#tw man made horrors beyond our comprehension

[azrael-5]

I was googling pictures of Rory Culkin (for drawing references) and fucking

This monstrosity came up on my screen

[doorrobloxstuff]

Out of curiosity. What happens if a human is bearing a entity's child? Would it take a massive toll on the human or would it be like a normal pregnancy. And also the reverse where a entity is bearing a human child, which would probably never happen.

Tw//pregnancy + gore ment (what is up with this blog)

I never say never tbh. Let’s have fun! The narrative can be serious and concurrent while still being crazy.

SPECULATION BECAUSE AS OF CURRENT THERE ARENT ANY HYBRIDS BORN VIA NATURAL MEANS!!

Three things come to mind:

Nothing, because an entity has to want a child in order to conceive one. No accidents here.

A strange trip to planned parenthood (if they’re informed of the danger)

(If they choose to keep it, what will likely happen) a death sentence as the months go on.

If they have sufficient knowledge of ancient history + the occult, they could keep their unholy spawn alive.

Not pretty, an entity x human pregnancy, while possible doesn’t mean it’s a very good idea. I think I mentioned it before, but Jeff’s relatives married/started families w/humans millions of years ago

He sees them as kin so he absolutely abhors and condemns the idea of killing them.

But those humans were built different (and they HAD help btw- like help from the entitie’s communities with access to like..even though it’s herbs and a village midwife + rituals every other week make sure the baby doesn’t eat ur body/your life force.

Baby entities in utero are like parasites to the one who carries them. Sapping energy over time from its parent (and they have..LITTERS). Since entities are (mostly) MADE from energy, magic, whatever you call it this can literally kill them.

little guys will prioritize their own existence over their parent. Luckily death is avoidable as long as the entity eats and maintains a healthy amount of energy.

Humans aren’t made out of energy. We’re made out of flesh, and blood. We have little of what the entities have and it mostly makes up our souls. So they’d probably fuck up the average modern joe schmoe. Hollow eyes sockets, weak fingernails, tired voice, bruising, maybe a bit of rotten flesh, a walking zombie. It’s its own little bag of body horror. Probably kill the parent (and by proxy, the still developing child) in as little as a month or two.

Idk who’d wanna put themselves through that-

And who’s to say that the fucked up offspring would survive that? Since entities will just straight up die young for absolutely no reason. The dental, physiological, corneal, bone, issues must be absolutely insane. Maybe human parts would slowly, surely slough off revealing the entity beneath.

Hybrids ARE possible though. They’d just be faces only a mother could love. Mandela catalog stretched face lookin headass. The literal antichrist to humans but same shit different day to entities. Stretched out eyes (or lack thereof) elongated mouths, fucked up lookin teeth if the human genes are dominant.

Actually it occurs to me a AMAB person getting with an entity would probably be a healthier pairing- because the entity could definitely take it. They’re absolutely tanks after all.

This isn’t the only way to make a “hybrid” though. Figure is Rueben’s bio kid- though Rue had to do some fucked up shit to himself to get Figure to exist.

Some occult knowledge kinda shit that he’s not too keen on talking about and maybe some man made horrors beyond our comprehension- OH HEY BABY ENTITY YIPEE!!

..

Figure was worth it in his eyes.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-anxiety]

Pact read: https://pactwebserial.wordpress.com/category/story/arc-1-bonds/

It is very fun and I love it a lot! Much horror, much theme, again, reasons I am going to be very not ok as 2 people read it and i re-read. I can't describe it without losing my mind and spoilering literally everything so please know that upon second read I love damn near every character and it feels like this is the kind of world I would be setting up shop in if I could.

The tldr of SCP is essentially a big organization the Foundation (Motto: "Secure. Contain. Protect.") which is attempting to keep the human race and the universe at large safe while understanding the anomalous. Catalogued 'anomalies' (things/beings which are magical, scientific in a matter beyond our understanding, or any other kind of abnormal) are known as an scp/skip (Or SCP-[IDENTIFICATION NUMBER]). Within the Foundation are the anomalies being contained, Doctors and Researchers studying the anomalies (Kondraki and Clef are 2 doctors Ben and I are obsessed with, very fun), various field agents (used to find, retrieve, and explore anomalies) and Mobile Task Forces (agent squads specializing in an environment or type of anomaly), D-class (prison labor (complicated-ass thing in canons)), and various departments and laboratories. Essentially the whole thing is a decades-long 'Yes And' project across the internet with a 'Scary organization and scary monsters' premise (I say this with love btw).

The initial Main canon is where most people start. There are multiple canons with the Foundation as it is, and many more as it isn't, with at least one Wild West and one Fantasy, and lolFoundation (basically just crack comedy). Also my all-time favorite: The Shark-Punching-Center (They punch sharks. In the face. I don't support shark-punching but their recruitment speech is so funny that I'm trying to screenprint it on a tshirt).

For SCP here's the intro page: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/guide-for-newcomers

Here's the intro to reading: https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/guide-for-reading

Personal recommendations: SCP 3004 is a lovely long-time favorite of mine, as is Alagadda (search it and find wonder). 106 is the long-standing traditional boogy-man, and 682 is by the same author and classic. 173 is the og (literally the first one), 408 is Kondraki's butterflies and we love them very much, 507 is a pretty fun dude with a cool file, but I really do recommend just going in there blind, picking a Series (basically split up 0-999, 1000-1999 etc), finding a title that looks interesting, and then clicking on tags (eg: by classification of danger/escape levels, by classification of human/bug/creature/magic/psychological/etc/etc, by character tags) and clicking on the little links in each file that interest you.

Recommendations that I don't remember the number of but have a descriptor (or that are a story/incident report and not a specific scp): "Cousin Johnny" (ties to 3004), Agent Washington (minor character with 1 scp article and 1 tale but that tale is my favorite and I'm insane about it), "You Do Not Recognize the Bodies in the Water", "Laugh is Fun", "What Happened to Site 13", "The Tree That Hates You", "Duke Till Dawn", "Rock that Makes You Procrastinate", and, again, playing 'click the tag' and seeing where it gets you.

Fair warning that it's a horror project with thousands of users and participants, tens of thousands of assorted types of entries, and minimal cohesion across the concepts of 'time'. Some will have tws, some won't, I'm afraid the only comprehensive tw I can give for a lot of my recommendations is that I really lik body horror and Implications based horror.

Edit: Forgot about this bc i made the bubble when i was starting out in this fandom and maintined it well but don't like. don't live on the wiki. Lot of shit happened there and while I still love reading random articles a lot the mod system is mildly fucked and you're gonna want to stay away from Bright, Kaktus, and associated. I'll be honest and say the best way to engage that i've found is to read random articles and then go find trusted mutuals to be weird with bc it's a big enough thing that drama and scandals are about IRL events and issues and not just character beegs

Approaching @jinxjackie in a manner not unlike a villainous character from canadian afterschool specials that offers young impressionable teens the evil marijuana cigarette: You wanna read Pact???

[first-son-of-finwe]

So this is my “leaving the fold” essay, which I mentioned some time ago. I wrote this mostly for myself because writing things down always helps me make sense of them, but quite a few people expressed interest in it, so here it is. 

I was raised as quite a strict Orthodox Christian, and the religion is a huge part of my mum’s life. This is mostly my experience of its ideas and processes, and how and why I ultimately decided to leave. It’s a bit rambling, all over the place and very long, but I kinda wanted to post it somewhere, so 🤷

TW for mentions of abortion, alcoholism and general conflict.

When I was twelve or thirteen, my parents and I set off on one of our regular trips to Russia. We used to do this every year before time and money became restricted, and one of our compulsory stops was always a large, sprawling monastery on the outskirts of the city of Nizhny Novgorod.

It’s a place of smiling nuns but very strict rules, where God forms a part of every sentence and church is mandatory for both mornings and evenings. It’s a place of communal meals, harvesting vegetables and milking cows, ringing bells, and lots and lots of praying. For me, it was a taste of pure rural life. I loved running through the fields, swimming in the pond and helping out with the manual tasks of running a communal settlement. I gasped in delight when I saw the lone horse in the field. Deep down I was never meant to be a city kid, and being at the monastery fuelled my dream of living the simple life.

But the fact that we were there purely for religious reasons? That was only an afterthought. An obligatory thing I had to go along with, because the adults expected it. Perhaps I tried to feel the same spirituality they seemed to experience, but I never quite got there.

I put on the headscarf, held the candle, wrote the names of my loved ones on prayer notes for the living. I bowed to the icons, made the sign of the cross when everyone else did. But I never truly connected.

One year on the day of a particularly significant celebration, a huge icon was carried over a horde of kneeling worshippers, and my mum told me to kneel down and pray for my dad to recover from his alcoholism. And so I did.

This is something I’d been praying for for a long time. It’s something I was told to pray for at every holy site, and before every relic. And no, he’s never quit drinking.

But I already knew that he wouldn’t, even as I knelt, closed my eyes and begged whichever saint was on that icon to help my dad quit drinking. I simply knew that it didn’t work that way.

I knew it the same way I knew that Santa wasn’t real. Every child seems to have experienced a shock-horror moment upon learning that they’d been deceived, but I recognised him for what he was right from the start - a story. For someone who’s always thrown themselves wholeheartedly into stories and fantasy, I’ve always had a very clear distinction between fact and fiction - though I’ve also not been so close-minded as to think that there isn’t a grey area in between.

No matter how hard I tried to convince myself, I don’t think I ever truly believed in their version of what was supposed to be happening.

But I think my moving away from Orthodoxy truly began the day I heard my mum on the phone to her friend, who was at the beginning of a difficult pregnancy and was considering an abortion. She and her husband were on different pages with regards to this, though I don’t quite remember who wanted what. My mother’s advice was this: “Well you should really listen to your husband, because you know that a husband’s word is God’s word.”

Even being the believer that I was then, my immediate reaction was complete shock, followed by a thought process that went something like “Are you joking?? SERIOUSLY?”

And of course, it was hard not to think of my own father in his worst moments of drunkenness. So it seems “God’s word” is actually a whole lot of slurred, barely comprehensible nonsense occasionally sprinkled with some insults. That’s really the logic we’re going with here? And beyond that, how can you hand such a deeply personal decision to someone else??

When I went away to university for three years and spent considerable chunks of time away from my mother’s influence, my skepticism only deepened with every day. I couldn’t reconcile the science-driven environment I saw around me with the ideas being propounded in church. Sincerely believing in the Adam and Eve story, in this day and age? It didn’t compute.

Having said that, I would certainly not call myself an atheist even now. I think it is just as presumptuous to assume your absolute knowledge of the infinite universe and declare it contains nothing, as it is to declare that your religion is the only correct one. I find many things about the Christian God to be extremely convenient (just so happens to be an old white bearded man, oh fancy that), but I am certainly not convinced that there are no intelligent forces in the world, whatever shape they take. We are simply not in a position to know these things, and I’m okay with that. 

In turn, I treat anyone who claims to know them with intense suspicion.

Ultimately, leaving Orthodox Christianity was a long and painful process (I say ‘was’ in the past tense, but the truth is that it is still ongoing) filled with guilt, second-guessing, deliberate habit breaking and an extremely distressed and persistent mother. But my reasons for it boil down to four key things.

Their ideas did not match my ideas. I will never believe that women are obliged to be submissive to men. I will never believe that being gay (or in any way not straight) is a sin. I will never believe that Eastern Orthodoxy is the one true faith among all the other hundreds and thousands of faiths that exist on this planet. Living with your partner without being married is not a sin. Eating some chicken on a lent day is not a sin. A woman on her period is not “unclean.” Their ideas of good and bad, right and wrong seemed so incredibly outdated and arbitrary that it became hard to take anything they said seriously. And I felt so uncomfortable standing there, surrounded by people who I knew believed in all of this wholeheartedly.

Despite the religion branding itself as ‘Christian’, I don’t think I’ve ever heard any of the priests or worshippers talk about helping others. It is not on the agenda. People walk into church and think that because they’ve said their prayers, abstained from meat and dairy and then said their prayers some more, they’re now good people. But what have they done to make anyone’s life better? Who have they helped? Who have they listened to, cared for, understood? It’s not about that. It’s about making yourself feel good because you recited the Lord’s Prayer before eating your lunch.

The process of participating is extremely rigid, and trying to remember all those rules and traditions is honestly just stressful. Which hand do I kiss? How many times do I have to make the sign of the cross before approaching that super special icon? Do I have to touch the floor, or is that optional? Oh, everyone is kneeling...I guess I should kneel too. Once, I accidentally addressed the Archbishop as ‘Father’ and got a slew of disapproving looks from everyone around me. I think perhaps people find a certain kind of comfort and stability in routine, but having one imposed on you when you’re constantly unsure of the rules is not a pleasant experience.

Sometimes there is a very thin line between a religion and a cult, and Orthodoxy is toeing it a little too closely for comfort. I’ve seen it overpower people’s rational thinking and tap into their most powerful emotions in a way that’s honestly quite frightening.

The first step to leaving was progressively going to church less and less. I’d only ever really gone because my mum demanded it, but now, I put up a bit more resistance. I got screamed and yelled and cried at, and at first, of course I gave in. But little by little, I began to get the message across that I was simply not interested anymore.

Then, I deliberately made the choice to break certain habits. We always faced a row of icons on the wall and made a sign of the cross before leaving the house, and coming back in. It was such an ingrained habit that I did it automatically, and for the first few months, I had to physically catch myself in order to stop. That came with its own sense of guilt and hesitancy, and with the feeling that hey, now God is mad at you - hope a brick doesn’t fall on your head when you’re out there without his blessing.

The next step was removing the cross I’d worn around my neck ever since I’d been christened as a baby. Even now I can’t not wear something around my neck, so I have a little key necklace there in its place. Having a bare neck just looks too weird to me.

That cross came off and went back on at least three times. Each time I’d be persuaded, guilted, given the simple but effective phrase of “just do it for me.” I’ve removed it for what I hope will be the last time, and “just do it for me” won’t cut it anymore. If I converted to Islam tomorrow, would it be okay for me to ask someone to wear a hijab “for me”, even though they don’t share my faith? No, it wouldn’t. Religion and expression of religion is a personal choice, and not something you can strong-arm your adult children into.

Now, I’m in a fairly comfortable place where I’ve shed most of that initial guilt and am happy with my choices. I’ve even been back into church a couple of times just to meet a family member, only catching the end of the service - and even then, I’ve been reminded of exactly why I left. My mindset is simply too far removed to find any spiritual value in Orthodoxy.

Does my mother still try to get me into church? Yes. Are the attempts extremely mild and infrequent, compared to what they used to be? Yes. On one hand, I’d like to have a deep conversation with her and explain all the reasons why I have no interest in the religion anymore, but on the other hand, I know it’ll likely make her extremely upset.

Perhaps it’s better to just let it be.

[semi-pseudo-quasi-serious]

"Never assume conspiracy when incompetence will suffice."