that, Amy embarked on a journey where she twerked and grinded and made seductive gestures multiple times (which she learned from videos of stripper women wearing little to almost nothing) for dance competition practices with the group, took a picture of her private part and posted it online-just to name a few. These kids wanted to be treated as ‘not just kids’. In the end, Amy had an epiphany (which felt really vague because she started to tear up and left the dance competition for which she did all sorts of questionable things) and began her life as a normal child.

I know that pedophilia, hypersexualization of underage children, child trafficking are all too real issues. I read somewhere that the director wanted to tell this as her story. Did she do a good job? My answer is-not at all. You wanted to tell a story where underage girls dress and act like adults because they feel pressured by society; you could choose documentary style film execution or animated movie. This movie felt like you wanted to say that don’t do serial killing by showing long shots of graphical murder and showing footage from such an angel which feels intentional and at times, I don’t know how to put it in word even, to preach that serial-killing is a crime. It’s a contradiction. You used real underage girls and took uncomfortably long and zoomed shots of their legs spreading, chests and buttocks shaking, grinding on the floor, biting their lips - it felt way too detailed and intentional which I feel like no sane person would want to watch. I couldn’t look at those scenes, it’s really disgusting cause it felt like these girls are way too young to be exposed to this kind of stuff. I heard that a psychotherapist was consulted during shooting this movie but this doesn’t avoid the damage. Children can’t consent, so their parents allowed this to happen, which also felt morally wrong to me. I didn’t want to make a rash decision so I tortured myself to watch it to its entirety and I feel nauseous. I was shocked to see that audiences were clapping while the Cuties group was performing, all actions that I mentioned previously as if it’s normal for some 11 year olds to do these.

This movie has TV-MA certification which means-”This program is intended to be viewed by mature, adult audiences and may be unsuitable for children under 17. Contains content that is unsuitable for children.” So you’re making a movie where some 11/12 year old girls are allowed to do suggestive sexual poses, and only adults can watch it? Why would you endanger children for adult entertainment? Aren’t we supposed to protect kids from harms?

The religious portrayal in this movie is not entirely accurate (I was born and raised as a Muslim) but the movie wanted to depict the underlying conservatism which are superstitious to some extent, and my 2-cents are concerned with these children so I don’t want to drag religion here. Trust me I wanted to make sense of this movie but I couldn’t. My heart broke seeing those girls doing shits like these. Unfollow me if you feel like I’m overreacting with this issue. I just couldn’t swallow it.

EDIT:

If you want to skip my long post, watch this instead. This youtuber articulated the issues thoroughly.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGITudIVBE8