#mary is an asshole

[aggressivelyaverage21]

Baby Bea and the OCS Chapter 1

8 Years Earlier: One week following Beatrice's 17th Birthday

Stepping off the train in Antequera, Beatrice can’t help but feel like a cliche. Here she is. A school girl in a strange country, again. All her belongings were in a duffel bag slung over her shoulder as she looked wide-eyed at the beautiful architecture of the Spanish town. It rolled and moved with the hills. The buildings looked like they belonged there just as much as the mountains did like they might have been there just as long.

It was different from Porrentyry. The home of the ever-prestigious St. Charles College et Lychee, god, even thinking of the name, made Beatrice want to roll her eyes. It was greener there. But not really in a good way. It made the buildings look stuck there. Like they didn’t belong.

Though young, Beatrice wasn’t blind to the fact that all these observations about belonging were likely just her projecting. At least this time, she knew more phrases in the local language than “Hello” and “Where’s the bathroom?” when she walked through the streets of a new place. Alone, and a least less afraid than the first time she’d done it. Maybe this could be it. Maybe this would be a place she could fit.

As she walked the streets, she stopped at a little corner bakery. The smell pulled her in more than anything else. It was delightful. She’d been training since the Nun visiting Maison du Cœur Eucharistique mistook her for a novitiate and started the recruitment process for the OCS, but the Roscos Fritos smelled so good she couldn’t resist.

One treat, one final indulgence, before she entered a life of service couldn’t hurt. Right?

The man behind the counter she orders smiles at Beatrice, warm and easy, as he passes the bag to her. However, when she reaches to dig through her pockets, he holds a hand, stopping her. “¿Eres del Convento?”  

“No.” Beatrice shakes her head, looking down at herself. She didn’t think she was dressed as a nun. Loose-fitting black pants and shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun. Little did she know she’d be sitting at a bus stop in an outfit not dissimilar to this one going the opposite direction. However, for now, that wasn’t her.

Not yet, at least. If they let her stay, it wasn’t exactly a done deal. She still had to convince Mother Superion to let her stay. That she was worth it. An endeavor that may prove impossible, seeing as she was still trying to convince herself too.

She didn’t know much. She’d tried her best to research the order and talk to the sister who’d recruited her, but the OCS was secret at best and very good at keeping that secret. She was told to come in good physical shape and be ready to train hard. Beatrice was no stranger to training, to discipline and pushing herself to her limits, but this was an unknown world.

Beatrice wasn’t afraid of hard things. Her whole life was hard. A sentiment she often found herself refuting. Her life was privileged. She knew that much. She should be thankful for all she was provided with growing up, and she was. However, that didn’t mean it wasn’t also hard. Fitting into boxes she didn’t belong in. Pretending to be things she wasn’t, being good at things so that she had any value at all. It was hard, and it was exhausting.

She didn’t think joining the church would solve that problem. She wasn’t that delusional, but she figured if she was going to have to pretend, to hide parts of herself away, and be miserable, she might as well make something of it. Be of service. Help.

It didn’t hurt that here she would have the opportunity to prove to a god she longed to be loved by that she was doing everything she could to make up for the sins of her heart. She’d slipped one time, and that was it. It hadn’t even been anything at all. It had been innocent childhood friends misconstrued into something perverse, but perception was reality, and that time had long passed.

She’d never felt a dread like this. Thinking about all the ways she could fail. What might happen if she did. She knew this was going to test her in all the ways she could be: physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Likely socially as well. There were going to be late nights and early mornings. Training. Prayer. Studying. Beatrice wouldn’t say she was scared. That felt like admitting something she wasn’t going to be able to overcome.

In the darkest parts of her mind, even if Mother Superion allowed her to stay, Beatrice wasn’t sure she’d overcome any of it. Those nagging ‘what ifs’ played like a broken record in her mind. What if they found out? What if she wasn’t good enough? What if they rejected her? What if she didn’t have what it took? What if she was terrible at it?

Quitting doesn’t count if it is before you even started, right? No. The humiliation of quitting would be less than the humiliation of failing, right? You are doing this. Failure isn’t an option.  

Then and there, in this quaint bakery in this small Spanish town, while a baker looked at the strange young woman before him, Beatrice made herself a promise: You will convince Mother Superion to let you stay. And you will stay. They will have to drag your body from this order before you will ever quit.

All that was too much to dump on a stranger, a man she would likely see around the small town if she did get to stay. In a language, she still needed to be more confident in her pronunciation or vocabulary to get across any of that accurately. So, instead, she settles on disclosing “Soy nueva.”  

“Las hermanas no pagan.” He smiled like it was the hundredth time he’d reminded one of the women from the Convent that their money was no good in his bakery.

Beatrice figured it likely was. It was a kindness she felt she hadn’t yet earned. So instead of listening to the man, she took a few euros from her pocket and held them up to the man before placing them in the tip jar. She smiles as he shakes his head at the unnecessary gesture, flipping the towel back over his shoulder casually as he does. “¡Buenos días!”

Beatrice is halfway out the door when she realizes, for all her confidence getting off the bus, she had no idea where she was going. Pausing in the middle of the frame, she turns back around, bell smacking against the glass, stopping the baker from returning to the kitchen.

“ ¿Hermana? ”

Beatrice cringes a bit as the words tumble out of her mouth. Her lack of situational awareness was truly embarrassing. “ Um, ¿Donde esta-” But before she can even finish the question, he’s smiling at her knowingly as he points to his left as if to say, ‘That way. Can’t miss it.’ His smile only widens, making his eyes glimmer in amusement when the bells ring loudly, presumably just up the street.  

“Gracias.” Beatrice turns to look down the street, shaking her head when she sees what could only be the gates of a colossal convent. She really could have found it on her own. Yet here she was, not thinking things through. The closer the time gets to when she’s supposed to step through those gates, the more she can feel her heart beating frantically and her chest tightening with each passing minute.  

“Con mucho gusto. ¡Mucha mierda, Hermana! ”   It was a little puzzling at first, but she vaguely remembered that it was a version of ‘break a leg.’ Beatrice feels her cheeks heat up as he winks knowingly at her like he didn’t just say the Spanish equivalent of “shit” to a young woman hopeful of becoming a nun. To him, the young woman looked much too young to be getting into the kinds of things those nuns got into. Yet still here she was.

And though she took the time to enjoy the treat, there she was. She was standing in front of those grand black gates to the convent. Through the bars, she could see women in various combinations of gear. Sisters were walking around in navy habits, chatting idly. Women in black workout gear were returning from a run. A few more were in what looked to be Gi’s sparing.

This was it.

This was what she’d worked so hard to graduate early for. She worked so hard to skip her final year of school for an opportunity to serve the church like this. A chance to make up for what she was. To maybe finally do something worthwhile with her life.

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[rejectingrepublicans]

[brainrotcharacters]

makes me giggle to think of X2 Logan meeting dp&w Logan when this is a thing

[republicansaredomesticterrorists]

[foxprints]

Now available as 5x7 prints!

[sapphiretanto]

(CW: Ranting/Venting; the fic I am talking about will not be named, nor will I give the author’s name away. Please send me a message if you want to know)

Did we even watch the same show? He’s not a caring, big brother? He’s a stick in the mud?

The only thing I’ll give you is that he’s full of himself… because he’s an idiot teenager with badass fighting skills and weapons. Of course he’s gonna be a cocky little shit. Most people with Leo’s skill would be.

I’m going to assume that you mean part of the time he’s full of himself. But if you mean all the time, then I’ll correct you there. More often than not, he is actually very insecure— a very common trait among the Leonardo’s.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be leading the team?”

“It’s all my fault. I let the guys down!”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again”

“I’d just hold you back. You guys train, I’ll watch. It’s all I’m good for anyway…”

“I’m a liability to the whole team”

“I won’t be much help out there anyway”

Leo is a perfectionist and this shows in the way he leads— coming across as bossy or arrogant— and how he treats himself. The guy just got out of a three-month coma after he had the shit kicked out of him and what does he say when he’s by himself after everyone else went to look for Raph in the woods?

He holds himself to impossibly high standards— both placed by himself and some of the misguided lessons he was taught.

Alright, now for the stick in the mud part. Leo is a fucking dork (I mean this in the most affectionate sense). He loves Space Heroes to the point where he quotes it during missions. He likes puns, is fascinated by Japan culture, martial arts, meditation, etc. He trains very hard to excel at ninjutsu/martial arts— both so he can help his brothers in combat and because it’s a passion of his. That doesn’t make him boring in the slightest. He has some of the most ridiculous dialogue throughout the series:

“Alright guys. Let’s put Old Mother Hubbard back in her cupboard!”

“Hello!? Space Heroes!? Captain Ryan! Didn’t you see the episode where they fought the Cortexecons?!”

“Awesome! Oh, this is so rad! I feel like Van Helsing, but way cooler than him, actually. Way more rad than Van Helsing”

“Alright guys, prepare to dish out the mighty wrath of justice!”

“We don’t know he’s gonna do anything bad. He could be on his way… to… church!”

“I… don’t really have a pinky?”

He can’t lie for shit which leads to him saying silly things:

“Be cool. Be cool.” *answers phone* “uh.. hey man! What’s… what’s going down? *Raph says they better have not watched the Crognard finale without him and Leo laughs nervously* W-who, us?! Of course not! But I bet if we did watch it, we would have found it anti-climate… climactic!”

*gets asked by Chloe if there’s other turtles like him* “Nope! Uh-uh! Just me! Mr. Imaginary Talking Turtle!”

“He’s just kidding, Mrs. O’Neil. Kirby’s…uh.. on a.. safari! In Puerto Rico! And he won’t be back for a while.”

And he’s not the goody-two shoes and suck up people think of him as. He has gone behind Splinter’s back on several occasions, snuck out both willingly and unwillingly. The guy dressed in black and caused petty crime with his sister and her girlfriend Shinigami because he was pissed off at Shredder.

As for not being a caring brother. You mean this guy?! This Leo?! ⬇️

Couldn’t be this Leo, right? There’s no way he’s a mother hen— being both doting and getting after his brothers.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full!”

“Mikey, you never cease to amaze me”

“Leo never left your side” — April when Raph was reduced to a mere plant by The Creep

“I’m sorry about Spike, Raphael.”

“Donnie, don’t lose sight of who you are!”

“Nice job, D”

“Donnie, the go karts worked great. Nice job!”

“Mikey, come on! It’s not that bad! And Raph promises not to make fun of you anymore.”

Not the Leo that uses all his strength and stays behind in the Technodrome holding Kraang Prime so his brothers and April can escape. Not that Leo who while just barely awake after a coma goes after a mutated monster in the woods to get his family back. Not that Leo who forced himself to stay calm so the others can be calm while they go through the most insane shit, or cannot grieve in the moment because he has to ensure the rest of their safety, so his focus during missions and battle is scattered in different places. Because he couldn’t possibly help bandage their wounds, worry when they’re hurt and not give up on a family member. Not Leo preventing Donnie from straight up unaliving Don Vizioso because Leo doesn’t want his younger brother to do what he did and change him like it changed him. He doesn’t sacrifice himself over and over because he loves his brothers, right? Right??

[tweetsofyj]

[heisabanana]

when the persona golden is 4

little birthday stickers and folder for a friend

[hubristicassholefight]

Hubristic Assholes tourney Round 1 part 3a

Herbert West (Re-Animator, both book and film) vs Victor Frankenstein (Frankenstein)

Propaganda below cut

Herbet

Literally has a whole monologue about defying god in the second movie. (https://youtu.be/BOt0rRhofuI?si=o7wCwAaT347jUmcp)

Playing God by defying death itself

Victor

"ouh im gonna create life from scratch and it's gonna be Pog and Slay" WRONG it wwas FUCKT . he didnt give that thang enough SKIN even . and then it killed his whole family, well he is just a silly guy .

Textbook definition of fuck around and find out. To his credit - yeah, he was a genius who sped through All Of Chemistry Classes in 2 years and revolutionized the field of natural sciences at his university while he was barely 20, arguably invented biochemistry (and then never told anyone) and created a human(ish) being from scratch (and again, never told anyone), BUT Honestly I don't even need to say anything here, I can literally just paste a direct quote: "Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world. A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs." He saw LIFE AND DEATH ITSELF as just a STARTING POINT ffs Needless to say, the "find out" stage hit him like a freight train making the rest of his life just one long trauma conga line until he died completely alone before even hitting 30 Give it up to our king of hubris, Greatest pathetic wet meow meow of gothic literature tbh

thought he could be better than God by making his own man so that he could later bring people (his mother) back to life. whole thing blew up in his face cause 1. he made it way too big and way too able to kill people 2. he immediately got scared of it and ran away 3. he left it alone without teaching it how to actually function as a human, further adding to the murderous tendencies.

Thinks making life is easy. Does not consider the life he made actually worth anything, He's like the platonic ideal of a shitty parent who wants recognition for Being A Parent without actually having the ability to care for someone else, just taken to a cartoonish extreme. Look where that got him.

Tries to create a whole ass person from scratch. It does not go well; The guy needs no introduction. Guy tries creates a whole human person cobbled together from dead bodies, breathes life into it, immediately abandons his creation, and proceeds to have his life completely destroyed when said creation goes on a rampage of revenge. Subtitle of the book is literally the 'Modern Prometheus.'

Do I really have to explain this one. He made a Guy. He played God. Then the Guy killed his entire family and (boy)friend; He is Pathetic

Victor wanted to play god. Created monster. Monster tried to kill him. Killed his brother, his gf, and his BFF, and came after him. A horror icon, and the modern archetype of the mad scientist in fiction. He's a pathetic pissbaby that needs to be punched. Cunt dies in the end get rekked lol.

I mean come on, Please he's like the guy

[sshurkis]

fuck atyd, idk why this thing is still popular💀

[kater-tot66]

FIRST TIME SPN WATCH THROUGH HERE

DEAR GOD I DID NOT EXPECT FUCKIN ZACHABASTARD TO KISS MARY'S MEMORY ON THE NECK ANDTHENCALLHERAMILF

DAY RUINED I FUCKING HATE THIS MAN GET AWAY GROSS EWEWEWEW

[clegfly]

“Of course you have an Other Brother,” he says, waving off her denial as he opens some nearby cabinets. “Who else would I be if I wasn’t?”

Small WIP sketch of the Other Brother from IDKSomethingClever99’s fic “Mari in the Pink Palace”!!! OMORI and Coraline are my two biggest interests ever so this fic was like winning the lottery for me. Not to mention how good it is… please go read it ragh

[anotherfandomtrash]

That just how it is

[butmakeitgayblog]

I don’t remember if there was a 3rd part of the bet in CI

It's in the works!

See? It tissss coming. And so are they 😌

[foxprints]

Now available...

Prints, keychains, and stickers are now up on my shop for pre-order! I'll be adding buttons in the next few days as well!

[jennyyy007]

PLAYTHING 🗝️ pt. 7

Chores

Cw: Violence, female whumpee, male whumper, punishment, humiliation, degradation, cruel whumper, slave wumpee

———————————————————————

For the whole morning Mary has been cleaning. And not just doing dishes or tidying up a bit. Actually making everything look crystal clean. Her knees are all blue because she spent almost two hours on the floor, scrubbing it with an old toothbrush, sponges and rags to get every spec of dirt out.

She cleaned the sink, did all of the dishes, cleaned the dust off of all the of the furniture. And even cooked two meals for him. Banana pancakes topped with fruits and sirup, as well as freshly squeezed orange juice for breakfast. And a steak with vegetables for the side as his lunch.

And the most humiliating thing.. he didn’t finish his food completely. Leaving almost half of it. And she had to throw it away. The girl hasn’t had anything to eat for four days and she had to throw his food in the trash.

As Mary was cleaning the house, she actually noticed quite a lot of things. A framed graduation note hanging in the living room. There’s a name on it.

Isaac Whitlock. He graduated law school. He’s… a lawyer… The same man who has been torturing, abusing and almost killing her at some points.. is a lawyer.

When she was finally done with cleaning at around 3pm, the girl quickly sits down on the couch, just needing a few minutes to breathe.

Isaac is sitting on the big living room chair, sipping on some hot tea while reading a book.

Is this what he’s doing while she was sobbing down in the basement. Calling for him to let her out.. give her food or clothing? He looks so professional. He looks smart, mature and maybe even.. kind. But in reality… he’s a monster.

“Mary.. who allowed you to take a break?”

He asks, not looking up from his book.

“I-.. I completely all the tasks you gave me sir..”

Mary speaks, stuttering heavily. Looking over at the man, a worried expression on the girls face. Isaac now puts his book down, slowly placing the bookmark on the page where he’s left off before sitting it on the small table next to the chair.

“Yeah. Who said you could take a break?”

The man says, getting up from the chair and stepping closer to the girl. Making her slightly squirm back.

“I-I- s-sorry I-“

Mary stutters before she gets cut off by his hand around her throat. Gripping it tightly as he slaps her twice.

The poor girl immediately starts crying, trying to reach up, wanting to stop him but he doesn’t let her, quickly pushing her back on the couch.

“Shut up! You’re gonna beg me to give you more work when you’re finished- ungrateful pig!”

He yells, grabbing a fistful of the girls hair, ripping some of it out in the process as she makes more sobs.

“I-.. I-I’m so-s-sorry! Please- p-please I didn’t- I-“

The man punches her face, her chest and her stomach. Making her gasp and cough heavily.

After around a minute of beating the poor girl, Isaac pulls her off the couch, gripping her hair tightly before letting go. Mary lands on her back, sobbing. His boot digs in her lower belly as he starts rubbing it down roughly. Before stepping on her face.

His usual disgusting smirk appearing on his face.

“Go make me some coffee.”

He orders before stepping away again, sitting back down in his chair like nothing happened.

Mary sobs. Crimson liquid dripping down her face as she tries to get up.

“You have three minutes.”

—————————————————————

It’s 9pm in the evening. Isaac requested chicken burgers with some home made wedges and a glass of wine to the side. In fact Mary was never that good of a chef.. only having helped her mom before. But she did a pretty good job. Having spent two hours in the kitchen to make them. So she is pretty proud of herself. She sets the table, trying to make everything look as tidy as possible before she steps over in the living room, where Isaac is currently watching TV. The girl walks over to him, making a small bow before starting to talk.

“S.. sir your dinner is ready”

Isaac slowly reaches for the remote before turning the TV off. Getting up from the couch and starting to head to the dining room. He sits down, inspecting the food for a few seconds before picking it up and taking a bite, chewing it, and after a few seconds he puts the burger down again.

“Tastes like shit. Fetch me a pack of ramen will you?”

Mary frowns slightly, taking a few seconds to think what to reply.

“I-I don’t understand I-I f-..followed the recipe-“

She says shakily as the man unexpectedly slams his fist on the table, making it shake just before picking up the empty wineglass and throwing it at the girl. It shatters, breaking before collapsing to the floor. A few pieces of glass stick in the girls skin, some pieces even in her face.

Mary stumbles back as she sobs before Isaac rises from his seat, taking slow steps over to the girl. The shattered glass crushing more by his weight.

Mary keeps her head low, tears starting to run down her cheeks. She was scared… she didn’t want to get hurt again..

“I-.. I’m sorry-..”

He slaps her before walking past her. Not showing a single care in the world as he walks back to the living room.

“Clean up the glass. Go make me my food and clean the dishes.”

—————————————————————

Finally the day was over. It’s 1 am. Mary washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen in general before having to sit on the floor beside the couch. So if Isaac needed anything she could get it for him. After the man watched five episodes of that comedy show, he turned off the tv and got up.

“Come on. You’re going downstairs.”

Mary gets up, extremely exhausted from the whole day. She’s starving and weak. Her body hurts from the beatings she received today so she’s exited to get some sleep for the night.

The man waits until Mary was in front of him before walking her over to the basement door, opening it. The girl steps in front of him again, already putting a foot on the step before she can feel a hand on her back and someone swiftly pushing her down. The girl stumbles, letting out a quick scream before her body collides with the wooden stairs, bouncing off of them, making her crash to the floor.

The girl whimpers. Her vision blurry for a few seconds just before she makes a sob.

It’s her arm. Bent and the bone is slightly peaking out. Mary starts to make loud cries, shaking as she looks up at her captor.

“Aw.. your other arm just healed sweetheart..”

The man says mockingly before grabbing her exact broken arm and starting to drag her over the floor to her cell.

“P-please- a-ah-! O-oh- n-no ple- p-pleaseee!”

The girl sobs heavily before the man quickly drags her in her cell and shutting the door, smirking down at her before chuckling.

“go on. Take off the dress and give it to me”

Mary makes another cry but she obeys. Using her non injured arm to take off her dress, shaking all over. She’s struggling for around five minutes but her captor doesn’t move. Just amusing himself. After she was done she holds out the dress to him and he quickly takes it, trowing it on the floor away from the cell.

“Good girl… now… sweet dreams.”

He says mockingly as he steps over to the basement door, ignoring Marys whimpers and sobs. Shutting the door roughly before the light switches off.

———————————————————————

@a-living-canvas @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees