#tw: implied genocide

[shsl-hubris-guy]

Hey uh. Hey guys. Do you ever maybe wonder what it was that made Genocider start killing in the first place. Because sometimes I fear she did not start as the aggressor maybe

[xenibenbb]

4 and 38 get sillay 🐑🐑

4. Did your lamb kill anyone prior to their first death? If so, who?

TW BLOOD

TW BLOOD , VIOLENCE , IMPLIED DEATHS , DISMEMBERED HAND

38. What is your lamb's favorite food or dish?

50 questions

[luna-is-lost]

It's you?

[poswiecenia]

@altarfates \ where are the men in black & red ? aren't they supposed to protect us ?

( 🪶 )   EVERYTHING HURTS. HER knee feels like it's been stabbed by a hot poker --- yet in her pain she felt relief that it was her dealing with this agony rather than her brother. that the explosion that she'd already shielded him from kept him from harm .. she promised their mother that she'd protect him. she could do little in the way of prayer to HER that he survive this massacre unfolding once again. she hoped he would continue without her --- that he would keep pace away from her and not turn around but .. as SHE wept for HER children .. the mother goddess didn't answer katzizi's prayers.

THE BOY TURNED around. the distance parted between them closing once more and it took everything in her not to sob in despair. surrounded by bodies of people she couldn't even fathom as being whole once with how little they resembled whole human beings. she'd seen the weapons the katican's possessed : weapons she had never seen before in their hands ( were they not held by the men in black and red ? how .. were they not meant to be used to protect them instead of harm and destroy ? ).

KATZIZI DRAGS HERSELF and kakavasha out of the way , not daring to look down to see just how bad her knee looked. she didn't think she could go any farther but she had to feign for him that .. that they would simply rest for a quick moment. her heart burned seeing him so terrified , reminding her that they had to continue fleeing from the encroaching horror that was circling back around them.

HE SHOULDN'T HAVE turned around. he should've kept going without her. he'd survive by doing so -- she's dead weight that will get them both killed if the torrent of rain and blood didn't drown them first. why was this happening to them ? mother goddess she's terrified.

IT TAKES EVERYTHING she has to not sob as he tries to convince her and himself that he isn't afraid , her hands cupping his tiny cheeks despite the blood on them already. the act is two fold , to comfort yet also hide him from whomever may find them in this spot.

 ❝ I KNOW .. YOU'RE s - so brave .. I -- .. you need to promise me that no matter what happens you must stay quiet and still until there's no more n - noise. you understand , 'vasha ?  ❞  

[xxlordalexanderxx]

Given that Xandora's humans were, ahem, wiped out, how did they treat other races and species back in the day? What was the general opinion of humanity disappearing from the world?

"Beastfolk were slaves, kept as pets, or cruel entertainment for man. Once they were gone everyone was relieved or still terrified. But the general consensus was relieved and happy. Free. The newer generations have grown more indifferent as the centuries have gone by, but any elders that still live have nothing kind to say about humans."

[notyourtoday]

TW: Talking and Metion of SA

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Al Jazeera English (@aljazeeraenglish)

Caption on post -

Lawyers representing four Israeli reservists accused of raping a male prisoner, say they acted in 'self-defence. Meanwhile, groups of Israelis and lawmakers have defended their right to abuse prisoners.

Al Jazeera's Soraya Lennie breaks it down.

By @aljazeeraenglish on Instagram.

Link to post.

[nona0]

🚨🚨This is Gaza

The school year was supposed to start in Gaza, but backpacks were replaced with water containers, and the path to school was replaced with the path to the water filling line.

Please help me save my family. Donate, share or reshare. I would be grateful. We see all kinds of death in Gaza and we die

every day.

please help me and my family🙏💔😔

https://gofund.me/fc02c7cd

[liliallowed]

aren't you proud?

feels warning

may be triggering, proceed with caution after reading tags please.

Noelle Holliday

HP: 2000/2000

LV: ???

exp: ???

*misguided innocence.

*are you proud? did I make you proud?

*I tried my best. I'm going to save dad... you'll be proud of me then, right?

[meydia]

Blood Meridian; or, the Evening Redness in the West (1985) - Cormac McCarthy

Rating: 10/10

Reading this novel was like being reminded that evil persists, exists, is stoked by the mechanisms that people before us have carefully or carelessly put into place, perpetuated by sons that learn only violence from their fathers, hoping for easy solutions, for another whiskey or another fuck, onward into infinity like dancing bears on a very vast and dusty stage made of wood planks with ancient blood pooled in its cracks.

Just like its subject - the scalp trade in the Borderlands - McCarthy’s writing here is difficult to digest, forces you to slow down and absorb the horrors in their entirety. He lists these in excruciating detail - the gang commits massacre after massacre, unnecessary violence against innocent people, violence against people who fight back, violence against the people who employed them in the first place. All of these horrors are both fictional and real, based upon the actions of a real-life figure and leader of said gang, John Joel Glanton and his mysterious right-hand man, the Judge.

Yet McCarthy chooses to focus on the Judge as representative of true evil; supernatural in appearance, actions and worldly knowledge, the Judge states that “Whatever exists in creation without my knowledge exists without my consent.” After he records it tidily in his journal, we see him snuff out centuries, millennia-old example of human art with one giant hand - a scene that struck me strangely hard, considering that we had just seen him kill countless people, had been implied to harm children in unspeakable ways, had played the gang like a cruel fiddle for nothing but nihilistic enjoyment. And yet he is symbolically an imperialist symbol, consuming everything since he seems to truly believe in nothing but the tune of war and games of chance. No judge in the sense of justice - he holds court only in bloodsport and bloodshed.

And yet we see The Kid, our true protagonist, also born with a propensity of violence, show mercy; he helps; he is moved; he is unswayed by the Judge’s simplistic philosophy couched in the words of a skilled orator. We see him move on and become The Man. We see him kill, still; but he warns, he attempts to rescue others, he wants nothing to do with the game. He quits it entirely. His soul remained intact, and what happens at the end of the book… only happened because the Judge knew no other way to subdue it. And I think that gives me hope.

—

Personal note: I finished this book over a VERY long stretch - give or take 6+ months - but it was worth it in the end. I’m not necessarily a fan of historical novels, nor epic works, but occasionally I work myself up to it. I’m looking to maybe read Cormac McCarthy’s The Road next now that I’m used to his meandering style. I’m curious to know what people think about this book too though I’m aware that it’s already been dissected to bits and pieces everywhere on the literary internet and in reading groups and in universities.

A must-read for people unfamiliar with extreme violence and conflict, or those who want to learn about the Borderlands at the time, or if you just want to read beautiful descriptions of disgusting violence and a gorgeous, unfeeling and dangerous landscape.

[poswiecenia]

LUMINE HC OO2. ( my ) lumine and by extension aether are the last of their race. as explained in my 1st headcanon their planet was effectively destroyed, a civil war ending in mutual destruction that lumine and aether just barely escaped from. think planet krypton but superman wasn't, like, a newborn or whatever when he was shot off of the planet. a target due to their royal and celestial blood, lumine and aether were ushered off the planet. the two have travelled the cosmos and the stars, been unwilling witnesses to the creation and dying of stars in their 5000+ years of living and 2500 years of being away from home. they don't have a home anymore, becoming each others home as they are all they have - settling in one place is . . foreign to them, as is remaining somewhere for longer than a few hundred years at a time ( so lumine learning that her brother ??? has been on teyvat / as has she for 500 years is like. wild to her lmfao ).

[xxlordalexanderxx]

"There's nothing wrong with what you are."

Embracing the Monster

A part of him would forever be haunted by doubts. His past was nothing short of a nightmare; he had, with a single catastrophic decision, wiped out an entire generation of humans. The sheer horror of it was undeniable. It all stemmed from one simple, yet devastatingly unmet desire—recognition. Years of loyal service to a land that ultimately spurned him and his sacrifices had driven him to this point.

"There is so much wrong with me; I'll never truly be good, no matter how much good I try to do. All I can do is learn to live with myself."

[ask-multiple-dogs-ut]

mk, that’s not very nice, don’t call endogeny that. they’re just saying the truth, if the human was able to beat undyne, then NO WAY will you two win by charging in without a plan!

WHAT JUST HAPPENED..? HOW AM I BACK HERE?

[nona0]

Please my friends save Nona 🙏🙏🙏

🚨Help the child survive the Gaza war🚨🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Please donate if you can, and share if you cannot!

@awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @junglejim4233 @heritageposts @pcktknife @chososhairbuns @dlxxv-vetted-donations @illuminated-runas @imjustheretotrytohelp @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @visenyasdragons @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @sygol@fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @ot3 @mothblossoms @aleciosun @fluoresensitive @a-shade-of-blue @tortiefrancis @tsaricides @flower-tea-fairies @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @feluka @nabulsi @khizuo @transmutationisms @schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, kidnapping, LOTS of non-consensual touching, threats of violence, implied public sex, and unbalanced power dynamics.

Geto Suguru is a surprisingly tactile man.

You wouldn't expect it from a man so cold, so withdrawn, so prone to keeping his hands tucked in his sleeves away from any filthy, undeserving lesser beings like yourself, but it's not hard to spot once you know what you're looking for. When his girls were young enough to put up with it, he always had at least one, if not both of them in his arms, and his preferred form of greeting towards those in his select, but not exclusive inner circle has always been a hug, kiss, or some combination of both. Even when he claims he can't stand to look at you, when he orders you to bathe in scalding-hot water before admitting you so much as might be worth of his affections, he never lasts more than a few minutes before slipping in beside you with excuses of 'you're not thorough enough' or 'I can't even trust you to do this correctly' ready on his tongue. It might be sweet, if it wasn't so controlling. You're not really in a place to complain, though.

He likes keeping you close. For someone he claims is nothing more than a pest, he treats you akin to a lapdog; constantly calling your name, constantly petting through your hair, constantly keeping you pressed against his side or slotted against his chest or perched on his lap, an arm as thick as your leg wrapped around your waist to better snuff out your attempts to squirm. Any attempts to withdraw before he allows you to are met with punishments of the most severe order. You don't like being at his beck and call, having to sit through his depraved sermons for the sole reason that he doesn't trust you to leave his sight, but it's better than being shackled to his bedpost for another four weeks. You can be a lapdog, so long as you aren't a collared one.

Even the politest touch he offers you is unspeakable invasive. You're not sure how he manages to turn something as simple and as shallow as grazing you're lower back into yet another show of his authority over you. Part of it just might be the whole 'genocidal cult leader' shtick (it's hard not to find someone a little creepy after they've abducted, tortured, and traumatized you), but you'd like to think that even if you had entered into his company more willingly, you'd still find his intimacy more than a little off-putting. The worst of it comes at night, when he assumes you're asleep. The way he holds you to his chest, clings to you like a child does a stuffed animal might be cute in another context, but it rarely serves to endear him to you. If anything, it only proves that even unconscious, his greatest pleasure in life is smothering you.

Worst of all, he's handsy. That, in itself, shouldn't be all that surprisingly, but the lecherousness of it, the shameless of it still manages to leave you as disgusted as you are unnerved. It's rare for a full hour to pass in his company without his hand slipping under the collar of the silken kimono's he dresses you in and groping at your best until he's left indents in the shape of his blunt nails. Other times, his fingers will find their way underneath your skirts or into the waistband of your shorts while he's preoccupied with another matter, splitting you open on his fingers with all the attention one might pay to tying their shoes or brushing their hair. If you're lucky, he'll choose a private moments, one where you'll be forced to fall apart for his entertainment alone, tucked safely away from the prying eyes of his co-conspirators and congregation.

You don't get lucky very often.

Sometimes, you think he does it just to be cruel. He does most things to be cruel, and this would be far from the only way he's cruel to you, in particular. But, when drapes himself over you at night, when he drags you so suffocatingly close to his side, when he grinds his palm into your most sensitive point of vulnerability and whispers so possessively that you ought to be thankful for each second long he lets you live, it's not cruelty you see in Suguru's dark eyes, but rather something much, much more dangerous.

Desperation.

[lune-moon-nuit]

That's exactly what I meant on my thread twitter where I reacted to people encouraging and wishing SA on him. And I think it's the good occasion for I share here my point here (I share you exactly how I wrote it and this is the result of months observing silently the dynamic on twitter about it, see it as a sociological commentary very interesting) :

We seriously need to talk about this once and for all, because things have gotten completely out of hand. It's time we address the hypocrisy, and the way some people believe they can be openly homophobic and antisemitic towards him by weaponizing the 2023 incident.

Let me be clear: I’m not here to justify what he did. He messed up — that’s a fact — and I genuinely hope he learned from his mistakes, whether through being held accountable by others, or through witnessing the unfolding events that only further exposed how Zionism and Benjamin Netanyahu’s far-right, genocidal policies have become a cruel and tragic extension of the very fascism the Jewish people once suffered under.

But we need to remember some crucial points: being Jewish does not mean being Zionist. There are thousands, even millions, of Jewish people who do not and will never support Zionism or the actions of the Israeli state.

I truly believe that a 19-year-old kid — possibly raised in a Jewish environment shaped by a Zionist narrative, without full awareness of the Islamophobic and anti-Arab hatred embedded in that ideology — could have reacted emotionally after the October 7 attacks, and later come to recognize his errors.

I mean… if people at that age are vulnerable enough to be groomed, then they are certainly vulnerable and impressionable enough to adopt certain beliefs out of ignorance and emotional distress.

Again, I’m not excusing the harm he caused — I’m simply offering the possibility that he has since educated himself and grown for the better (as suggested by screenshots showing him liking posts in support of Palestine and a ceasefire).

The truth is, there are countless people — of all ages — who were unaware of the complexity and gravity of the situation between Israel and Palestine.

To give a personal example: I was always told that the "conflict" was about “Muslims and Jews fighting over Jerusalem because it’s where Jesus is buried, and it’s super taboo, so no one talks about it or people get angry.” That was quite literally the propaganda we were fed in France — and I’m convinced that many others grew up with the same shallow, misleading narrative.

So when October 7 happened, for people who didn’t know any better, of course the attacks were shocking, and of course many instinctively expressed support for the victims. Who wouldn’t feel empathy for victims of terror attacks, seriously?

I still remember how, even now, countless artists simply wanted to show compassion toward the victims — without understanding the full political complexity — and I don’t think anyone could have predicted what would come next.

Let’s be clear: there are hardcore Zionists, completely devoid of empathy, for whom there is no hope — people who have always known exactly what Israel has done, and supported it anyway. But I truly believe that the overwhelming majority are people who simply didn’t understand the reality, reacted emotionally, and later became lost in the chaos.

And we can’t ignore how Zionist propaganda in European and U.S. media has shamelessly weaponized the October 7 attacks to downplay, excuse, or justify Israel’s actions since.

All this to say: there are many of us — myself included — who are now actively pro-Palestinian, who are protesting, raising awareness, and sharing as much information as possible about the Palestinian cause, but who, on October 7, 2023, felt compassion for the victims of the attacks, without understanding the full weight of the historical and political reality between Israel and Palestine since 1948. And many of us were likely labeled Zionists for having posted a single message of support for the victims of the attack.

Because the real problem here is this: We have people who lack the full context, We have widespread media disinformation and propaganda, We have emotional reactions, And we have people on the internet exploiting this tragedy as an excuse for witch hunts — harassing and hating others under the guise of moral righteousness.

Which brings us back to the real issue here. If the actual reason you disliked Noah Schnapp was truly about Zionism, then you would simply ignore his existence. You would boycott the show, stop supporting the cast, and especially stop supporting your favorite actors — the same ones who are still friends with him to this day.

But that’s not what’s happening. Instead, you’re using the incident as an excuse to unload your hatred onto him — flooding him with homophobic and antisemitic insults, and even going as far as wishing for him to be sexually assaulted? Do you even realize the gravity of those words?

Let’s be clear: the obsession with weaponizing sexual violence to punish others is, based on what we’ve seen online over the past two years, much more characteristic of the behavior we've criticized in Zionists, just saying. There is a complete loss of humanity being directed at him that is honestly beyond comprehension.

I mean — there are thousands of public figures who have done far worse than he has, at a much older and supposedly more mature age, and with zero remorse. Yet you’re acting like he’s been chanting “Long live Israel” every day for the past two years — which simply isn’t the case.

Yes, he was wrong. Yes, surrounding himself with people wearing “Zionism is sexy” stickers was incredibly stupid and disappointing. Yes, liking posts in the days following the October 7 attacks that portrayed Hamas as "the villains" — without acknowledging the broader context — only made things worse.

But… he apologized. He faced massive public backlash. He was harassed — and continues to be — in deeply dangerous ways. He disappeared from social media for who knows how long. And most importantly: he hasn’t repeated those mistakes. In fact, he’s even liked posts in support of Palestine since.

So like… what more do you want? Should he kill himself to prove he’s changed and learned his lesson?

I’m sorry, maybe I’m too idealistic in this brutal world where people seem to believe human beings are either purely good or purely evil, with no in-between. But I still want to believe that people can learn, grow, and become better versions of themselves — and that a 20-year-old kid deserves the chance to try, without being threatened with rape or death every time he breathes, or attacked for being gay or Jewish. Just an idea.

Because if you really believe that what happened in 2023 gives you the right to be openly homophobic and antisemitic towards him — with the excuse of, “Who cares, he’s a Zionist, I can say whatever I want lol” — then congratulations. You’ve fallen straight into the trap of hatred, division, and dehumanization that people like Netanyahu, Trump, and far-right ideologues want to spread in all of us.

Once again: If you think it's justified to treat this boy like this because he once associated with people who wore those kinds of stickers… Then what are you even doing still stanning people who love, work with, support, and are still close to that same boy?

So? Are your faves problematic monsters too? What’s the situation here? Are you being hypocritical by condemning only Noah while turning a blind eye to the fact that your favorite is his friend — someone who clearly and genuinely loves him? Or are they all heartless monsters who deserve to be burned at the stake?

Let me offer you a theory — one that’s not only plausible but, frankly, far more realistic and human than anything you’ll find in the absolutist narratives that dominate social media: Maybe they’re all good people, with flaws and mistakes of their own. Maybe they’ve known this boy for over a decade, seen him regularly and in private for more than ten years. Maybe they know far more about who he is — his intentions, his values, his efforts — than any of us ever could through a screen, basing our judgments on four seconds of decontextualized video or a few scattered Instagram likes.

Maybe they’ve seen him genuinely trying to learn and do better — with every conversation, every interaction — and that’s exactly why they believe supporting him is the right thing to do. Because they know the truth, the one so many of you are so eager to claim as your own, preaching it as if it's absolute, when really, it just fits conveniently into a narrative of hate that thrives on bullying at any cost.

I’ve been part of the Stranger Things fandom since December, and every person I’ve seen openly hating Noah Schnapp just for existing at this point — I’ve never once seen any of them speak about what’s happening in Palestine. Not a single time. Not when the ceasefires were violated dozens of times, not when humanitarian aid was being blocked. Not one tweet. Not one image from a protest.

But somehow, when it comes to posting viral tweets insulting Noah’s very existence — while being blatantly homophobic and antisemitic — suddenly there’s no issue. Suddenly, everyone shows up.

Let me be clear: I’m not even a fan of the guy. I genuinely don’t care about him. But having witnessed all this hypocrisy, all this so-called “activism” that’s more performative than sincere — and, above all, this violence — I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help feeling empathy, and I couldn’t stay silent.

And before you accuse me of “caring more about this boy’s life than about Palestinians,” let me stop you right there: I speak about Palestine constantly — across all my platforms, in my daily conversations with friends and family. I’ve joined every protest I could in my own country. I’ve been physically assaulted by police for marching in support of Palestine. So you’ve picked the wrong person to accuse of being something I’m not — just because I dare to call out a brainless, hate-fueled herd mentality disguised as moral righteousness, which so many of you blindly follow for the illusion of control or power.

Breaking news: my heart is big enough to hold empathy for everyone, and my mind is nuanced enough to distinguish between people who are truly beyond redemption — like pigs such as Trump — and a 19-year-old kid who has neither killed nor assaulted anyone, who was simply ignorant, or surrounded by the wrong people.

And sure — time may prove me wrong. Maybe one day, he’ll say or do something that truly shows he hasn’t learned anything. But as of today, nothing he has done warrants being treated like the village witch who needs to be burned at the stake.

Let’s be honest: he’s become your scapegoat. A convenient target onto whom you project and channel all your hatred, your anger, and your violence. And that’s not okay.

So here’s what I want to leave you with: Let’s choose compassion. Let’s choose patience. Let’s choose to educate, to guide, to open conversations — not to destroy each other the moment someone stumbles. We gain nothing from hatred. We lose our humanity when we make cruelty a sport and call it justice.

No one learns through fear. No one grows in the face of public shaming and mass condemnation. If what we truly want is change — real, lasting change — then we have to be willing to lead with kindness, not violence. With understanding, not judgment.

This world is already fractured enough. Let’s stop tearing each other apart for the sake of being "right" or feeling powerful. Let’s remember that progress is only possible when people are given the space to reflect, to listen, to evolve — and that no one becomes better through being dehumanized.

We are not meant to be enemies. We are not meant to mirror the hatred we claim to fight against. We are meant to care. To teach. To hold each other accountable with empathy — not with rage.

So maybe next time, before you throw the first stone, ask yourself: “Is this helping build the world I want to live in?”

Let’s choose softness. Let’s choose healing. Let’s choose each other.

Because that’s how we change things. Together.

PS added after hypocrite I called out on this thread do exactly what I call them out :

While English is not my native language, I have devoted considerable time to crafting this message with utmost clarity and nuance. My intention is to prevent misinterpretation or distortion of my words. Regrettably, some individuals on platforms like Twitter have chosen to overlook the multiple instances where I explicitly stated that Noah Schnapp's actions were wrong, that he should not have done what he did, and that I hope he has learned from his mistakes. Instead, they have reduced my message to claims such as "she's defending and justifying this Zionist," or even more egregiously, "she's defending a Nazi."

Let's be clear: asserting that antisemitic insults directed at a Jewish person are unacceptable is not an act of Nazism; it is, in fact, the antithesis of it. If one were to accuse me of being a "Zionist sympathizer," it might at least align more closely with the topic at hand, though it would still be inaccurate given my evident pro-Palestinian activism. Participating in street protests to the point of facing tear gas from law enforcement and sharing firsthand accounts on social media are far more constructive actions than wishing death or sexual violence upon a 19-year-old who made the mistake of liking certain Instagram posts.

If you choose not to forgive him and continue to harbor resentment, that is your prerogative. However, the appropriate course of action would be to ignore his existence. For instance, I detest Chris Brown due to his history of violence against women; I choose to ignore him, boycott his music, and essentially forget he exists. That is how one handles disdain for someone's problematic life choices when believing they are beyond redemption. Even Kanye West, who has made numerous unacceptable and immoral statements over more than a decade, has not faced the level of treatment that is currently being directed at this young man.

It has taken over ten years of consistent problematic behavior for the public to finally cease making excuses for Kanye West. Yet, you find it excessive and wrong that I choose to hope a 19-year-old, who has faced consequences for his actions and has since refrained from any further misconduct, deserves a second chance to change and grow through education? His brain has not even fully developed at this point, and I'm being labeled a "Nazi" for having faith in human potential?

Once again, I acknowledge the possibility that I could be mistaken. If he fails to learn and continues to engage in problematic behavior, then he will face further consequences, and his actions will further damage his career and reputation. However, as of today, I see no reason why he should not be granted the opportunity to become a better person. When conversing with some of you, it feels as though you believe he is the one orchestrating bombings. Perhaps it's time to reassess your perspective?

Furthermore, what compelled me to write this message is my experience as a survivor of sexual violence (on multiple occasions). I am angry, hurt, and exhausted by the trivialization of our traumas. Being sexually assaulted, in my case, is a daily battle for survival. The post-traumatic stress torments me to the extent that the darkest thoughts can haunt me. This nightmare I endure is something I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy. Yet, some of you treat this subject as if it's a casual insult to be thrown around in a schoolyard. Even for that reason alone, if you find it acceptable to wish such harm upon him, regardless of your opinion of him, you are a bad person and potentially dangerous.

Once more, I ask: what must he do to atone for his mistake? Must he take his own life? I will not apologize or feel guilty for not wanting that outcome for him and believing he doesn't deserve it. You may be capable of losing your humanity and morals through anger and a thirst for power, fueled by the hypocrisy of an absolutist mentality devoid of nuance, but that is not the case for me.

Step away from your screens, go outside, and you'll realize that, aside from irredeemable beings like dictators committing genocides or capitalist elites willing to support them out of greed and hatred, and the sheep who follow out of ignorance, there are people full of complexities. Various life factors may have led them down a certain path, one they can deviate from by meeting and conversing with individuals who expose them to different facts, truths, and perspectives, thereby opening their minds and evolving into better individuals.

We return to the same point. We're not discussing someone who has killed or assaulted anyone. We're talking about a teenager who was poorly influenced and liked posts based on false convictions. Do you sincerely expect me to believe that you've never said, done, or liked something that could be considered problematic before the age of 20? At 20, you're less naive than before, but still far from the awareness you'd possess at 28; that's a fact.

In conclusion, I urge everyone to embrace empathy, kindness, and understanding. Let us prioritize education and the sharing of knowledge over mass condemnation and hatred. By doing so, we can unite and work towards creating a better world for all.

My general observation and last though about this whole situation that need to be said :

People are so determined to hate Noah Schnapp because he has become a symbolic target onto which they can project their collective rage, frustration, and pain regarding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict—one of the most emotionally and politically charged issues of our time. For many, especially on social media, nuance has no place. There’s a black-and-white worldview where you're either a hero or a villain, with no room in between.

Noah, being a young, visible Jewish celebrity who made a harmful mistake by engaging with pro-Israeli content, has become the perfect scapegoat. For some, his identity as a Jewish person conflates automatically with Zionism, and that conflation then fuels a dangerous and reductive narrative: that he is not just someone who made a mistake, but that he is irredeemably evil. This mindset strips him of all humanity and complexity, which makes it easier to justify the extreme vitriol directed at him.

People’s refusal to grant him a second chance, even after facing consequences and showing no further signs of misconduct, reveals a deeper hypocrisy. They demand accountability and education, but when someone is young enough to still be in a process of learning and has the potential to grow, they reject the very possibility of redemption. It’s not about justice anymore—it’s about punishment, control, and moral superiority.

The moment someone dares to say, “I’m pro-Palestinian, and I still don’t believe this boy is a monster,” it deeply unsettles them. It threatens the absoluteness of their worldview. It introduces complexity and moral responsibility, which means they might have to rethink their own behaviors—their own likes, retweets, and public condemnations. It's much easier to weaponize identity politics than it is to face the uncomfortable truth that even "the enemy" might be human.

It also reveals how performative much of this outrage is. If the true goal were justice, growth, and liberation, then the focus would be on systems, ideologies, and actions—not on a 19-year-old who made a mistake and is no longer repeating it. The disproportionate obsession with him speaks volumes: it’s not about Palestine anymore. It’s about ego, mob mentality, and the illusion of righteousness.

Many of them have likely done or said problematic things in their pasts—but because they weren't in the spotlight, they weren't held accountable in the same public way. Instead of recognizing this and extending the grace they once needed, they project their guilt and shame onto someone else.

Dehumanizing Noah is more comfortable than acknowledging he might be, like most people, a product of his environment, capable of ignorance but also of change. To admit that would mean accepting that people are complex, and that healing—whether personal or political—requires uncomfortable conversations, not just condemnation.

If they truly hated him, they could simply ignore him, boycott him, and move on—just like we do with artists whose values we reject. But they don’t. They keep his name in their mouths, not because they care about justice, but because outrage gives them power, relevance, and the illusion of moral superiority.

To those who continue to justify their hatred and violent obsession with Noah Schnapp:

You often claim that your anger is righteous, that it’s about justice for Palestine, and that Noah deserves the harassment, threats, and slurs because he “supported genocide” or “showed his true colors.” But let’s break that down with clarity, honesty, and integrity—because what’s happening is not justice. It’s cruelty disguised as activism.

1. “He supported genocide.”

Noah liked and engaged with pro-Israel content, which is undeniably harmful and upsetting. That was wrong. But supporting a narrative, especially as a teenager who may not fully understand the global implications, is not the same as actively committing or enabling genocide. Did he hold a weapon? Did he drop bombs? Did he sit in a seat of power and fund military violence? No. He was, at worst, ignorant. And ignorance is not a death sentence. Ignorance is an opportunity to learn. If we scream that people must "educate themselves," then we have to create space for education—not eliminate people the second they show they need it.

2. “He’s a Zionist.”

You’ve labeled him that without a single statement from him explicitly identifying as one. You’ve turned a presumed political identity into a reason to dehumanize someone. Even if he had once internalized Zionist narratives (like many young Jews growing up in the West do), that doesn't mean he is beyond change. Political views are not permanent. They evolve—especially in young people. Demonizing a 19-year-old instead of engaging in dialogue ensures no growth. It only feeds more division and hatred.

3. “He never apologized.”

First, he has faced enormous backlash, public scrutiny, and intense consequences. That in itself has been a form of social accountability. (and actually, he did apologized but you all are convinced they aren't sincere which is my second point here) Second, let’s be honest: if he did apologize (again), many of you wouldn’t believe it. You’ve decided he’s beyond redemption, so nothing he says or does will be enough. That’s not justice. That’s vengeance. Real justice is about restoration—not humiliation.

4. “He deserves to suffer for what he did.”

No. No one deserves rape threats, death wishes, homophobic or antisemitic slurs. If you’re advocating for liberation but simultaneously using tools of violence to push people down, you’ve already betrayed your cause. Wishing suffering on someone doesn’t liberate Palestinians. It doesn’t educate a confused 19-year-old. It only turns you into what you claim to stand against.

5. “If he’s old enough to have a platform, he’s old enough to face the consequences.”

True. But “consequences” are not the same as abuse. They’re not the same as dehumanization. Real consequences involve learning, evolving, losing opportunities, and being held accountable—not being targeted by thousands of people who scream for your death daily. If we don’t differentiate between accountability and harassment, then we’ve lost the meaning of justice altogether.

6. “He’s white, rich, and protected. He’ll be fine.”

Privilege doesn’t erase the harm that sustained mass bullying can cause. Even privileged people deserve to be treated as humans. Being white or rich doesn’t mean someone should endure violent abuse—especially from the very people who are supposedly fighting for a more compassionate and just world. Also, if he “will be fine,” why are you still so obsessed with trying to destroy him? Either he doesn’t matter, or he does. You can’t have it both ways.

Why this is all counterproductive:

You’re not educating him. You’re turning him into a symbol of your anger. And symbols can’t grow, learn, or evolve—only people can. If your goal is justice for Palestine, focus on the systems, the actual perpetrators, and amplifying Palestinian voices. This boy is not the oppressor you think he is. He is not the IDF. He is not Netanyahu. He is not the U.S. government. And every second you spend attacking him is a second you’re not fighting the real forces of oppression.

You’re undermining your own movement. People outside the echo chamber see this hate and chaos and assume that being pro-Palestinian is about cancel culture, not human rights. That is deeply unfair to Palestinians and their suffering. Don’t turn activism into bullying. Don’t confuse a mob with a movement.

You are using real trauma (yours or others') as an excuse to project violence. For some of us who are victims of real violence, weaponizing words like "rape" or "abuse" as throwaway insults is deeply offensive and retraumatizing. You don’t fight pain with more pain. That’s not activism. That’s just hurting people because you’re hurting—and that’s not the way forward.

You are refusing to believe in change. And if you don’t believe in change, what are you fighting for? Justice is about making things better, not making sure someone you hate gets destroyed. What if, instead of pushing people away, we opened the door for them to walk toward truth? What if we said: “You messed up. We need you to do better—but we still see your humanity.” That’s how you change the world. Not through hate. Through education, through dialogue, through belief in people’s ability to grow.

So ask yourself honestly: Do you want a better world, or do you just want to watch someone fall? Because if it's the latter, you’re not a revolutionary—you’re just addicted to the spectacle. Let’s choose education over cancellation. Accountability over cruelty. And healing over hatred.

Honestly, I believe that many people would be indifferent and simply ignore him—just as you claim to wish cancel culture could be handled: with silence and disengagement rather than obsessive public shaming. But the truth is, your violence, your contradictions, and your hypocrisy have created the complete opposite effect. You are inadvertently provoking immense empathy and compassion toward him.

Just today, I came across a tweet with 69,000 likes portraying Kanye West as a victim—this, despite the fact that he has, for over a decade, repeatedly made deeply immoral and harmful statements, including, most recently, a horrifying admission of having sexually assaulted his six-year-old cousin when he was 14. This is someone who has openly aligned himself with Nazism, proudly supported Trump, and expressed admiration for racists and fascists—and yet, he continues to be excused, protected, and endlessly defended by the general public, who justify it all under the banner of his creative genius and bipolar disorder, despite the fact that he is a grown man in his forties.

And yet, Noah Schnapp made one mistake—at 19 years old—by surrounding himself with the wrong people and engaging emotionally with a few posts and one Instagram story. He did not repeat the behavior. He did not double down. And still, three years later, he is treated as though he were the one dropping bombs on Gaza.

This level of disproportion not only distorts the narrative—it alienates people from your cause. It disgusts those who witness the abusive behavior of people who scream that they are "defending Palestine" by viciously attacking Noah. In doing so, you are not protecting Palestine—you are harming the very integrity of that advocacy.

You are turning Noah Schnapp into a martyr of the internet’s abusive witch hunt culture, and in doing so, you are shifting the focus away from the actual harm of the ideologies he may have once naively believed. Your obsession becomes the distraction. Your hatred becomes the spectacle.

Do u supporrt noah scnapp

I support not harassing people when they haven't done anything extreme or are very young and ignorant but still have good intentions behind it, I'm not a fan of any celebrity and I think some of the things he said were problematic and needed to be corrected because they were based on prejudice but I also have been told the whole story behind what people are spreading online and I don't believe he is a "genocidal maniac" like people say, I don't think he wants any children or people to die at all.

He also was subjected to propaganda since birth basically and that's a tough thing to deconstruct, especially when you have around you "friends" that are actual convinced and obtuse Zionists and they tell you that the only meaning of Zionism is "for Jewish people to have a safe place" - obviously ignoring everything that the state and citizens of that place have done to the Palestinians

for now I believe he was sincere when he apologized and said that he was having conversations about it with Palestinian friends he has and learning from it, I also know people that have spoken to him directly and talk to him and know that he has donated money to help Gazans and is not currently supporting the state of Israel, this is private information because he doesn't plan on speaking on the subject again since people have hated on him so much that he had to start therapy for that and other reasons that are also private

I've also been told that he as a celebrity had a contract after he went to visit Israel where he apparently couldn't unfollow the account on ig before a certain amount of time had passed and it's something they do for publicity, this is a diffused thing that they did and it's why he had to wait before unfollowing even if he changed his mind about it a lot of time before he was able to do it

Taking all of this into consideration, plus his age because when he spoke up he was 19 which to me is equal to a child like it or not, in general I don't like the amount of harassment and homophobic hate he has been receiving with people wishing him rape and death continuously when there's people that have said and done wayyyy worse than he ever did and they didn't receive half of the hate he has.

I don't think it's helping any Palestinian person to do that and the amount of time spent on hating celebrities could be used differently... also because it's hypocrisy and virtual signaling mostly, people attack some celebrities while supporting others that have said ZERO words about the whole thing, not even shared a donation link once!

plus if you really want a celebrity to fail you have to ignore them completely, not talk shit about them... so it's even just dumb in general, some celebrities stay in the job market just because of controversy, if you don't like Noah you should just block and ignore him

[wordsbymae]

Saviour Complex- goddess!Reader x Warrior

Plot: Reader is a young goddess, still yet to come into her full power. The patron goddess of innocence and compassion, she resides deep within the forest, caring for any lost souls who come her way. Destruction finds its way to her lands, as the Emperor's men flood the forest, tasked with cutting down anyone who refuses to denounce their heathen ways. One warrior finds the reader's temple, and tasks himself with 'saving' the reader from herself.

TW: Loosely based on posiden and medusa, which if you know is a trigger warning all on its on, SA, Implied non/con, talks of religion and religious genocide. Neither the warrior's or reader's religions (so to speak) are actual practised or once practiced religions. They are completely made up. Sexual talk. This fic is from the warrior's point of view so very much misogynistic, ignorant, and him being a dick. Also breeding is mentioned (a few times, opps) I see the warrior as Pedro Pascal as Pero Trovar

Notes: This was meant to be priestess reader but I liked this idea better. Enjoy!

He would hardly call the temple before him a temple. It was nothing more than some stones and arches pilled together, hidden under the canopy of a great oak. It was not as old as the other temples he and his comrades had pulled down. The other's, older and more grand than the one in front of him, were infested by savage heathens. They had been dozens of them milling around the great stone pillars. Some leaving tokens of good faith, other's seeming to be in constant service to their wild gods.

This land he found himself in was not under the watchful gaze of the Eye. Nor were they subjects of the Emperor. Instead they worshipped petty gods and goddesses, born from mortal parent's, given gifts of power from Mother Wild. The gifts given depended on their actions as growing gods. Raised as mortals until their 20th nameday, when Mother Wild gives them her final gift, immortality. At least, immortality to a point.

They age as mortals do, but the hands of time pass ever slowly by. As they watch their family and friends grow grey and old, only days have the wild gods aged. It is said that they can one day grow old, grey and tired, succumbing to death as all living things do. But none had ever yet to reach such an age. Gods were able to be killed but it took strength and numbers to do so, and the sword of Caleen, the first wild god ever born. Caleen's own blood had been mixed with the metal, creating a sword capable of penetrating through the gifts given to them. The sword, gifted to him by the Emperor, lay dormant in its sheath by the warrior's side. It was the only method known to truly kill a wild god.

Until then, the only way to defeat a god without the sword was to force them to act in a way that went against their patronage. Salios, once god of law and order, had his gifts ripped from him by Mother Wild, when he unjustly killed an innocent man. Without his gifts, age and sickness came for him thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of years before he should have perished as a god. Yet such an act had not occurred for hundreds of years, least of all forced by human hand. So these wild gods reigned over their forgotten wood, almighty in power and reverence.

It was heresy.

These 'almighty' beings were nothing but demons, given unholy power by the forces of darkness. Born human, yet corrupted by power. It was unnatural, it was all that went against the teachings of the Eye. Humans were sinful creatures, and the more power one had, the more corrupted they became.

The warrior grimaced as he walked up to the temple. A stupid move if he was being honest. He was here alone after being separated from his battalion. But he needed a place to shelter the coming storm, the air thick with the scent of rain. He would rather face a barbarian than freeze in the wilderness. The temple seemed to be empty, no worshippers leaving offers or priests caring after the god. It was quiet and lonesome. Yet strangely welcoming. He could feel warmth emerging from inside the temple, the scent of delicate florals dancing through the air.

He hesitated at the threshold of the temple, it was clean and well looked after. The walls were lined with soft candlelight, and murals of prancing deer and maidens dancing through the woods. A statue of a woman stood silent in the middle, bathed in dark sunlight by a round hole in the roof. The statue was covered in crowns of flowers. Some placed on her bowed head, others hooked onto her arms as they reach outwards, palms facing towards the sky. Gifts of pearls, lilies and feathers of pure white were placed delicately at the foot of the statue.

He did not care to learn these savage gods names. There were hundreds of them, some more powerful than others. Some given patronage over small, worthless things. He had laughed for hours when he discovered that there was a patron god of footprints. Whoever this temple was erected for, was loved yes, but not revered.

The warrior walks deeper into the temple, becoming enveloped in a sense of peace and compassion at the care given to this little goddess. He grunts in frustration, these stupid gods and their stupid 'gifts'. When he and his brothers in arms desecrated the patron god of fear's temple, the battle was nearly lost as they nearly fell to the wild gods powers. Fear racing through their ranks. Just being in the presence of a god was enough for their powers to linger in the air, effecting a mortal humans thoughts and feelings.

This little goddess must still be here.

Rain began to fall from the heavens, it came down with a fury. Yet, the rain that fell through the hole came down in fat, gentle drops upon the statue of the goddess. Water drippled down her stone face, the warrior had to admit this little goddess was quite the beauty. If her statue was anything to go by. He walks deeper into the sanctuary, closer towards the statue. He stops just in front of her image, breathing in deeper at what he can only imagine is her scent, sweet yet comforting, there was an earthiness to it too. He reaches out to caress the stone cheek of his little goddess. What a pretty thing she was.

He kneels to take in the sight of the gifts offered to her. There were the pearls, feathers and lilies he had seen before. But now he could see spools of white wool, wrapped in ribbon, and carvings of hearts, flowers and dozens of names circling the statue.

Lightly touching the most prominent of the carved names, he allowed himself a grin. He had found the wild goddess of innocence and compassion.

He had found you.

You were the youngest of the gods, only decades since you were gifted your immortality. Yet, you had quickly become beloved by your worshippers. The patron goddess of innocence and compassion, you resided deep within the forgotten woods, caring for the animals of the forest and any travellers who crossed your path. It is said that only those in needing of help or guidance, and children looking for a home could find you. The delicate smell of flowers leading the way to your temple. The names carved upon the stone at your feet were those you had cared for over the years. Travellers lost and afraid. Children without parents or care. Women hiding from vengeful men. And men scarred by life itself. All found their way to you, to your compassionate and pure hands.

You were the last of the major gods that the warrior and his men were yet to find. Your brothers and sisters before you had fallen. Some had run like cowards leaving their temples, and their followers, to burn into the night. Others, slaughtered by his hand. Time may only harm the wild gods so much, but Caleen's sword is a deadlier foe than time itself. It filled him with joy remembering plunging Caleen's own sword into the first wild god's heart. He was the first of the wild gods and as such he was the first to fall.

The warrior stood to his full height quickly as soft footsteps made their way through the temple. They came to a stop, the owner hidden by darkness still.

Outside the storm raged on.

"That you little goddess?" the warrior jested, hand coming to rest lazily on his sword's pummel. He stepped around the statue, giving a slight kick at a doll that was laid carefully at its feet.

The sound of hesitant shuffling could be heard. His little goddess was nervous.

"May I see your face, dear one? I have come a long, long way to find you. I wish not to leave this place without seeing your face, it would break this poor soldiers heart" he pouted in fake hurt, creeping towards you as a wolf moves closer to its prey.

"Who are you?" you ask, voice calm and strong. Yet, he could sense fear in your words.

"Just a poor soldier, a lost traveller if you will. Seeking the care and compassion of your grace" he answers, bowing slightly. He toys with his pummel, he had a feeling he would not need to draw it this day.

"Are you hurt?" you plead, taking a closer step towards him, your sense of empathy and compassion shinning through.

The warrior saw his chance, and he was going to take it.

"Not physically your grace, but I have not yet broken my fast or had a drop of water in days." he furrows his brow, grimacing and holding his stomach with his free hand.

"Oh! Your poor thing!" you exclaim, rushing forward to meet him. Once in the light, the warrior damned the creator of the sculpture for failing to capture your beauty. The statue was nothing in comparison to you. Your hair was thick and healthy, framing your face perfectly. Your skin soft and supple. Lips dewy and oh so kissable.

Your were the most beautiful woman he had seen in his entire life.

And here you were, all his for the taking. You were dressed as a goddess deemed fit, perfectly tailored and fetchingly so. But all he could think about was ripping it from you in a daze of lust. You rushed up to him and guided him deeper into your temple. He only realised that the temple was much larger than it seemed when he was outside. These wild gods and their tricks. You cooed to him the entire time. Stating there would be a warm bath and fresh fruit and clear spring water for him in his room. You hadn't even noticed his weapon, or if you had, you truly were the patron god of innocence.

He allowed you to fuss over him. Allowed you to lead him deeper into your temple, until you reached an open court yard, filled with plants of all colours and sizes, soft grass below his feet. At one end a statue of Mother Wild stood, vines and flowers blooming across her figure. In the centre of it was a beautiful flowering tree, more gifts had been left here to.

He stopped you from leading him further on, his eyes set on this tree. There was magic in its very fibre, unnatural power. He could feel it.

"Everything ok soldier?" you try, hand coming to rest on his back. He flinches at the contact, it was so soft and kind. No one had touched him with such care before.

"What is this tree?" he turns to you.

"Oh! Its a magnolia tree" you grin

"No, I know that, why is it here, and why.." he stops himself, he was going to ask you why he felt power radiating from it. "why are there gifts at its base."

You give him a soft smile, gently grabbing his hand you lead you to its base. You softly bring yourself and him to the ground. White flowers fell softly to the ground. You reached a hand out to touch the bark, closing your eyes, before reopening them to look at the warrior.

"Here, give me your hand"

Without thought he places his hand in yours.

What wicked spell have you put him under.

And why does he not care to know.

With your gentle touch on his, the warrior felt heat rise deep inside him. You placed his hand on the bark, yours overlapping his.

"Do you feel it?" you whisper, voice soft and kind.

Of course he could feel it. Pure innocence, unbridled compassion and love.

He hated it.

"This tree is an extension of myself. The day I was born, when my parent's realised who and what I was, they planted this tree. They understood that they and all those who I love would grow old, die and leave me alone. This was their way of giving me a companion. The day I received my gifts and my patronage was the day I laid my parents to rest under this tree's shadow."

He watches in silence as tears well up in your eyes.

"I hadn't even turned four and ten springs yet, when...when they attacked. They were raiders from the south. Brutes, really. My parent's told me to flee, but there were younger children, pregnant women and injured men who couldn't flee, or didn't know where to flee to. So while the warriors in my village tried the best they could to defend us. I went back and forth between this tree and the village, carrying, dragging and leading all those I could to the safety of the great oak that shadows my temple. When I went back the last time, there was nothing left. Our warriors were slain and my parents...."

You break off, tears trickling down. He feels the sudden urge to wipe them from your cheek. He lets himself have the honour of doing so, and your let yourself have the pleasure of him touching you.

"Anyway, there wasn't much else I could do, so I brought them here, buried them, and cared for the survivors the best I could. It was then I was given my gifts, for my compassion for my people and my innocence in the face of death, I was given my patronage. We rebuilt our village, and life was good. But the years after I was given my final gift, were... difficult to say the least. Watching my friends grow old, have families of their own. Then watching their children age and grow grey. I... it was difficult."

You give him a pointed stare, now turning your back onto the tree and rested upon it. He removes his hand from the bark, mirroring your actions.

"Can I tell you a secret?" you plea, eyes big and soft.

"Of course my little goddess, I will take it to my grave." he sternly replies, practically giving you his oath as a holy warrior of the Eye. You thought he was joking, jesting with you after such an emotional story. You gave him a giggle and playfully smacked his chest.

"No need for that, but thank you." you trail off, thoughts of long ago in mind. He nudges you softly, eager to learn your secret.

You look back up and him and sigh, turning off into space.

"Sometimes, when I have no one to look after, and its been months, sometimes years, even, since someone has walked through my temple's door. I wish I wasn't born a goddess. I wish I could grow old, fall in love, marry, have children of my own." you look down, playing with your hands.

The warrior was troubled, yet excitement grew. You could be saved. You wished to be without the corruption of the dark forces that ran through your very being.

"But you could start a family. I have heard tales of demigods"

"Yes, but I can't" you stress turning to him. "I am the goddess of innocence, not just compassion. To bare a child would mean I am no longer innocent, therefore my powers would be stripped from me. I would be mortal again."

You huff in frustration. Even if you were able to have a child, it would still grow old, and you would be left to bury another one of your kin below your beloved tree.

The warrior was delighted. Overjoyed, perfectly happy with this news. Some gods had gifts that were hard to strip from them. How do you make the god of footprints go against footprints? Cut off their feet? Unless....

No he's getting distracted. Here he was being given his own gift, from his god. The Eye was testing him, for sure. Allow a wild goddess to continue her wicked magic, or save the mortal within. You already told him you wished to be free of your curse, the burden placed on you the moment you were born. All he had to do was take your maidenhead. Put his seed in your womb and watch it grow. And what a fine mother you would be. You had spent decades being a mother to hundreds, so what more a burden would a few of your own be. In fact he was sure your would revile in it.

You were practically begging him to fill you with his seed, with those big, soft eyes and those curves that screamed at him to take you. He was without a wife, he would have to break you in for sure. You were a wild one of course. But with a few whelps to look after and one surely in your belly, how much could you defy him?

His cock began to stir. His eyes laden with lust. You look up at him once more, brow furrowing at his darkened eyes.

"Is everything okay soldier?" you sweetly ask, actually concerned for his wellbeing.

"Let me give you the life you want, little heathen" he begs, pushing you down onto the soft grass below the tree.

"What? No! Get off!" you plead, pushing against him. He tightens his grip on your wrists.

"Give me the honour of cleansing you of your dark powers, instead allow me to gift you the honour of carrying my seed." He growls, coming down to give you a lust filled kiss.

You bite his tongue with a vengeance, the taste of blood trickles onto your tongue.

"Mother!" you scream, turning onto your belly. Reaching for the silent statue of Mother Wild. She sat impartial, watching silent and cold. You begin to sob, as the warrior pulls your hips and ass into his crotch.

"Shh, shh little goddess, it will all be over soon. You shall be my sweet wife and you shall grow fat with my child." he comforts, his words tasting like iron on your lips.

"No!" you cry, elbowing him in the nose. You get up to run, straight towards Mother Wild, you drop in front of her and beg for her help.

"Help me Mother Wild. Please!"

You were only gifted the power of healing and other small gifts that now seem useless. What could were they against a man like this? The warrior gets up with blood streaming down his chin.

"My! The little heathen has some bite, huh" he sneers, pulling his sword from its sheath. You turn to look at him in fear, surely that was not what you think it is.

"Recognise this? I drove it through your first wild gods heart, and many more of your brother and sisters since then. I wish not to harm you little goddess, but if you do not renounce your claim to your wicked birth right, then I will be forced to kill you." He almost grins at the sight of you kneeling and afraid.

'That's it heathen, fear me, fear the holy Eye.'

You turn to Mother Wild once more, pleading and begging for protection.

Nothing happens.

You sob as you are ripped from your place by the statue and dragged back to the ground under your tree. You are pushed onto the soft grass, for a moment you forget what is happening, and you are young again, watching the sky through the leaves of your tree. Your parents are still alive, you had yet to be given your gifts, and you can kid yourself into thinking life will be like this forever. You are broken from your daze as Caleen's sword is plunged into the soft dirt by your head, and you are quickly reminded what madness you found yourself in. You stare up at the warrior in front of you, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. He kneels down onto you. His blood drools out of his mouth, dripping down his chin. His eyes are filled with lust and pride.

What an evil, wicked man.

You choke back a sob in fear of what is to happen next.

"My dear one, do not cry for the life you are renouncing, cry with joy for the life we are to create." He shushes you gently, a rough hand caressing your tear stained cheeks.

"What poetry is this, that you should lose your gift of innocence the very place it was given"