#Eating At The Butcher

[subukunojess]

Title: Eating At The Butcher

Name of Dish: A Self Aware Fox and Raven Teriyaki with a cup of Chamomile Tea

Prompt: Free Space

Fandom(s): Original Work, Nightmare Before Christmas, Mario + Rabbids, The Muppet Show, & Copacabana (Song)

Genre(s): Humor, Fluff, and Dark

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Tony/Lola, Original Characters & Original Characters

Content Warnings: Macabre/Dark topics, blood mention, hospital mention, mention of a bullet wound, mentions of eating people, Implied Hurt-No-Comfort, and self-indulgent/self-insert randomness

Word Count: 5,965

Summary: A self-indulgent one-shot that is somewhat meta. A starving writer looking for inspiration comes across a mysterious and strange restaurant in the middle of the woods. The establishment expects its first customer to act in awe, unaware that she has surprises of her own.

It took me a while, but I finally finished a self-indulgent fic for one of my fanfiction bingos hosted by @thebutcherbingo

I love the aesthetic of the blog, so for my free space, I wanted to explore the world of a place where The Butcher restaurant exists and this piece was the result. No talk of cringe or beta-reading, we put ourselves in the spotlight. This is a meta self-insert fic that is me gushing about The Butcher while reflecting on my writing this year. Taking things one step at a time. I don't know if I'll add to it should I write more fanfic in the series and get a bingo or blackout. All in all, I had fun with it.

Not only does this have a lot of references and headcanons about supernatural restaurants, but I also introduce the concept of self-insert fusion where my self-insert can shift into canon characters for a while. Reasons that she does this is to get into character for writing (and in case the staff tries to harm her, but they can't because giant monster).

I hope you will enjoy this piece. Please share/comment/like/kudos. Thank you.

[redwolf17]

🙃 Regular reminder that while Hozier has amazing love songs, he is ALSO very outspoken about his leftist politics, specifically anti-fascism, anti-racism, reproductive rights, Palestinian rights and more.

Take Me To Church and Foreigner’s God are scathing critiques of organized religion, specifically the Catholic Church and the colonization of Ireland.

Moment’s Silence is about oral sex but it’s ALSO about how that specific sexual act is often distorted to a show of power rather than that of love.

Nina Cried Power is an homage to various (mostly Black) civil rights activists from the US and Ireland and a call to follow their path.

Be criticizes anti-migrant policies and Trump and his ilk.

Jackboot Jump is about the global wave of fascism and about protest and resistance.

Swan Upon Leda is about reproductive rights and the violent colonial oppression of Ireland and Palestine.

Eat Your Young is about the ruinous way the 1%/capitalism and arms dealers prioritize short-term profit over everything else to the detriment of the youth/99%

Butchered Tongue is about Irish and other indigenous languages being suppressed and erased by imperial powers.

If any of the above surprised you, please, please delve deeper into Hozier’s music, you’re missing such an important part of his work.

[ashleyeveerson]

Haven't been able to think about anything other than the victorian/edwardian/WW1 twink and his 80's punk almost-boyfriend for a week, send help

[foldingfittedsheets]

I'm sorry a TURKEY did WHAT to your mother's contact lens?? HOW??????

Right, yeah. So we had this turkey when I was growing up. And we raised this fucker from a tiny little baby, hand fed him, just doted on him. He was our first turkey ever. My mom called him Tom.

One day, she needed to work in a pasture so the flock of assorted fowl, (chickens, geese, and Tom) needed to be gently herded into an auxiliary pasture for the time being. The geese were biddable enough, the chickens ran ahead.

But Tom was not feeling it. He puffed up in irritation and my mom leaned down with her arms spread to usher Tom through the gate. Tom parked it. He turned to regard my mom with avian malice. And as she leaned down he shot out his horrible bald head and pecked her eye.

My mom screamed and fell backward, flailing enough that Tom fled through the gate anyway. When she recovered herself she came back inside, shaken and furious.

She checked out her eye and found it miraculously undamaged after the assault. It was like an hour later when she realized her contact lens was missing and the whole family speculated that it had saved her eye from Tom’s attack.

Tom did not live to see another sunrise.

[republicansaredomesticterrorists]

[vintagehomecollection]

Country Kitchens, 1991

[mochifiction]

Not a Transformers post but Hozier released his album and no I’m not sane or okay. I wanna talk about Butchered Tongue because there’s barely any discourse about it and I am absolutely inconsolable about it. While there are a lot of elements/ central themes of Irish colonization and the preservation of Irish language and inherently history/ culture with it, as a Person of Color, I was so deeply moved. It is a song of beautiful mourning, of sorrow in the blood and scars that run through the dying of or absolute death of a language. However, it is also a celebration and expression of admiration and awe over the strength and perseverance of language and those who wield it. Every verb, noun, accent, rolling of the tongue. Every simple sound, letter, article. All of it is an act of defiance of the voice to the oppressor. It is a fibre of being healing the deep wounds inflicted by the colonizer. Every utterance screams “We are here and we are moving onward even while still bleeding.” Even then, Hozier still captivated the grief that comes with the fact that…not all cultures have that. Not every community has the ability to learn their languages. Some are gone entirely. Some stopped being passed down for the sake of survival and assimilation. The anguish that comes with a bloody tongue, one that cannot speak what it was born to utter, to scream to sing…it’s a feeling difficult to put into words. To have this song in the Circle of Violence not only brings to light the physical violence against the Irish in their colonization, but the invisible consequences of such brutality on the colonized. The murders and scarring didn’t stop at flesh. Even some languages that survived didn’t escape without scars and wounds, infused with the languages of their colonizer (ex- Tagalog having pieces of Spanish in it). This was a love letter and kiss of praise yet also a funeral dirge to those wounded by colonization, and I have never sobbed so hard over a song before. It stirred such deep grief in me that I cannot explain.

[alissssssaka]

[very-passive-viewer]

I really have to give it to Hozier, who is usually so liberal with his use of allegory, but is as direct as possible with his communication of violence in Butchered Tongue. I think many people cannot conceptualize the degree of violence that came (comes...) with colonization, and the legacies it leaves.

The fact that he sings that the young men are buried without scalp "in the shattered bedrock of our home" - the depth with which he communicates the echoes of genocide and generational trauma makes my heart ache. And the fact that he lists the Indigenous names of places in the United States, Australia and Ireland in the first verse???

He's not shy about saying it with his chest about current oppression, either - he talks about the right to protest, collective action and liberating Palestine at every one of his concerts. If there's one thing the Irish are going to do, it's show solidarity.

This is absolutely my favourite song on the album.

[cephalopaints]

im definitely not the first person to do this

[sunriozz]

Hear me out. 1940s au where detective!Butcher gets dragged by his boys to a jazz club (to drink his sorrows away and soothe his mind?). while Butcher's not exactly into jazz, the singer, who calls himself John, might just be the most beautiful creature he's ever set his eyes on, paired with a voice that makes him go weak in his knees.

And as he becomes a regular patron of the club, Butcher soon realizes John could be the main lead to his latest, and hardest case.

[describe-things]

[Image description start. The three panel, "Do you think Margaret Thatcher had girl power" meme, now edited so that the first panel shows the TV host asking: "Do you think you are protecting democracy by voting blue no matter who?" The second panel shows someone responding, "Yes, of course." Panel 3 has the TV host asking, "Do you think you are protecting democracy by announcing to all politicians who will ever exist from now on that they can commit as many genocides as they want and they'll still get elected because you literally don't care what they do as long as they don't do it to you?". Image description end.]

I explicitly encourage everyone to download and repost this and use it as a reaction image. You can copy and paste the image descritption into your post. If you're on mobile, if your phone has a notepad app, you can save it there.

[chronicowboy]

when hozier said "the bliss of not knowin' yourself with all the mirrorin' gone from the world" and when hozier said "i'd still know you, not being shown you, i only need the workin' of my hands" and when hozier said "the soul, if that's what you'd call it, uneasy ally of the body" and when hozier said "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" and when hozier said "if you need to, darling, lean your weight on me" and when hozier said "let me put my lips to something, let me wrap my teeth around the world" and when hozier said "but i know being reckless and young is not how the damage gets done" and when hozier said "so someone with your eyes might come in time to hold me like water or, christ, hold me like a knife" and when hozier said "we didn't get it right, love, but we did our best" and when hozier said "as natural as another leg around you in the bed frame" and when hozier said "and have your guarded heart be lifted like a child up by the hand" and when hozier said "if i had his job, you would live forever" and when hozier said "the moment i knew i'd no choice but to love you" and when hozier said "you know the distance never made a difference to me" and when hozier said "i can scarce believe what i'm believing in"

[happyprincesscycle]

Billy Butcher x Supe!Reader

Summary: Billy has captured you to interrogate you about Homelander

(Your Supe powers are like Sage basically you don't have super strength)

Warnings: Tw! NON CON, Dead Dove, please don't read this if you get triggered or are not a fan of dark fics. Its my first fic so sorry if it sucks 🙈🫠

_______________________________________

“Last chance, luv ,” Butcher says, his voice dripping with menace, accent thick and unmistakable. He presses the knife harder against your skin, just enough to draw a bead of blood. “Tell me what I wanna know, and I’ll make it quick.”

He pauses, his smirk twisting into something cruel. “So, what’s it gonna be, eh? Talk, or bleed?”

You shake your head firmly, refusing to give him any information. Butcher sighs, sounding almost disappointed, like you’re just making things harder for yourself.

“Suit yourself.”

He presses down with the knife, carving a shallow cut across your chest. The pain sears through you, and you gasp, arching your back involuntarily. Butcher watches with a twisted satisfaction, his eyes gleaming as he drinks in your suffering.

“That’s just a taste,” he murmurs, wiping the blade clean on your shirt. “Next time, I won’t be so fuckin’ gentle.”

He leans in, his breath hot against your skin, before his tongue flicks out, licking the blood from your chest. He trails up to your neck, the sensation making you shudder in revulsion. You try to buck him off, but he’s solid, unyielding.

“Ah, woud' you taste that?” he mutters, nipping at your earlobe. “Fear and adrenaline—me two favorite flavors.”

He pulls back slightly, the knife glinting ominously in his hand. “Ready for round two, then?”

You avert your eyes, refusing to let him see the fear in them. Butcher chuckles, a dark, humorless sound that sends chills down your spine.

“Wot’s the matter, luv ?” He taunts, leaning closer, his voice a low growl. “Cat got yer tongue?”

He moves in even closer, his breath fanning over your face. “Y’know, I’ve always wondered what it’s like to fuck a Supe. Guess tonight’s me lucky night.”

His hips press against yours, and you can feel the hardness of his arousal. He laughs darkly as you squirm beneath him, trying to get away, but it’s no use—he’s too strong.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” he sneers, reaching down and tearing at your pants with rough, impatient hands. “I’ll make sure you enjoy it... Eventually.”

You cry out, struggling against him, but he’s unyielding. He forces your legs apart, his grip bruising as he holds you down.

“Fuckin’ Supes,” he mutters against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “Think you’re invincible, don’t ya? But you’re just flesh and bone, same as the rest of us.”

You try to kick him, to fight back with all your strength, but he’s too fast, too determined. He grabs your thigh, pinning it down as he grinds against you, the evidence of his arousal pressing into you.

He leans in, his teeth sinking into your neck with a feral growl that makes you cry out. The pain is sharp and sudden, and you try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.

“Please...” you cry out, your voice trembling. Butcher pauses, just for a moment, and looks down at you, his eyes narrowing.

“Please?” he echoes, his tone mocking, contemptuous. “You’re a fuckin’ Supe, love. Don’t deserve fuckin’ kindness.”

He grinds against you harder, his dark smile never leaving his face. “You’re nothin’ but a hole to fill, a toy to break. Understand? Say it.”

When you don’t respond, his hand comes down hard against your face, the slap sending a jolt of pain through you. Your vision blurs, and you taste blood on your tongue.

“Oi, I said, say it,” he snarls, gripping your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me you understand, you little cunt.”

Tears spill from your eyes as you nod, your voice barely a whisper. “Y-yes... I understand.”

Butcher’s smirk widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Good girl.”

He pushes your legs wider, his fingers digging into your thighs as he positions himself between them. “Now, let’s stop wasting anymore time, eh?”

He unbuckles his belt with a rough yank, the sound ominous in the silent room. His eyes never leave yours as he positions himself, the dark promise in them making your heart pound in terror.

“Yer gonna take every fuckin’ inch of me, luv'. And yer gonna fuckin’ like it.”

You try to squirm away, desperation clawing at you, but he grabs your hips, holding you in place with brutal force.

“Stay still, you little cunt,” he growls, his voice low and threatening. He slaps your thigh hard, leaving a red, burning handprint. “This is gonna hurt. A lot.”

And with that, he thrusts into you, hard and brutal, tearing a scream from your throat. The pain is overwhelming, but Butcher just laughs, the sound dark and filled with satisfaction.

“Music to me fuckin’ ears,” he murmurs, his hips slamming into yours with bruising force.

“Please,” you whimper, tears streaming down your face. “Please, stop.”

Butcher just laughs again, cold and merciless. “Stop?” he echoes, as if the very idea is absurd. “Why the fuck would I do that, luv'? We’re just gettin’ started.”

[republicansaredomesticterrorists]

Texas has become a third world fascist police state ruled by a dystopian big brother government.

[dearest-marv]

plot twist I’M the one with brain worms and they both live in my head