#the slaughter bab

[mintpopz]

That scene in the first chicken run where babs says that she hasn't laid any eggs put the fucking fear in me I was yelling at my screen like DONT KILL BABS despite me knowing that Babs is alive in the fucking sequel 💀

[cybervigilante]

thinking about how bruce never accepted kory and was relieved that dick didn't end up marrying her :(

[cemetegee]

Dying as a Skill Issue

I just made a post about Ianthe's "Dying is for suckers." quote and now I realized that "Dying as a skill issue/dying as failure" is actually an essential part of her character.

In the psychogram story The Unwanted Guest she talks about it even more. She presents several deaths of known characters to Palamedes and tells him why they have died in her opinion:

Ortus did not die because Crux was an asshole and killed him, but because he was too sad.

Abigail did not die because Cytherea murdered them, but because she brought her husband to Canaan House as her cav. (This point is especially random. As if Cytherea wouldn't have slaughtered Babs as well...)

(It's by the way interesting that she doesn't mention Jeannemary and Isaac here. Maybe even she knows that that would be hella tasteless. Ooorrrr she has a different reason.)

Dying is for suckers in her opinion and dead people died because of a lack of skill.

That even partly explains why she wants to become a Lyctor (and likely a God or even more than a God) so much: Dying would be a personal failure to her.

[madcapberry]

i would love to know ur dickhelena thoughts that might be controversial actually… i recently finished a bunch of huntress reading so she’s been on my mind a lot

Idk maybe the most controversial thing is how much I care about the two of them as a pair. I think their friendship is more compelling than Dick and Babs as a relationship or Helena and Babs (whatever tf you’d call what they have going on). And I just wish that we’d gotten more of Dick and Helena together, I feel like their dynamic had so much meat to it. There was so much to dig into that was never full explored. And I think leaning into it would have been good for the development of BOTH of them as characters.

I’m not saying I think they should be a couple, but it makes me sad that nobody seems to care about them as a pair. There are so many Dick Grayson fans and I feel like a large portion of them barely know who Helena is. And Helena fans generally don’t seem to give a fuck about Dick (correct me if I’m wrong, that’s just based on my observations… also fair enough). But they make such interesting foils and you could do so many different stories with the two of them and their opposing viewpoints. And it’s always more interesting than pairing Helena up with Batman because Dick and Helena actually seem to care about each other on a human level and they have this unnamable tension between them that I think works so so so well.

The dynamic I’m talking about is pretty contained to the 90s through to 2011. Dick and Helena’s dynamic in Grayson is fun but it also feels like both of them (but especially Helena) are completely different characters there. And to be completely honest I don’t know a lot about what their relationship looks like since Rebirth.

What I wanted from them was for their relationship/friendship/working partnership to get the breathing room to stretch and grow. I wanted it to be painful and sweet and difficult. I wanted their chemistry, their similarities, and their camaraderie to MEAN SOMETHING!! And it was pushed aside by people like Chuck Dixon who were very very keen on pushing Dick and Barbara as a power couple (Nothing against Babs, I absolutely adore her. Really don’t like DickBabs tho) I also think a lot of writers at the time disliked Helena so they did their best to make it seem like she meant nothing to their precious Nightwing.

I think they work better as friends than as a couple. They’re both quite uncompromising characters with core values that don’t line up. It could be interesting to explore a romantic relationship between them, but anytime that’s been done it just feels… off to me. I don’t mind the sometimes sexual aspect of their relationship, it works for me sometimes, but at other times I do think it feels a little bit forced (Devin Grayson why is Helena randomly shoving her tongue down his throat). Anyway.

Dick can’t love certain parts of her, (her willingness to kill bad people). Helena can’t love certain parts of him (his rigidity, to put it lightly). And I think what they both need is a kind of freedom they’ll never be able to find in each other. It’s crazy because both of these characters have a sort of wild and free personality at times but neither of them are free. Helena is bound by the memory of the slaughter of her family, her old mob ties, her guilt, her compassion and hatred in equal measures, her religion, Batman and Gotham. Dick is bound by his love for Bruce, the shoes he has to fill, the version of himself he needs to live up to, the version of himself Bruce imagines is real, the weight of all the people who rely on him etc.

There’s this dedication and commitment and fervor at the core of both of them and they’re both orphans and they’ve both experienced so much violence and they both have a chip on their shoulder about Batman and yet they have so much to argue over it’s GREAT!!!!

Anyways love them a lot ok byeee!

[aliteralchicken]

The way that it’s canon that Babs, Cass, Bart, and Kon lectured Tim about being mean to Steph haunts me in the cringing sense. It sounds so Steph-Centric fanfic like but… it’s canon… (Why would Kon & Bart even care about Steph??? 😭)

I will always defend Megan Firzmartins work (with the exception of YJ:DC) because a lot of male writers have got a lot less shit for much worse writing, I defended this issue in particular when it first came out because 90% of the complaints I saw were people being mad that Stephanie wasn’t *being homophobic* towards him

listen I get why she did it, she got slaughtered by Steph fans and timsteph fans for breaking them up despite the fact that Tim and Steph have broken up many times before and had many other love interests

to be completely fair to her she wasn’t the one to change Steph’s personality, she just gave her the same personality ever other writer has been giving her in recent years, if she gave Steph a more classic Steph response of reacting with anger and jealously there would be people absolutely crying out about it

And I partly blame young justice 2019 for the young justice being Steph’s friends plotline, because there’s no reason Steph and Kon should be anything more than frenemies especially after the whole Superboy vs robin teen titans issue

but overall, I would’ve loved it if they allowed Steph to be pissed off like she would’ve been pre new 52, it adds conflict in the batfamily, gives her back personality flaws that were very interesting, it’s adds something to the story especially since Cass would have to pick a side

I would’ve loved to see bart and kon trying to be there for Tim because breaking up with his girlfriend, not talking to his family and joining a self harm cult in order to take it down is very concerning and he’s not exactly the face of mental health (side note I do actually quite enjoy how she writes Bart)

overall, everyone being so insistent Tim talk to his ex after their breakup, not on his own terms, without this being shown as a bad thing, is not what I wanted to read, especially given that Tim ends up forcing himself out of the closet as an explanation rather than doing it naturally, I would’ve much preferred him going to her, rather than everyone forcing her one him

[bitimdrake]

pssssst hey quick question on the dl - who is helena bartinelli??

i cannot answer anon questions on the dl, so answer on the up-high, which she deserves:

HUNTRESS

a.k.a. Helena Bertinelli, a.k.a. Gotham's coolest and most notable antihero, crossbow-wielder, and purple bat-associated vigilante.

Helena was born to an Italian mob family, but spent her childhood blissfully unaware of the family business--until her entire family was slaughtered in front of her when she was eight. She stayed with family overseas for the rest of her childhood, learning how to fight and protect herself.

She came back to Gotham for both vengeance and justice, and became one of Gotham's many vigilantes. Though her focus is on the mob, she'll step in to stop any crime.

She's also a schoolteacher! Good for her.

She is discerning in who she chooses to kill, but she does kill. As you can imagine, this put her at odds with Batman for a long time. Helena is pretty much the premiere example of Bruce trying to claim control over every vigilante in Gotham, no matter how little right he has. The argument on killing/ethics is valid, but his default was basically "do exactly what I say and fall in line under my command, or stop completely," which is why he's an asshole control freak and why I'm constantly mad about how she was treated 👍

She was an absolute mainstay of the Batfamily before Flashpoint (2011) and it is personally hurtful to me that people don't know her. (Like, to be frank? She had far more of a presence than Damian or (living) Jason in the post-crisis era.)

You could count on seeing her in any major Batfamily crossover, from Cataclysm to Battle for the Cowl.

She was central to the biggest Batfamily crossover ever, No Man's Land, where Gotham was locked off from the rest of the country and turned into a lawless wasteland. Bruce left to sulk for the first couple of months and in absence of any other vigilantes in the field (only Oracle having remained in the city), Helena donned the mantle of the Bat for herself to protect the city. And when Batman came back, in return for all she'd done, she got...yelled at, assigned impossible tasks and criticized for not achieving them, her costume stolen and given to someone else, lied to, abandoned in the face of impossible odds, and shot multiple times protecting kids. Absolute fucking hero, honestly.

She also was on the Justice League for a while, though admittedly I have barely touched that run. To my understanding, despite nominating her for the position, Bruce was also the one to revoke her membership there.

Fortunately! things improved!!

In the early/mid 2000s, Helena joined the Birds of Prey, Oracle's team, and found legit friendships and support there with teammates like Dinah Lance/Black Canary. She finally got more respect in the community, and had a much better time.

Additional relationships include:

A big sister/annoying little brother type thing with Tim, who may disapprove of her killing but simply likes making friends too much :)

A great relationship with Vic Sage/the Question

One single issue where she met Steph that presented SUCH interesting potential that I desperately wish had been followed up on

On and off romantic/sexual tension with Dick, depending on the writer, which culminated in a single hook up that apparently most people around here would rather pretend didn't happen, though I really don't think it's that bad

A complicated relationship with Barbara, partially due to clashing personalities and conflicting morals (with Babs being nearly as much of a control freak as Bruce), and partially due to a shared history with Dick because DC loves making women be catty

Surely others from her first solo or time on the JLA that I don't know well enough to list!

She's rad and determined and takes no shit but cares a lot, and I love her. We deserve more stories tying her teaching day job into her night work. We also deserve more stories with her in general.

If you would like additional Helena beyond just cruising my tag, I recommend:

Batman/Huntress: Cry for Blood - far more Huntress than Batman, this is a great 6-issue miniseries about Helena reckoning with her past, ft the Question.

Batman: No Man's Land - if you have the time for it, a big storyline but worth it.

Birds of Prey vol 1 (1999) - Helena starts to appear around issue #57 and becomes a central character from there.

[sadiehaleheart]

Bruce, Lan Clan heir and Lan Sect #1 disciple, losing his parents. and being hurled into the Burial Mounds. and learning to wield resentment! Within Rules! I'm definitely not picking a bat, tho, that's a homonym for happiness

Dickie, son of wandering cultivators: is this orthodoxy, or a butterfly? Proceeds to drive Lan Qiren NUTS

Jason, Nie Clan kiddo somehow lost in greater Yunmeng: this is terrible and I cannot punch my way out or can I 

Timbo, Jin (???) Clan: so, admittedly, I am rich as fuck. But my folks are awful, and I have taken my communication butterflies and talismans etc to the next level, and I am desperately aware the status quo is BAD and needs changing by, er, someone 

Babs, once Jiang/Jin and now returned to her mom's Meishan Yu sect: so technology CAN cure some of our problems. I shall be stabbing many of you ASAP. Or just as soon as these hyper-competent lesbians, with bird-themed titles, say I'm ready

Damien, half Wen: LEGACY MATTERS. also the xuanyu of slaughter is kind of cute FIGHT ME over my MURDER TURTLE

Anyway, the Untamed x Batman could be very very funny

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter Eight.

The people have spoken, so the story returns! :)

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,833

Warnings - 18+ only. Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

It was a curious sight to witness, watching the stillness of the vampire roused so much that she began to breathe again, her chest heaving under the cream silk of her blouse, her eyes shut as her jaw tightened and relaxed.  

“When I was taken, there was nothing stopping them from finding my vampire children, those whom I had made, who resided with me,” she began, feeling a maelstrom of rage and grief swirl within her. “As a mother of a born son, trust me when I tell you that the bond between creator and offspring is just as strong and loving for vampires as it would be between children and parents linked via traditional, human familial blood bonds.” 

The tension in the air seemed to thicken from Bryn’s grief, John resting his hand upon her leg, squeezing her thigh supportively. He didn’t say a word, but she felt it in his blood, him assuring her that she was fine because he was right there beside her.  

“Without me there to offer protection, they hunted them down and eventually captured all three before bringing them to where they held me,” she continued, her voice pinched with emotion. 

“I thought you said you had two offspring?” John asked softly, a frown denting his forehead. 

She swallowed hard. “I do, darling. Alexander and Joy were made what they are after I escaped, so that is not counting...” Closing her eyes, they appeared before her, the sanguine of her tears pooling as she opened her eyes, bright blue tinged red. “Counting those three they slaughtered before my very eyes, simply because they could. Peter, Marcheline and Lucious.  

“To even speak their names brings me the greatest pain. I was their mother, the one who gave to them their immortality, and the one who had to watch their demise while bound in silver, their limbs torn off, liquid silver poured down their throats before finally, being slowly impaled upon silver spikes and left to suffer, then staked through their hearts.  This is why I am alone; I cannot have my children close to me, lest risk them be taken and used to make me surrender, and I will die my final death before I let those men harm what is mine ever, ever again.”  

Tommy and John’s eyes widened, but truly, the one stirred heaviest was the one other woman within the room who understood the pain of having children ripped from her loving arms. Polly felt her heartstrings yanked at, to hear not only that Bryn lost them, but that they’d been tortured and murdered right in front of her. And she hadn’t been able to save them. From one bereft mother to another, she understood completely. 

Any stiffness melted as she exited her seat, walking around the table and crouching beside her, pulling Bryn into her arms as she cried softly. “I know, love. I know what it is, the pain you carry. I lost my babies, too. One returned, the other sadly passed, so I understand your pain in part. Doing what they did to them right in front of you, though?” Her jaw tightened, stroking her back and hair comfortingly. “Those fucking bastards.”  

“Now you understand fully, I hope,” she sniffed, emerging from Polly’s embrace, taking the handkerchief given with thanks as she dabbed at her face.  

“I do, I really bloody do, Brynhild. Come on, let’s get you straight. I’ve pan stick and powder you can redo your face with. Crying is bad enough, but crying blood is a right mess.”  

Bryn chuckled softly, sniffing as she nodded and composed herself, turning when John gently pulled her into a hug.  

“I’m so fucking sorry you went through that, bab. Go get yourself sorted, alright?”  

She nodded, kissing his cheek before Polly guided her through the house and up to her room so she could fix her face.  

“I didn’t think I’d ever see it, emotions so raw in a shadow walker,” Tommy stated, just as the front door opening signalled Arthur’s return. 

“She ain’t made of stone,” John said, shaking his head. “They feel things still. The older they get, the closer to their humanity they become again, as she told me.” His hand clenched into a fist, holding it against his mouth as his eyes narrowed. “If those fucking Rasmussen’s ever come near her, I’ll fucking do to them what they did to her bloody kids. I fucking swear I will.”  

“What did they do?” Arthur asked, seating himself again, reaching for the whiskey bottle. John’s explanation was paused by the reappearance of Polly and a freshly made-up Bryn, the former informing them that they would be up at The Garrison and to join them when they were ready.  

After their departure, John sat back and explained it all, watching his brother take it in, his eyes widening at various points.  

“Fucking hell,” Arthur sighed, running his hands over his hair. “No wonder then, that she sought us out to look after her when she’s asleep. A woman on her own like that, don’t matter does it, how strong she is. She’s vulnerable in the daytime. Poor bab, she’s had a bloody time of it, eh?”  

John was surprised to see Arthur soften his stance, but then again, he could never resist a damsel in distress. Even if by the fall of darkness, that damsel was the strongest apex predator on earth. “She ain’t like what we were told, or what we saw, is she?” 

“She can be,” John began, reaching for the whiskey glass Arthur slid across the table. He remembered back to the first night he’d met her, the way she’d so swiftly removed Samuel Rasmussen of his head. “When she has to be, she’s merciless. It’s how she was a human, too. A bloody Viking age Jarl, eventually, led men into battle, fought alongside ‘em. Never lost either. She was fucking hard as nails. As a vampire, she then spent hundreds of years being young and savage, but she ain’t like that no more. Not unless someone gives her reason to be.”  

“I bet you learned a whole lot over the last four days, didn’t you? With nowhere to go and not much to do,” Tommy then spoke.  

He didn’t notice it at first, the slight amusement in his voice, John looking up to catch Tommy’s expression. “Ahh, fuck off!”  

“So then,” he began, clearing his throat as a smile played his lips. “How was it?”  

John was somewhere between amusement at the curiosity within his second eldest brother’s face, and entertainment at the look of mild repulsion on Arthur’s. He might have softened a little to Bryn, but perhaps not so much that he could understand why John desired her as heavily as he did. Closing his eyes momentarily, the nights – and mornings - of heated ecstasy with his love flashed through his memories, a filthy chuckle filling the space as his grin widened. “Fang-tastic.” 

Tommy snorted a quiet laugh, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “Oh, god.” He’d asked, he supposed. Trust John to give such a reply. 

“You didn’t?” Arthur spat, straightening in his seat. “You let her bite you?” 

His grin carried with it all the smugness of a man who had experienced the best sex of his life, John reaching for his whiskey. “I did.” 

“And it didn’t hurt ya?” 

He shrugged nonchalantly, sipping his drink. “Stung a bit, but she was doing something else to me at the time that felt even better.”  

“Jesus wept!”  

Tommy and John exchanged glances, their laughter beginning to escalate at Arthur’s horror over the whole thing. “But... but she’s all cold! And dead!” 

“They warm up,” John revealed, snorting with laughter again. “And she wasn’t acting very dead from where I was sitting, I can tell you.”  

“That’s bloody disgusting, John boy!” 

He continued to revel in the reactions he was being met with. “Don’t be a prude, Arthur. I thought you were alright with her now?” 

“Yeah, I mean she seems alright, like. A nice lady, I suppose, but... no. I couldn’t. No. It ain’t natural.” 

“Sex is perhaps the most natural thing in the world, Arthur,” Tommy chimed, John raising an eyebrow. 

“She can hear every word you’re saying too, you know.” 

The eldest Shelby’s face was a picture of confusion. “How? She’s in the bloody Garrison!” 

“Bryn? Come here, love,” he spoke quietly, waiting. 

Two blinks passed, and suddenly there she stood. 

“Is everything well?” she asked, resting her hand to John’s shoulder.  

“Ar, just proving a point.” Taking her hand in his, he kissed her knuckles. “We’ll be along just now.” 

She smiled fondly at him, squeezing his fingers. “Okay, I shall wait.” Her eyes then moved to Arthur, her smile widening. “Every word.” With a wink, she was gone, Arthur feeling his cheeks tingle. They stayed only to work out the finer details of their new alliance, John of course pledging himself forward to be on the roster of protective presences at Georgian House.  

“I can't have you there all the time, John boy, but I do see the sense in it since you’re likely to be spending a lot more time in Little Aston,” Tommy began, lighting a cigarette. “You and Isiah, I’ll see if I can persuade Johnny Dogs to put his feelings aside and he can pair with you, Arthur. Then I’ll get Christopher and Mickey Two Suits on the third rotation.”  

The latter of the Peaky Blinders were relatively new members of the gang, men whose father’s had known the family well for years. “Fucks sake, don’t ever put me on with Two Suits, Tommy! He could talk the legs off a bloody chair, that lad.” Indeed, the man with the monicker that suggested such only owned two suits, as well as a predisposition for never shutting up. Ever. To coin him a chatterbox would have done a disservice to those who enjoyed the art of conversing.  

While the Shelby men were hashing out the finer details of their new bodyguarding enterprise, an entirely different crime family were gathering their own information. Information relating to the same woman.  

Patrick Rasmussen straightened the papers in his hands, reaching out to knock upon the office door before him.  

“Yes?” his father called from behind the heavy, oak door. Turning in his seat, he saw his now eldest son enter, who had been the second up until recently. Up until his beloved Samuel’s headless body had been found down in Birmingham.  

A tragic accident involving an out-of-control automobile, the police and coroner had chalked it up to. It was no such thing, and he knew it. Of course, those who has spun the lie happened to be on the payroll of the very criminal outfit that he, Edward Rasmussen, was attempting to prevent striking foot in the north. Edward was biding his time there, preparing to strike back against the Peaky Blinders when they least expected it. “Got anything for me, lad?” 

“Aye, I have, like.” Proffering the papers forth, he watched his father take his spectacles from his breast pocket, placing them on to read the information that had come from New York. “The house our fellas in Manhattan managed to track her to is still being heavily guarded. Couple of the Genovese family lads are out on the doors all day, heavily armed. The house in Cologne she was residing at for a brief period has sat empty since summer, and her flat in Moscow shows no signs of residence either. The guards there moved off the doors eight weeks ago.” 

“She’s moving around more,” Edward mumbled, looking at the photographs before him, reading the papers that tracked the movements of the vampire, the elusive woman who for centuries had appeared only to vanish again as his ancestors had hunted her. “Fucking clever lass. Never stays in one place for long. I’ll not be wanting a bloody war with the Sicilian lads either, and she fucking well knows it, she does.” 

His hand pounded the papers to the desk, his knuckles flexing as he rested a closed fist to his mouth, thinking.  

“What are you proposing, dad? You want us to go over there with a few lads, have a chat with the Genovese’s, offer ‘em more than what she’s paying to give her up? You could call ‘em now, like, couldn’t you?” 

Edward waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head. “I can’t do nothing tonight, son. My first priority is getting your mam up the church to see Samuel before the service come tomorrow.” As their Catholic faith dictated, Samuel’s body was welcomed into the church the night before his funeral, the Rasmussen’s all attending mass that evening. 

Open coffin funerals were not common in England, but Edward had paid the undertaker handsomely to prepare his son’s body to a fitting state, all so his mother could see her first born one last time. To say his beloved Kitty had howled with grief when he’d had to tell her the news would have been an understatement. To also deliver that three of her nephew's had perished too had not helped matters either.  

Leaving the office, the men moved downstairs to where their family sat in wait, ready to board the cars that would take them to Our Lady of Lima, ready to say goodbye to their precious Samuel. It burned through him again, the excuse given over his son’s demise as he took in his grief-stricken wife, Kitty pulling the elegant lace veil upon her hat down over her eyes.  

They were greeted by the priest upon arrival, condolences offered, a few other friends and family members within the walls of the holy building all giving the same.  

“Come on, pet,” Edward encouraged, his arm tightening around a distressed Kitty as he steered her down the aisle, “be strong for him now, eh love.” Seeing his son lying there, resplendent in his best suit, he felt his throat pinch tightly as Kitty collapsed at the edge of the coffin, her distressed cries echoing up through the high ceilings of the church. Her choked sobs sang a hymn of mourning for her first born, reaching to stroke his icy cheeks and well-groomed shock of black hair.  

“I love you, my Sammy. Oh, you have to know even in death how much mammy loves you.” Violence and bloodied endings were the way of their world, but it didn’t mean the wound of loss cut any shallower.  

As Kitty wept over her son’s cadaver, a million images of him as bonny little tot playing in her mind’s eye, Edward offered comfort, dabbing at the corners of his eyes with a handkerchief. The undertaker had done a fabulous job preparing his body, the stitching only just visible above Samuel’s collar where his head had been reattached. Reaching for the well-starched white cotton, he made a move to pull it up a little further, and it was then that he saw the distinctive marks there just below the stitches.  

Puncture wounds.  

At just over an inch apart, there was only one creature on earth capable of inflicting such; the very creature he would hunt until his dying breath. His mind worked overtime as he escorted Kitty to a pew, sitting down, his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she composed herself. Could it truly be her? For centuries, Brynhild had aligned herself with those of wealth and power for protection, kings, lords, gangsters. Who was to say that she would not do the same with his other arch nemeses?  

“Aye, looks like we’re in for another downpour, dad,” Patrick spoke to him as they exited the church after mass, pulling on his gloves as the snow tumbled thick from the northern sky. The roads had only just become drivable again that morning.  

Edward lifted his chin, watching the sky as it became littered by a flurry of white, his jaw tensing. “As soon as it clears, we put eyes on the Blinders. I just saw something on your brother’s neck that leads me to believe that Brynhild is in league with ‘em. But if it’s not her, I want it hunted and eradicated all the same.”  

Pulling his cigarette case out, he screwed one between his lips, leaning toward the light his son offered. “We will rid the people of this nation of the scourge that is vampires, lad. If I promise you nothing else, then I promise you that.” 

Meanwhile in Birmingham, where the snow had also begun to fall thickly again, the number one enemy of the Rasmussen’s was safely behind the walls of her opulent home with a fever of heat building at her apex. With her legs over his shoulders as he knelt before the settee, John watched her falling apart, the honey of her cunt saturating his thirsty tongue as he laved at her.  

Her hands went to his hair, combing through, fisting at the roots as her hips rose, a long sigh of gratification leaving her mouth as his sucked on her hungrily. She rocked against each burning lick, her clit pebbling as it was bathed in long, firm sweeps. The heat of his mouth drove cool fire through her veins, glimmers tingling up her spine as she cried out. 

His breath fluttered hot over her folds, John looking up at her with a wink as his hands teased goose bumps to prickle her thighs, Bryn utterly revelling in the heaven he conjured upon her with his mouth. 

“God, you taste almost as beautiful as you fucking look, sweetheart.” he rasped, voice deepened by lust, tongue flickering in a quick, firm beat over her clit. 

The pleasure took its root deep in her core, beginning to ascend like a creeping vine, her thighs shaking, torrid waves washing over her as she throbbed. Her arousal became edged in a little pain as she felt her walls widening, slick and ready for him, her breaths ragged. 

Emerging from between her legs, their combined effort pulled him from his clothes with the same haste he’d stripped hers with upon arriving back, John yanking her from the settee into his arms, moving to lay her upon the rug. He slid against the velvet of her folds, entering her fluidly, her legs bracketing his hips as they shared kisses full of sugary sin.  

He was immediately urgent and overwhelming within her, cock dragging her slick with heavy, rolling thrusts, the thick of his hardness making her simmer. Her veins flooded with biting, nerve ending sizzling pleasure, his teeth clamping upon her nipples in turn before his mouth found hers once more. 

“How dare you,” she panted, nuzzling him. He looked down at her in puzzlement, Bryn continuing as she stroked his handsome face. “How dare you be the first man in centuries to capture my heart as much as you have, John Shelby.”  

His smile broadened, kissing her softly. “All part of me charm.” She chuckled, and he kissed her again, looking into the glacial blue of her eyes, overcome by her entirely. “I didn’t know what love was, until I found you.”  

Bryn felt every last drop of that love in his kisses, the way his blood flared within her veins, clutching his body tightly as it moved in effortless sync with hers. There he was at last, the man she’d walked the earth for centuries in hopes to find, someone who was all hers, someone to take away the loneliness she’d felt without her offspring near to her.  

There he was.  

The gentleness in him subsided quickly, sensing her need, fury and instinct overtaking anything that bordered on contained. His own unrelenting desire to fuck her voraciously dragged him headlong into mindlessness, her nails tearing down his back, his teeth sharp at her throat in retaliation, eyes inky and pupils blown as he looked down at her.  

He filled her again and again in a greedy, pounding rhythm, her mouth dropped open, crying out with every pant. Sitting back on his heels, he pushed her legs apart, spreading her, watching the gloss of her arousal twinkling in the firelight upon his cock as he fucked her hard. 

Her body lurched with every determined daggering of his hips against hers, cock arrowing her keenly, her cunt glimmering as he drove skitters of caustic pleasure through her, his groans deep and soaked in lust. The little switches around his shaft had the coil within him tightening sharply, a blade of ecstasy cutting through him right to his very marrow. She was a molten, slick mess around him, the sound of his driving into the clutch of her cunt so savagely, the obscene noise of their fuck filled the room.  

Her shuddering body, jerking as her muscles corded and twitched beneath her tattooed skin was a feast for his eyes, pouring pleasure into her with boundless determination, leaning to kiss her with filthy indulgence. He locked his arms around her, pulling her up, holding her tightly to him as he bounced her on his cock, scattering kisses at her neck as he panted words of love.  

She felt delirious, those extra few inches of thick hardness speared into her, her nails dragging over his shoulders, her head thrown back as he bit crescents onto her neck, sucking welts, hands running up her back and grasping her shoulders. Pulling her down onto him further, until she was entirely full, his ears tingled with the screams of her ecstasy. To John, there was no sweeter sound in the world. 

The silken, slick throb of her walls in spasm around him began to pull it from him, a crest so acerbic he could barely hang onto it, the wild coursing of release. His chest heaved as he panted raggedly, Bryn feeling the glimmers streak through her like a hail of comets, pressed to him so tightly her clit rubbed deliciously against his pubic bone, that friction sending her further into the relentless abyss, her shattering closer, closer, closer… 

“Oh!” And there it was, the crest that rolled up like a dark wave, knocking her sideways, his teeth crushing her neck as he growled with each fervid twitch of his cock releasing into her, her nails removing his back of a layer of skin. It fizzed through them, right to their bones.  

The comedown was sweet and swirling, their bodies slowing to stop as they fought for air, Bryn resting her forehead to his as her breathing stilled to nothing once more, her fingertips stroking his face.   

“My love,” she purred, offering soft kisses, nuzzling him, her walls still fluttering pleasantly around his cock. “How well you always fuck me.” 

His grin broadened, as she knew it would. “I plan on doing it a few more times tonight an’ all.”  

She was always fond of such a pledge, even more so when he lived up to it until three o’ clock in the morning.  

[soylent-crocodile]

Onerous Aspic (Monster)

(Yule Ooze by Steve Prescott)

(Oozes are real weird to balance. Just as written, they simply lack stuff like saves and AC. I think I did this one well enough though. Anyway, who loves food crimes?)

CR7 TN Huge Ooze

Long thought to be a joke, an edible ooze, the onerous aspic is unfortunately all too real. Rumored to be created by a mad cannibal-alchemist, or even the archfiend Gorgaleth himself, the onerous aspic devours all animals in its path, paralyzing those too big and preserving their bodies perfectly in a process that turns themselves into a perfect treat for a massive dragon or a wealthy cannibal feast. Onerous aspics are often made by such creatures with the intent of doing just that- letting them collect prey for eventual slaughter. A few crafty necromancers, however, have learned to use them as walking larders, as any animal contained within the aspic is perfectly preserved.

In combat, onerous aspics particularly tend towards the largest and meatiest animal they can, otherwise simply wandering forward into battle.

This brown-yellow jelly slithers forward, small animals and unfortunate adventurers perfectly preserved within it, their faces frozen in fear.

Misc- CR7 TN Huge Ooze HD10 Init:-4 Perception:-5, Blindsight 100ft Stats- Str:22(+6) Dex:2(-4) Con:26(+8) Int:-(-5) Wis:1(-5) Cha:1(-5) BAB:+7/+2 Space:15ft Reach:5ft Defense- HP:125 (10d8+70) AC:14 (-4 Dex, -2 Size, +10 Deflection) Fort:+11 Ref:-1 Will:-2 CMD:21 Immune: Ooze traits, mind-affecting effects, cold Special Defenses: DR 10/Slashing or Bludgeoning, Preservatives Offense- Slam +12(2d6+6 plus distraction) CMB:+15 Speed:40ft Engulf (DC17, 3d6 bludgeoning) Distraction (DC22) Special Qualities- Mindless, Cooking Ecology- Environment- Urban, Underground Languages- None Organization- Solitary Treasure- None Special Abilities- Preservatives (Su)- An onerous aspic gets a +10 magical deflection bonus to AC. Additionally, all organisms killed by its engulf ability are perfectly preserved as long as they remain in the ooze. Cooking (Ex)- Fire damage that would be dealt to an onerous aspic is instead dealt to any creatures inside it. Dead bodies within the aspic that take more than 10 fire damage are no longer perfectly preserved for the purposes of necromancy or reviving, but are fully cooked.

[girlactionfigure]

*ISRAEL REALTIME* - "Connecting the World to Israel in Realtime"

HAPPY CHANUKAH !!! Chanukah night 7 TONIGHT 🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎

◾️MORE SHIP ATTACKS BY THE HOUTHIS… a Marshall islands-flagged chemical tanker reported an "exchange of fire" with a speedboat 55 nautical miles (around 102 kilometres) off Yemen.  A speedboat with armed men aboard approached two vessels transiting off the coast of Yemen's Red Sea port of Hodeidah.  (AP) the Houthis launched two missiles at a commercial ship in the Bab al-Mandab Strait but missed, according to US officials. An American vessel intercepted another drone launched by the Houthis. (The ship that the Houthis tried to hit is the Ardmore Encounter tanker that carries the flag of the Marshall Islands.

Also reports of a shipping attack on the other Yemen coast near Oman.  Quickly becoming a major disruption to world shipping.

◾️THE TOLL… we previously reported on 8 lost in battle, two more are reported killed yesterday as well - the worst day since the first day of the war.  https://www.timesofisrael.com/ten-soldiers-including-two-senior-officers-killed-in-gaza-fighting-and-deadly-ambush/

◾️JENIN… (Arab city, West Bank, terror center)  Firefights with IDF forces still going on, day and half continuous.

◾️FALSE ALERT - MODI’IN MACCABIM REUT… siren alert malfunction.  Homefront Command is working to fix.

◾️INCREASING RESERVE AGE… the Ministry of Defense distributed a memorandum of law to increase the exemption age from reserve service to be raised in order to prevent damage to the IDF's combat capability in the midst of war. According to the plan, the exemption age will be increased by one year for regular soldiers, officers and certain positions. 

◾️GAZA, WEAPONS EVERYWHERE (no innocent / civilian spaces)… Lt. Col. Oz, Nahal's 931st Brigade: We entered about 500 houses in Jabaliya. In 90% of them we found weapons, inside wardrobes, in the kitchen, in UNWRA sacks and under babies' beds. There were grenades, weapons, guns, rifles, RPGs and many other weapons.  We arrived at the mosque, which apparently looked innocent. When we broke the door on the third floor, we were surprised to discover an advanced combat space there: they built a training facility there, like we train in the bases, they managed to build it in the mosque! We killed more than ten terrorists there.

◾️SOLDIERS MOTHER’S SAY… ( https://m.facebook.com/Mothers.Soldier ) "Our sons in battle, not Biden's son or Blinken's son - our soldier's life comes before the enemy's citizens.”  Ilanit Dedosh, mother of a commander in Golani "Don't be influenced by foreign considerations - bomb from above.” 

“We are in the most just war, against a cruel enemy who slaughtered, raped, massacred babies, women and hundreds of our brothers and sisters. We must trample him, and kill them to the last - and not stop until victory! We call on the IDF and the government - do not endanger our soldiers without a real operational need, do not put before your eyes any other consideration, not legal, not humanitarian or international pressure, Our sons are the ones in battle, not Biden's son nor Blinken's son, tell everyone in a clear voice - the lives of our soldiers come before the citizens of the enemy. We as mothers will not accept any risk to our soldiers that is not from operational considerations only. Loving, trusting, and strong - we are behind you! Fight until victory!" added the mothers.  “You promised that you would not surrender and that you would not change the plan of action, do not endanger fighters in vain!”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

bad ending!reader meets the white cat? it's been a while, they've settled into their routine as a specimen by now, but the cat reminds them of their humanity and acts as kind of a respite from all the axe murder

"So the darkness has consumed you..but what is darkness if not a long tunnel leading towards the light?"

"Poetic as ever, aren't we?" You sneered down at the pinkish white cat in front of you, hands curled tightly around the handle of your axe.

It was the very same weapon you used not only to break down boarded-up doors throughout the mansion, but also to put an end to Specimen 9's madness in the final room.

However, its usage didn't stop there.

Long before encountering that red fleshy monster, you've acquired the axe back in Specimen 8's section, using it for self-defense against the other specimen who relentlessly chased you down the halls.

It's what any sane person would do in a horror setting if they were given the means to fight back.

But the more time you've spent with it in your possession...something happened.

When a random Specimen 1 popped out at you after just barely escaping Ben with your life, you took all your frustration out on it as you swung the axe several times until it fell off the wall. You were sick of its stupid smiling face mocking your torment.

It may have been the most "passive" specimen, but it sure as hell was the most annoying, too.

And seeing the cardboard remains scattered around your feet brought a smile of relief to your face, before you carried on.

Later, when Specimen 2 showed his face once again, you immediately turned around and plunged the blade into his neck, effectively slicing his body in half after a bit of struggle. Although he could reform himself easily, it bought you enough time to flee to the next room.

He hasn't chased you since.

You didn't know if Spooky placed some enchanted curse on this axe or what, but one thing became very clear to you:

It's that you started to enjoy using it, as though it was meant for you to take all along...and not the hunter or any other victim from before.

You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't feel some degree of euphoria from slaughtering all those unusually violent deer like the savage animals they were.

How could Deer Lord reprimand you for harming his "children"? They were the ones who attack first! They provoked you! It was all just self-defense!!

Of course, you were wise enough to not swing it at everything and everyone to conserve your stamina...although the rage you felt whenever a specimen dared to come near you gave you all the adrenaline you needed to push on.

Even Babs--who couldn't be harmed by your blade--looked shocked when you charged at her and tried taking her down anyways, ignoring the hallucinations she was inflicting on your psyche.

She wondered why they weren't as effective on you as before..but you escaped her clutches once again.

The further you ventured beneath the mansion, the more belligerent you became, having finally lost it once you reached the thousandth room..

Only to be met with the false hope of escape, with Spooky officially introducing you to your final test:

Specimen 9, aka the Taker, who was dead set on not letting you leave here alive.

But the fight was mostly a blur. You barely registered the fireballs that seared your skin, the screaming pillars of his past victims' spirits, and the shadowy hands that tried dragging you under.

All you could remember was how you knocked him out of the sky, before hacking his body to pieces with a maniacal smile on your face, his blood splattering on every square inch of you.

The fun only ended after Spooky was forced to step in and take him away from you. He was still a specimen being studied, after all, so he had to be preserved.

But she wasn't mad at you one bit....far from that, in fact.

If anything, she was very impressed with how you've swung your axe around, both recklessly and with unmatched cruelty. She could see that you certainly weren't some boring ol' human looking to expose her mansion's secrets. Oh no.

This place has brought out your true nature, making you give into your instincts to kill, keep killing, and kill a little bit more....and overkill.

None of this, she observed, was out of survival anymore. You were simply sadistic now.

Spooky liked that, and so she offered you a place in the mansion as a specimen yourself. She remarked that everybody likes the "survivor turns into a monster" trope...and thinks you'll fit the role quite well.

Thus, you were designated as Specimen 14: The Axe Wielder.

You've lost track of time the moment you entered the mansion, but you've become very well-adjusted to your routine here. All you did was roam the underground maze and target any visitors under the guise of being a lost person yourself, luring them into a false sense of security...like you once have.

Your total fatality count was wracking up numbers quite fast.

As for the other specimen, well, they've seem to have forgiven and forgotten any of your past transgressions against them...although it's probably just because Spooky told them to. But regardless, you struck up some friendships with them fast.

But one day while you were aimlessly wandering, you winded up way back in one of Specimen 7's rooms...reencountering that stupid cat who tried acting like your therapist.

You never trusted her. How could you trust anything here in this hellish place?

"Tell me..what are you really?" You stared down at the feline, who swished her tail as the grandfather clock kept annoyingly ticking in the background. "Are you Spooky's dead cat?"

"I am the antithesis of the evil that dwells here. The guiding light in the darkest shadows. It's not too late to help you, but first you have to- "

"What good is your advice if I'm already gone?" Sneering, you readied your axe, growing more enraged by the second. "You deceived me..just like she did! You didn't tell me about Taker, or..or anything! So WHY would I listen to you?!!"

"...because I still see hope in you, Specimen 14." She spoke calmly, her optimistic tone not wavering a bit. "Or should I say...[y/n]."

For a moment, you tensed up, recollection flashing in your mind. You didn't know how she knew that name, but it meant nothing to you now.

"That name is dead to me....and so are YOU!!!" With a yell, you brought the blade down on her head--

But she vanished into thin air.

"Where are you?!" You snapped, eyes glowing red with fury as you searched the room, tearing open the nearest door in an attempt to find her.

However, you were greeted by a quaint office-like space. It looked quite cozy, with motivational posters plastered on the walls, wooden shelves lined with books and soft plushies, and a comfy couch right there in the middle of it all.

This was new. You've never seen this room before.

The little white cat was on the furniture, sitting like a loaf of bread with that pure smile adorning her face. "Come sit, why don't you? We both ought to be comfortable. A little respite is good for the mind, body, and soul."

You said nothing to that, but after a few long moments of hesitance...your legs started moving on their own. The axe's blade scraped the ground as you dragged it behind you, although she didn't seem bothered too much by the awful noise it made.

And you sat as far away from her as you could.

For about a minute or so, there was nothing but silence...save for the gently ticking clock from faraway. The axe's handle was still gripped tightly in your hand, as though it was attached to your own limb.

Then the white cat spoke up. "See? Isn't this much better than all the running around and endangering others surrounding you?"

"...for the record, they endangered me first." You corrected. "So let's get that straight. But...I'll admit my legs have been killing me lately.."

"So you do feel exhaustion and pain, that's good! Both of those and more are all of the human qualities tucked away within you." She chirped. "They're not gone, but simply asleep."

"........"

"This house of horrors has taken many things away from people, but the one thing it can't take from you is-"

"You don't even know half the horror I went through.." You growled. "Have you been to any room beyond the 400s? I don't think so...so just stop it. Whatever you're trying to do here isn't helping as much as you think it is. Maybe it could have before, but you're too late."

For once, she stayed silent, instead looking the other way and smiling at the poster.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and tried taking some deep breaths to calm yourself down.

It felt..strange not to be killing or breaking anything for once. For some reason you just didn't...feel like doing any of that right now.

This room was probably having another weird effect on you.

Then you suddenly felt the cushions shift in pressure and quickly looked over at the cat. She was standing up now, slowly creeping over to you. "What are you doing?" You eyed her warily. "Don't come near-"

However, you paused when she climbed into your lap and curled up right there and then. Then she gazed up at you, tilting her head in a cutesy way.

She was purring, too.

'Damn it...' As the glow faded from your eyes, you stared down at her for a few long seconds, before a bloodied hand came to rest on her back. Then you gently stroked her fur, hearing her purrs increase in volume.

It didn't take long for you to finally relax, letting go of the deathgrip you've kept on the axe since the moment you obtained it. You let it rest against the furniture--still in your sights, but no longer in your clutches.

Maybe you could stay here for a while.

[mangaka-devotee]

"What about her tale?"

Well allow me tell you...When she was a small child our heroine remembered having a lovely family. Her father a tifling, her mother a drow, and the there was herself and her baby brother both tiflings that each inherited their own pick of genes from thier mother.

It was a good and happy life, her father was a kind, gentle man, whom work round the village to aid everyone and earn for the family, While her mother sorceress a strong and brilliant, her little brother was just a tot at the time, a bubbly little bab she adore entirely...in truth she adored all her family. But alsa she did not have them for long for at age six then came..."The Raid"...

She couldn't remember what she been doing before she heard the screams and destruction, and seen all the fire and soilders destroying her home. She been terrified everything's was a blur she couldn't tell you how she survived the ordeal at such a small size.

She only rembers a brief black moment before finding her self curled the ash and rubble. Right when the beastly party had had all taken thier fill of the slaughter and chaos. All she could hear was the fire that was lift...she didn't know what to do but she was so so tired. Her little body had some how willed it self back to her bead at homewith her parents,through the rubble and smoke hardly aware of the death that surrounded her...no matter how near.

[arterartthings]

My Bab fun sheet

Some notes about Barbara’s abilities

Small backstory of Barbara:

Barbara Strawberry is a teenager from Ashland in Pennsylvania. She became what is now known as Specimen 5 after being kidnapped by a mysterious cult and sacrificed to entity known as The Mother. The Mother, realizing that her Followers gave her a child ‚tainted’ by the Leader, pitied her. Barbara’s body encased in clay was reanimated by Mother and slaughtered the insencere cult members. Barbara’s soul remained dorment in in her own body for decades, until one day a mysterious person appeared in House on The Hill. Just after few hours from chasing the mysterious explorer, Barbara was resurrected as herself from before the ritual. Barbara remembers nothing from the day of the ritual sacrifice (which is for the better).

With almost everyone she knew from school being adults and indeterminate state of her real family, Barbara decided to stay in the house among other monstrous residents who still recognize her as one of them and Zachary Gāng, the host of Specimen 12 who is in similar situation as the girl, taking on the responsibility of being her guardian figure.

⭐️Barbara Fun Facts⭐️

Originally, Barbara was a rip off of Oka Ruto from Yandere Simulator (I created her around 2016-17, long before the shit plumeted)

Originally, Barbara had skills of summoning demons from Goetia and that was ther reason the cult kidnapped her. Obviously, that got scrapped later on in my life

She loves collecting 80’s tech, victorian era china and overall etheric/astrology decor

She’s 1/4 American, 1/4 German and 1/2 Korean

She has a younger brother

Her favorite dish is Ramen with wontons and kimchi (her mother’s invention)

[tacticalhimbo]

— 10 Fandoms, 10 Characters, 10 Mutuals

@perpetuagf tagged me in this and i am OBSESSED, tyvm for tagging me babs <3

apologies in advance if anybody gets a repeat tag in this!

@carlosoliveiraa | @alexxmason | @captastra | @bbrocklesnar | @vendettapandav | @kourumi | @scarfacemarston | @captain-radioactive-mentality | @ollierachnid | @theavaricesystem

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

AIDEN PEARCE | WATCH DOGS; this man embodies older brother rage and it resonates so hard. like. the protectiveness over his remaining family. the fact he acknowledges (even if a bit harshly at times) that he is a bad guy. the fact he thinks he is utterly irredeemable… obsessed with him and his funky sense of fashion

APOLLYON | FOR HONOR; bastard woman. but i love her for it. her backstory doesn't get a lot of mention and i constantly think about how being a child when her family and such was slaughtered, and to have seen how the man who swore to protect them simply turned his back… i just. the way she's grown into someone who is willing to maintain the presence and intensity of war just to showcase its brutality. the way she took said man's armor and forged it to be her own. her brain!!! she is evil and i support women's wrongs o7

ARCADE GANNON | FALLOUT; the original "just like me fr" character, and one of the first canonically queer characters i had exposure to. my favorite companion always. his personality? incredible. his backstory? tragic. his humor? dry and awful, but i still love it and love him

DR. VIKTOR VEKTOR | CYBERPUNK; literally the character with the most transmasc swag i think i have ever witnessed in a game. like. genuinely. this man is trans to me and i am just so head over heels for this old man and his humor and his genuine care for those within his circle

ELSA WOLCOTT | WILSON'S HEART VR; underrated game and underrated character. genuinely. she is such a good character. i love the whole "parent who will do anything and everything for their child" trope (see: my inclusion of sam fisher and, by extension, aiden pearce). but like genuinely, elsa is such a tragic character when you look past the humor of the plot (re: the game being a mish-mash of horror tropes). i wish she coulda had a redemption arc q0q

MAJOR JACK KRAUSER | RESIDENT EVIL; bastard man. but i love him for it. the dynamic he has with leon (aka his obsession over his former ally) is so… man!!!! he also has transmasc energy and i really don't know how to explain it. he just. does

OBI-WAN KENOBI | STAR WARS; my first fictional crush fr, but also he is just. the character ever. the things he's been through, the way he uses them to better himself. the way he tries so hard to be a good man for everyone around him… obsessed

PUNISHED "VENOM" SNAKE | METAL GEAR; i am so normal about this man (lie) and the fact that he is a shell of his former self that has been molded to fit another's perfect image in an attempt to achieve a greater cause (one that would inevitably become corrupted and lead to his own death) and i just. mm. obsessed again

SAM BECKER | FAR CRY; underrated fave. i love sam's bombastic personality and how it stems from the fact that, after facing tragedy and having to adapt a role that makes him complicit in shit, he finally feels hope at things getting better (at least that's how i see it). he is my tragic little meow meow and i am still so sad about his death. i literally know it happens and every time i play the game i start getting so :((((

SAM FISHER | SPLINTER CELL; i discovered him while playing ghost recon and then he single-handedly shot me into the splinter cell series and now i am rotating him in my brain always. his character arc is one of my favorites, and a scene that always plays in my head is the one in conviction when he finds out the truth about his daughter's disappearance like. ugh!! plus i just love very involved and protective father figure characters (if you haven't noticed the trend on this list. and if you did? shush <;3)

[the-coiner-prince]

Tw // blood , knife , violence

Slaughtesque

[ slaught(er) + esque ~~ slaughtesque ]

A gender connected / related to or described as The Slaughter , from The Magnus Archives . The fear of brutal grotesque violence , of anger and hatred consuming oneself motivating acts of extreme violence .

[ flag ID : a rectangular flag with nine horizontal stripes , the colours from top to bottom are : black , light gray , blood red , dark red , red , dark red , blood red , light gray , and black . in the center of the first flag there's a bloody knife . end ID ]

~ day four of @transolar #apocalcoining event ~~ Destruction

Coined by the prince 👑

[ PT : Anyone can use the terms that the charming has coined , but ke asks to Please DNI if any of these aply to you: racist, sexist, ageist, antimogai, antiliom, BaB, ableist, transmed, transcum, fujoshi, radfem, terf, proshipper, anti-agere, antifurry, NSFW blogs, (NO)MAP, zoophile, necrophiliac, incestuous or supporter of those who act on these types of paraphilias. end PT ]

[croc-odette]

akiva goldsman did an interview about the snw season 2 finale where he was like yeah the gorn just represent pure evil monsters because sure there's kindness in the world but there's also monsters :) because declaring an entire species to be so 'monstrous' and evil that we are free to slaughter their children without remorse is sooo much better of a story than the one TOS did with the gorn, right? -_-

it's also like we know you think the gorn are evil violent monsters that must be destroyed despite the starfleet's chickenshit policy that living beings should be 'understood'.... because you've done this episode like 4 times already! we get it! it was boring the first time. the people who are like 'well maybe it's building up to the eventual conclusion that the gorn are kind-of sort-of intelligent sentient beings and we shouldn't just gleefully kill off their babies' and i'm like.... at this rate they will establish the plot of an already-existing 50 min episode over several episodes over 4 YEARS!

Darren Mooney excerpts:

“I’d appreciate another chance to study them up close,” Sam Kirk tells Pike in the mission briefing. “With a phaser?” Noonien-Singh inquires. “How else will we determine how best to kill them?” answers Kirk, who is the ship’s xenoanthropologist. “I would like to aid in that study,” adds Joseph M’Benga (Babs Olusanmokun), the ships’ doctor. Pike then instructs the crew to arm themselves, as Nami Melumad’s score hits the classic Star Trek fanfare.

There is no discomfort or unease here, as the crew load up with what Lieutenant Erica Ortegas (Melissa Navia) describes as “super cool toys.” There is no hesitation when Noonien-Singh ambushes “a Gorn youngling” in the street, effectively executing a child. It’s all played as thrilling spectacle. After all, the sequence of Ortegas piloting the shuttle into the atmosphere of Parnassus Beta, dipping below the treeline before recovering, was the big opening beat in the season’s trailer. It’s visceral and exciting.

Despite its obvious nostalgia for the Star Trek of the 1990s, the pop culture of “the end of history,” and “the unipolar moment,” “Hegemony” suggests that Strange New Worlds is still a product of the War on Terror that has shaped every Star Trek since Enterprise. It might hide that sensibility beneath a polished nostalgic exterior, but it is still there. Indeed, Spock’s (Ethan Peck) flight through the debris field consciously evokes a similar sequence in the War-on-Terror-adjacent Star Trek Into Darkness.