#people tag cults when they have it explained to them how bad they are. why won't people tag gangs and organised crime

[irawhiti]

i'm sorry about people being insensitive, it hurts a lot when i see people making "edgy" jokes about traumatizing things they assume are fair game for jokes because they think it's too crazy to ACTUALLY happen to someone

yeah honestly it's like... i'm genuinely glad that people don't have trauma around organised crime and shit but it's an extremely common horrific experience. the only reason more people don't talk about it is they're scared to. like i don't say more about shit for a reason regardless of if it was my choice. like, people assume it's so far out there that people might be traumatised by these things, they're this theoretical Other. i see it a lot with brba content for example which, with all due respect, i literally cannot fucking watch if i don't wanna be a nervous wreck for a month.

[realisticfanfictions]

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 3.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One, Part Two.

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: This one is slightly shorter, but it expands more on Y/N's chartacter and finally introduces her to the rest of the crew! BTW, this series may or may not have turned me into a Taz Skyler fan.

Word Count is 3,475. Hope you enjoy!

Tag list (comment to join!): @siriuslyblackonback

Did you overreact? No. Did you feel bad when you saw the look on Sanji's face as he watched you leave the kitchen? Why the fuck would you? You took a left down the almost endless corridors that made up the Baratie. It wasn't your fault that some kid thought you were a pirate, or 'acted like one', whatever the hell that meant. No, you did know what that meant, and it pissed you off. He meant that you were aggressive, or uncouth, or whatever other adjective fit the slobbering, passed out pirates that littered the Baratie's deck come morning. The same ones that spent the entire night making disgusting comments about how they'd like to force themselves onto the waitresses, or pull a gun out just for the hell of it. But you know what? It wasn't your fault you were like this. You were a byproduct of the most fucked up parts of the world, forged from the suffering of years past and created into what you were by the Devil himself.

And it certainly wasn't your fault when that same kid, the foolish, naive and sheltered brat who had the gull to say that you acted like that, tried to recruit your boyfriend into that cult they called piracy and you got upset. "Freedom, my ass." You hissed under your breath, venom seeping off of every word. You weren't a good person, but at least you didn't try to rip off a restaurant under the guise of being the 'Future King of the Pirates'. You didn't indoctrinate people into that abhorrent lifestyle and pretend that it was all about adventure, and not about pillaging and murder. And you certainly don't pretend that pirates are innocent, little fucking sailors on the high sea singing sea shanties all day long, when all they're good for is taking,

and taking,

and TAKING!

With a yell, you drove your fist into the wall, sending shards of wood scattering in a million directions. You didn't even realise that you were shaking until you fell against the wall, your legs morphing into some gelatinous abomination that couldn't even keep you upright. Did you overreact? The hole in the wall was your answer.

One, you took a deep breath. You're lucky you have a whipped boyfriend who you've somehow conned into putting up with you even though you're fucking nuts.

Two, you exhaled. No, you both have issues and it's pointless to criticise or get hung up on the small things.

Three, your lungs filled with air. You're a fucking disgrace, how dare you storm out there like that?

Four, the carbon left your lungs. You'll need to explain yourself, and apologise for your outburst. You are human and you make mistakes, Sanji will understand. He's good like that.

Five, the air burned as you breathed it in. The amount of mistakes you make is incredible. Your entire existence is one big fucking mistake.

Breathe, (Y/N). Count to five. Breathe in air and breathe out your toxicity. You were a bad person. But, you are stronger than your past, and you deserve better than to be known for your mistakes.

You repeated it like a mantra, a prayer you recited more often than you'd like to admit. The tips of your fingers found themselves entangled in your hair. You overreacted. Why the fuck do you keep overreacting?

"Are you okay?" The voice jolted you back to your senses. With a quiet gasp slipping from your lips, you snapped your head to the source of the sound. There stood someone you vaguely remember serving - a young woman about your age with hair as orange as tangerines. She had a wary look on her face and stood a fair distance from you, but seemed at least somewhat concerned.

You couldn't help but laugh dryly. "I'm alright, thank you." When you untangled your hands from your hair, you tried to ignore the strands that came along with it. "How can I help you?"

Her eyes flicked up and down. "Out of the two of us, I think you're the one who needs help." She paused. "You're our waitress, right? The one who helped us get the table."

By the time she was done speaking, you had pushed yourself off the wall and tugged at the hem of your shirt to drag out any crinkles. "I'm not exactly the model employee at the moment, but that's me. I'm not working currently, but you can always ask if you need something."

A contemplative look crossed her face. "If you're off the clock, why don't you come have a drink?"

You held up a hand. "Sorry, but I'm not really meant to be-"

"It's just a drink." She stated and walked a couple feet toward you. "Just as thanks for the table, and you look like you need one."

Her eyes were honest, and although you could see something hidden far behind them like a memory she was trying to forget, your shoulders dropped and you nodded. "That would be lovely, thank you."

She smiles and turns to walk toward what you now realised was the sounds of the bar. With how close you were to well-over one-hundred patrons, you weren't surprised that you were found practically hyperventilating in the corner. You were, however, glad that it was this kind stranger. Or perhaps she wasn't kind at all, you weren't sure yet.

The orange-haired woman brings you past passed out sailors to the back of the deck where the silhouettes of two men already were. "You're (Y/N), right?" She asked as she took a seat and offered you a glass from the table. "I'm Nami." She pointed to the man in the pirate costume noisily slurping out of a ceramic bowl - the Ultimate Tropical Dream, your mind reminded you. "That's Ussop," She then pointed without looking to the man beside her who's eyes hadn't left you since you approached. "And that's Zoro." She nodded as she took a sip of her drink. "Take a seat."

You hesitated, but sat down. Your eyes naturally drifted to the green-haired man, Zoro. "Pleased to make your acquaintance." While you spoke to the group, its true intention was a question. Did he know you?

Zoro sat back and hummed. "Likewise." He grunted and took a swing. No. Then his gaze finally broke from you to the other male. "Pace yourself."

Ussop moaned into his drink and slurped. "I don't think there's any liquor in this, it tastes just like candy."

"Last time I said that, I woke up face down under a table." The swordsman muttered both as an admission of fault and a warning to the naive pirate.

You nodded, taking a quick sip of your own drink. "The Ultimate Tropical Dream has four-seven ounces of rum, four of vodka, and seven of filler. Fucking filthy fads get you shit-faced faster than a fleeting face, but Fred can help with that. He's the fourth one down and sometimes he won't do it, but just needs some persuasion. So when you want to get a Tropical Dream, you force the four to pour four-fourths Warmth North, four-sevens froth, seven-fours broth, no cloth, henceforth no wroth. Got it?"

All three stared in your direction, blinking. "I... think I'm fine, thanks." Ussop replied and took another sip.

"I need a drink." Zoro mutters and brought his glass up to his face. His eyes crossed over to Nami. "That glass have gold on the bottom, or what?" At her confused expression, he tilts his head. "You haven't stopped staring at it."

She looked over at you, and you shrugged. "I'm just a waiter."

Her gaze lingered on you for a second, before going back to Zoro. "You don't think what Luffy did was messed up?"

The swordsman paused and set his drink down. "Yeah. He should've told us." You took a sip out of your own drink as they talked. "But in case you haven't noticed, we've been making enemies everywhere we go. Psycho-clowns, killer butlers. What's a vice-admiral gonna do to us?" You almost choked on your drink.

"No, you don't get it." Nami's face shifted between emotions. "I can't get caught, not when I'm so close-" She cut herself off and stared at her cup for a second, before getting up. "Who's ready for another drink? My treat."

Zoro hummed. "My favourite kind of drink." He watched as she walked off, and his gaze turned back to you. "You seem a bit lost."

You huffed. "All I know is my drinking partners are being hunted down by a vice-admiral, of course I'm fucking lost."

For some reason, that caused the uptight man to let out a small chuckle. "Drinking partners, huh?" He commented and swirled the contents of his glass. "Haven't had a drinking partner in a while."

As he spoke, you finished off your glass and set it down with a wince. "Me neither, Sanji's great but can't handle anything with booze in it to save his life."

"That's that waiter boyfriend of yours." He said as he looked at your finished glass and took a sip of his drink. "Where's he now?"

You shrugged. "Your boss tried to recruit him, so I did the mature thing and stormed out."

A smile grew on his face. "Really? That's Luffy for you. Is he joining?"

"No offense, but I don't think he'd wanna run with your type."

At that, his eyes squinted ever so slightly. "My type?"

"Pirates," You reminded him. "He's not really the pillaging type."

"Neither are we."

You hummed. "It's a wonder how you can pay for all this then." You pointed to Ussop, who's now beginning to blink very slowly. "A Tropical Dream costs at least seventy-five berri without all that fancy shit added to it, and everything needs to be paid upfront. I'm looking at this table and... I see about three-hundred berri worth of drinks? Not including other drinks the waitresses must've taken. And I'm pretty sure pirates don't have normal jobs, and you don't seem like hired guns." You leaned back, staring into his eyes. "So if you're not plundering, then who is?"

Zoro stared at you with an unreadable expression. His eyes ghosted over your form, lingering near your thigh where you kept your gun, before lifting back up to your face. He looked away and finished his drink.

When Nami got back, the tense atmosphere was lifted and you were able to properly enjoy yourself. True to the swordsman's words, Ussop was under the table before he finished his second Vodka Sunrise. He giggled and you had to catch him as he slid down the couch, righting him up with a laugh. “I'm fine.” He slobbed out, his words almost incomprehensibly slurred.

You shook your head with a smile plastered on your face, pushing him into his seat. “I'm pretty sure you're not.” You replied with a small chuckle.

"What'd I tell you?" Zoro asked after he finished his beer with a sigh. "You can't handle your liquor at all."

You smiled and took a sip of your drink. "Sanji can't either, he gets a red face just smelling it."

The shit-faced man, who apparently was a sniper according to Nami, puffed out his chest. "Hey! I can... drink." He pushed off of you and wobbled to his feet. You held out your hands as you watched him stumble forward. "I'm going to get us... more drinks!" He slurred and almost tripped over his feet, but managed to walk himself over in the vague direction of the bar.

You laughed and took a gulp of your drink. "He's certainly a character."

Zoro nodded, face split with his own smile. "Ussop's spirited, but not good with spirits." You both shared a small chuckle and went to drink, but frowned at your empty glass. Hearing Nami chuckle, you looked back up and laughed at the completely distracted Ussop who had begun to drunkenly sway his body around.

"He does have a certain grace about him. Like a frantic, uncoordinated..."

"Sea slug." Zoro contributed with a smirk.

Nami nodded. "That's it. That's what he's like." Her eyes remain fixed on him. "Look at him. Like he doesn't have a care in the world."

Her tone was unusual to say the least, and you placed your glass back down on the table. Zoro was the first to speak. "What are you carrying around that's so heavy?" Whether it was the alcohol, or him feeling more comfortable around you, he didn't so much as look your way when asking the navigator.

Nami's eyes flashed between the both of you. "You have no idea."

You scoffed and pinched a chip from the centre of the table. "You'd be surprised. You're an open book."

Zoro nodded. "And I bet I know more about you than you do about me."

Nami quirked an eyebrow at the both of you. "Yeah right, you both are open books."

"Care to prove it?" When he prompted her, she recoiled slightly but otherwise didn't have much of a reaction. He grabbed the bottle of rum from the table and poured it into some empty shot glasses. "Whoever guesses something right about the other person, that person has to drink." He looked over at you and nudged a glass in your direction. "You in?"

You shrugged. "Sure."

But it seemed as though Nami forgot you were there. She leaned toward Zoro and forced a smile. "Go ahead, tell me all about myself."

He thought about it for a second, then spoke. "I bet you grew up in a big city, running schemes, hanging out in swanky bars like this one."

"You must be thirsty." Her tone dripped with venom.

"You're saying I'm wrong?"

She paused for a second. "I grew up in a small village. Barely a village. Just a handful of houses in the centre of a tangerine grove. Drink." You watched her as she spoke, a dreamy look in her eyes before she came back to reality.

He set down his shot glass. "Your turn."

Nami smirked. "I had you read all the way back in Orange town. I'll bet you didn't have any friends as a kid."

"I had friends."

"Swords don't count."

Zoro was quiet. "I had one friend."

The orange-haired woman's smile grew sad. "Hell, one more than I had." She also went quiet. "Drink."

Zoro grew a smile on his face. "Drink." They both had a shot, then he turned to you. "You're quiet, all of a sudden."

You forced a smile. "Just letting you two bond over your miserable childhoods."

Nami let out a scoff, but a smile wormed its way onto her face. "Fine. I'll bet you had a miserable childhood too?"

"Be more specific."

Zoro hummed. "So it was a miserable childhood?" He smirked and looked away, waited a moment, then returned his gaze. "I bet the reason you hate pirates is 'cause you had a really strict marine dad."

You chuckled and shook your head, the comment catching you off guard. "Can't be further from the truth." You replied and raised your shot glass. "Drink."

Nami piped up. "I'll bet you hate pirates because one raided your village."

"I didn't grow up in a village," You gestured to her. "It was privately owned land about three hours from any major landmark. The only way to get there was by trekking through miles of swamp filled with crocodiles the size of ships, or by docking on a tiny piece of coast hidden by whirlpools."

She finished her drink. "Privately owned land?"

"Nobles." You replied. "They owned half the island, and owned all the business on the other half. They were pretentious, entitled and made us live in houses no bigger than a shitter, but they were good people." You pushed down the memory. "Anyway, I'm sick of being asked stuff. I'm going to guess." You cleared your throat and looked to Zoro. "I bet that you grew up never having a real connection with anyone."

He tilted his head and was silent for a moment. "Define 'real connection.'"

You adjusted yourself in your seat. "You've never loved someone and you've never felt loved. That's why it's hard for you to trust people, you've never had anyone to trust."

He gave a half-shrug and took a shot. "Lucky."

You smiled and looked at Nami. "And I bet that you did something you're not proud of."

Her smile didn't fade, but the genuineness of it did. "How do you mean?"

"You have a look in your eye. Concealed guilt. You think you're a bad person because you've done something you think is bad."

"Well, actions speak louder than words."

"You're wrong." You respond flatly. "A child rapist can give to charity, and a serial killer can help a little old lady down a flight of stairs. It doesn't mean they're a good person. A Saint can trip someone, and a child can bully their friend. It doesn't mean they're bad people."

"So, if it's a mistake it can be excused."

"No. It's intent. That's why we forgive people when they trip us, or if someone accidentally splashes us with water - it's not their intent to cause offense or harm. If you don't intend to harm people, then you're not a bad person. if you, say, wish to create a more peaceful world for people to live in, but you intend to enslave others to do so, then you're a bad person."

"Then, what if by doing something important, you have to do something bad?" The look in her eye was fierce, but you could see past that.

"That's different again. If you're on a rescue mission to save orphans or puppies and you're dangling from a ledge with a rope connecting you to another person, wouldn't you have to cut them loose?"

"But, you've still killed them."

"You don't know that. Without having you fall on top of them, they could survive and reunite with you after you've saved the kids or whatever the fuck it is. You're not a terrible person, you're a good person who had to do a terrible thing. You didn't want to." You gestured to her with your drink in hand. "I think you had your orphans you had to save, and you had to cut someone loose."

You both stared at each other, the atmosphere suddenly becoming tense and unbearable.

"Hey guys, meet my new best friend." Ussop suddenly landed on your lap and looked behind him. "What'd you say your name was again?"

You looked behind you, and a pit formed in your stomach. There stood a man in a decorative coat with a cross hanging from his neck. You recognised him instantly, and judging from Zoro's expression, he did too. "Which one of you is Monkey D. Luffy?"

Nami, finally tearing her eyes from you, smiled. "Who wants to know?"

Zoro straightened. "You're Dracule Mihawk."

Your hand went toward your gun, but a set of piercing eyes halted your movement. It was like being held in chains, and your fingers refused to move. He loomed over you menacingly. "I have business with your captain. If you know what's good for you, you'll hand him over."

"We don't know anyone named Luffy. Right, Zoro?" As smart as she looked, she caught on quick. Zoro rose to his feet, and you were released from your invisible restraints when Mihawk's eyes ghosted over to him. "Zoro?"

The swordsman stepped toward him. "I've been following your career since I was a child. It's an honour to finally meet you, sir."

"Thank you."

He walked past the older swordsman. "Which is why it pains me to inform you that tomorrow, you're going to die."

Your body was thrown into shock, and Nami spoke instead. "What?"

He ignored the both of you and turned to face Mihawk. "I, Roronoa Zoro, challenge you to a duel to the death."

All of you sobered up quickly, and you grabbed your gun. But Mihawk ignored you, turning to face your drinking companion with the tilt of his head. "I've never heard of you."

"They call me the Demon Pirate Hunter," Like a predator analysing his prey, Mihawk's eyes ghosted over his form. "But my lifelong dream is to best you in single combat, and become the greatest swordsman in the world."

"You're serious?"

"Accept my challenge. You'll see how serious I am."

Mihawk paused for a moment, then nodded. "Very well." His strides were long as he approached the young man. "Tomorrow at dawn. And when I'm done with you, pirate hunter, I'll take your captain." The older swordsman's face didn't change, but his walk was different. He disappeared into the shadows of night.

Nami's face was twisted into one of horror. "What have you done?"

A/N: Wow! This chapter gave me some trouble! It was originally going to be completely different, but the flow was off and it honestly would have ruined Zoro's character. So I ended up having to rewrite all of it. I've been slightly teasing it, but next part will have more action in it! I just wanted to establish character relationships and actually give Y/N reasons to do things, as well as get more of her motivation/backstory out there.

[lizzie-is-here]

lonely is a man without love

part iii- cairo

“i am a deserted sky, and you are the moonlight” - manoj muntashir

summary: you and marc head to cairo, and you make a shocking discovery in the form of a giant skeleton bird

wordcount: 4k

warnings: language, violence, vague references to the red room, drinking, slight pining, a saddening lack of steven

a/n: yuhhh posting this before my bday tomorrow so i can get crunk af. ALSO TAYLOR AND JOE? sobbing. but i hope y’all enjoy love y’all sm sm sm 🫶

taglist: @thefictionalgemini @ravenz-hope @undiscl0sed-d3sir3s @iateall-yourcookies @disregardedplant @sunflowers-4 @yellowumbrelllaaaa @bagsy-not-it @local-mr-frog @thescarletredwitch @jupitersmoon167 @creamecafe @stevenknightmarc @theluciansystem @kingtwhiddleston @spider-biter @mxltifxnd0m @sgt-morgan @no-dont-be-suspicious @onzayhe @namorslit @i-cant-write-for-shit

i’m sorry it won’t let me tag some of y’all 😭

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Marc pokes and prods for more intel on your profession the whole plane ride to Cairo.

Honestly, it’s more of a harsh interrogation at this point, with him making sure you aren’t working for any remnant of the Red Room that managed to stay alive. Once he’s satisfied and his temper cools, you explain why you were sent.

“Righteous” justice or not, he was a danger, killing random people all over Europe and shaking off hits that no normal person should be able to. And the team liked to keep tabs on enhanced beings.

“So the actual Avengers are worried about me? It’s not like I’m going after them,” he says.

You laugh, loud and obnoxious. “Worried? No, you misunderstand. It’s more of a public safety precaution. Just making sure all of our loose ends are tied.”

“Loose ends being…?”

“Hydra. The Red Room-“ You gesture to yourself. “Aliens. Things like that.”

“Yeah…” Marc says, hesitant. “‘Things like that’, sure.”

You lean over a bit, scanning the plane from your aisle seat to check for threats. All you see are tired passengers, dozing off or absorbed in the small TVs on the backs of the seats.

Once satisfied, you turn back to Marc.

“If you want to sleep, now’s a good time. Once we get to Cairo, we’re not going to have much time to rest,” you say, nodding to the TV. 3 hours away.

He eyes you, a bit suspiciously, but closes his eyes anyway. With a sigh, you stand up, snaking through the aisles to the bathroom. You grab your phone and tap a favorited contact.

“(Y/N)?”

“Tasha,” you greet. “Is it a bad time?”

Your friend shakes her head, holding up the phone to show the group. “We just finished a movie, what’s up?”

“So… Marc Spector is here. He has DID, and Steven Grant is an alter, not an alibi. Things are getting serious.”

She nods. “That explains a lot.” You’d been relaying your experiences to them for weeks, and they’d shared in your confusion. Her tone turns more stern. “How serious?”

“Cults, magic, something about a scarab? It’s out of my expertise.”

“Do you need backup?” Steve’s voice calls from the other side of the couch.

You shake your head. “No, it’s nothing I can’t handle. It’s just fucking weird.”

A chorus of laughter goes up on the other end of the phone and you smile, rolling your eyes when a knock lands on the bathroom door.

“I just wanted to update you. We’re heading to Cairo now, so…” You shrug. “I will maybe get some souvenirs.”

The knocking grows more incessant.

“Will you hold on? Your shits can wait!” you call. Turning your attention back to the phone, you sigh. “I’ve got to go. This person is going to kick the door down.”

Nat nods and mock-salutes you. “Have fun, stay safe. You can always call, (Y/N).”

With a brief goodbye, you wash your hands and leave, awkwardly waving at the small child who was the source of the knocking. Sitting down, you sigh, listening to the sound of air and propellers.

No sleep for you, you guess.

———————————————————————

When the plane lands and you rush off, you and Marc find the closest hotel and buy separate rooms.

Even after securing the room and stuffing a gun under your pillow, you still sleep lightly. A shattering sound wakes you, bright light from outside invading your eyes, and you curse under your breath as you clamber out of bed.

You slip out of your door and into Marc’s room, gun still gripped in your hand.

He’s sitting on the floor, head in his hands. A mirror is shattered.

“Are you gonna break more mirrors or can we start the day?” you ask. He raises a bottle.

Snatching it from him, you down the last of the fiery liquid and chuck the bottle. It lands somewhere on the ground behind you, brown glass joining the reflective shards on the tile.

He drunkenly laughs, looking up to where you stand.

Your hair is free and rustled, not like how you normally have it. Your hair is always braided or tied back, something he now realizes is a habit from your training.

There’s a gun in your hand, and he can see your finger on the trigger. Marc regrets waking you, partially out of guilt and partially because he’s once more been reminded that you’re a killer. Which reminds him that he’s a killer.

You’re just a much prettier killer. Much.

“Are you going to get up? Or are you going to stare at me like you want to fight me again?” you laugh. “Because it did not go so great for you last time-“

He waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah. ‘M gettin’ up,” he finally says, and you slip away, avoiding glass and heading back to your own room to dress for the day.

Light colors, thin fabrics. Anything to stave off the heat. Once you’re both ready, you and Marc head into the city.

You don’t mention the mysterious absence of Steven, who the vigilante is definitely suppressing. Said vigilante is too busy hunting down his target.

He shakes off the last bit of drunkenness as he leads you up a ladder, not really telling you where you’re going or why. It doesn’t bother you, per se, but you are curious as to how he knows where to go. Sometimes he glances at empty spaces, as if listening to something not quite there.

You have no time to ponder this strange behavior as you leap across rooftops and nimbly avoid obstacles that Marc barrels through.

Your question as to who you’re hunting down is answered when you see a group of men, with one being stabbed in the stomach right as you arrive. Great.

“Oh, shit,” Marc sighs. “You killed him? I needed to talk to that guy. About a dig sight.”

“I don’t think they can un-stab him,” you snort.

He nods. “True. Guess I’m gonna have to talk to you all instead.”

“You’re too late,” one of them growls. “You’re never gonna find Harrow.”

“That’s his name?” You audibly gag. “Eugh, that’s a shit name for a cult leader.”

The guy tosses his knife in the air, following it up by tracing the blade along the ground.

“Ooh,” Marc says. “What, are we dancin’? We fightin’? What are we gonna do?” You step back as one of them lunges, deciding to go easy on them and not use a weapon.

Slamming one against the wall is easy enough, though he gets up soon after and targets Marc instead. One of them, a kid, charges at you.

You disarm him and shove him on his ass, not wasting your time on a literal child. Whipping around, you grab the handle of a knife as it zooms past, a few inches past your shoulder.

“Seriously? Learn to aim,” you say to yourself as you toss the knife off the roof.

It’s going rather well for a street fight. Much more fun, albeit less challenging than any of your Red Room missions.

And then it all goes to shit.

Marc’s got a knife to a guy’s throat, but something changes. A brief moment of silence, and he slams the blunt handle on his head, hard enough for him to bleed.

You let him go to town fighting the other two, who are now much more scared of him. It’s only when he meets your gaze that you realize something is deeply wrong. The hairs on your neck rise.

That’s not Marc. Definitely not Steven.

Your suspicions are confirmed when he leaps from the roof and disappears into the crowd.

What the fuck?

You follow, sprinting down streets as you barely stay on his tail.

When you manage to catch up to Marc, or whoever, he’s staring down a cliff with two dead bodies on the ground. You don’t have to look to know that the third lies at the base of the steep drop.

“Marc? What the fuck just happened?” you demand.

He whirls around, fear in his eyes.

“I- I don’t know. That wasn’t me, or Steven. So what-”

The wind swirling interrupts him, and he stares off at a rusty car.

“And what is so interesting about the car that-”

“We have to find Harrow. What about the other gods?”

You furrow your brow. “What?”

A disembodied voice responds, “To signal with an audience with the gods is to risk their wrath-”

You’ve never pulled out a gun faster. Turning in circles, you find no source. No people, no tech. Your breath quickens, aiming the firearm at random.

“Okay, Marc?” you begin. “I’m all good with cults, and floating scarabs, and even some magic, but you are going to have to explain that voice before I start freaking out.”

The man sighs, glancing back to the air.

“I serve the Egyptian god Khonshu. I’m his… avatar.” The delusional nature of his statement is offset by how naturally he says it, so much so that you do a double-take.

“And you’re just telling me this now? Of course, of course, the first mission I go on after fighting a grape from space has Egyptian gods,” you hiss. “Don’t tell the public, Thor’s got plenty of fangirls that you don’t want.”

The voice sounds again. “I doubt they’d find the same appeal in me.”

You shrug, but when you turn in the direction it came from, you see it. And boy is it ugly.

An absurdly large bird skull, the body covered in mummification wrappings, and a large staff at his side.

“Cool. Cool-cool-cool. You were saying about talking to the other gods?” you mumble, trying to ignore the large bird thing.

“Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?” Marc asks.

“Anger them enough and they’ll imprison me in stone,” the thing -Khonshu- says.

“That doesn’t sound too bad to me,” the man next to you says. You nod in agreement.

“You are very ugly,” you state bluntly.

Evidently unused to people disrespecting him, the god slams his staff on the ground.

“Not many mortals are allowed to even see my form, much less speak to me. It is a blessing.”

“Yes, well, I don’t feel very blessed.”

He turns his attention back to his avatar. “See how well you fare against Harrow without the protection of my healing armor.”

“All right, so what? Do you have any good ideas?”

“I have a bad one.” With that, he disappears.

You glance up, noticing the light dimming. You are met with a solar eclipse. So he can fully move the moon with no regard to its position or that the next eclipse was not for a good while? Huh.

Marc leads you down some stairs, past Khonshu as they talk.

“The gods all have avatars,” he explains. “They’re gathering now, but I don’t know…”

A wall begins to open itself, revealing a tunnel lined with glowing hieroglyphs. “... how to get there,” he finishes.

“I don’t fuck with small, dark, magic tunnels,” you say. “Besides, I don’t think I should join you.”

Marc smiles, visibly nervous. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you shrug.

“You’ll be fine, okay? Meet me here when you’re done, I will wait and see what I can learn about any leads.” It’s the nicest thing you’ve said to him, so he nods, steels his nerves, and heads down the tunnel. As soon as it shuts, you sigh.

“‘Egyptian mythology’,” you whisper to yourself as you type into a search bar. “I guess the black market is a good place to start.”

———————————————————————

You’re wandering through a marketplace when Marc finds you. The Red Room taught you to blend in perfectly, but he manages to spot you when he hears a loud laugh.

In your hand are a drink and a tangerine, which you may or may not have stolen.

“Can you find anything about Senfu’s sarcophagus?” he asks.

“Ouch, no ‘Hi’?” you tease before obliging. As you search with Stark tech assisting you, you glance at Marc. “It didn’t go well.”

“No,” he agrees. “They brought in Harrow, called me crazy, and denied my request.”

“Hmm, some council.” You finally break into a smile, holding your phone flat and projecting your findings. “Mogart. Some black market collector that is conveniently… 24 miles away.”

It takes a while to double-check your intel and find a boat, and the sun has set by the time you’re onboard. Sitting on the end, away from the other groups, Marc watches you, observing the cheerful passengers. A few young girls dance to the loud music, just enjoying the night as you look away.

“You know, I know almost nothing about you,” Marc says.

“I could say the same about you. Other than the file.”

He doesn’t balk at the mention of a debriefing on him, just smirks. “Yeah? Well, you know I work for an Egyptian god, I’ve got a British man living in my head, and the basics. All I know is your name and your-” He gestures at you. “-previous job.”

“You don’t want to know about the Red Room, I promise.” Your smile is a bit bittersweet. “It’s not pretty.”

“My past isn’t either.”

You hum. “The Red Room makes child assassins,” you say, avoiding too much detail. “And… I was cycled through the Black Widow programme three times. I was good at it, too.” That’s all you give up, gauging his reaction.

His gaze softens, not with pity, but with empathy. “How young were you? When you started- The training, I mean.”

The question manages to cause a lump in your throat. This is why you don’t like thinking about it.

You soften the truth when you manage to speak. “I don’t remember a time before it.”

A hand rests on yours. And the two of you sit in silence for a bit, quiet understanding lingering.

“And you?” you say, blinking away the small amount of water building in your eyes. “Did you always work for the bird?”

“No. But I was fighting for a while before I met him. ‘ve done plenty of horrible shit in my life even without him asking me to.”

“And I’ve done horrible things to get out of the Red Room. We have something in common.”

Marc shakes his head. “No, you… you’re out. Hell, you’re working with the Avengers. You’ve made up for it.”

If he knew what you’d done, he wouldn’t be so quick to absolve you. You brush that thought away.

“Well,” you begin, leaning back on the seat. “It’s never too late to start.”

The boat reaches the banks before he can respond or be further distracted by the rings on your hands. Or how your body twists and curves as you quickly jump onto dry land.

“Got an alibi?” you ask, watching Marc stash the duffel bag under the dock.

He hums, shrugging. “A few. Rufino Estrada,” he decides. “What about you?”

“I’m going in as myself. Obviously, not an Avenger, but…” You tie your jacket around your waist, allowing your t-shirt to hide many of your weapons.

On your belt, there are two guns and a handful of knives, but Marc’s eyes are drawn to your wrists. Gauntlets flicker red, electricity in them crackling as you check your weapons.

He speaks after you fire an experimental blast into the ground. “And what’s our story here?”

“You hired me as security, and you are in the business for this sarcophagus. You’re a reputable antiques buyer who previously had ties to Dreykov, the head of the Red Room. I’ve already sent that information ahead.” You flash a charming smile to the man, who still seems a bit on edge. “Mogart made a few small deals with him, so he knows how serious the Widows are. It’s a perfect alibi.”

You two approach a large track, with men jousting under bright lights as music blares from the speakers.

Schooling your expression as you approach a man, you tilt your chin up.

“Where is your boss?” you ask, voice much darker and accented than usual.

“Ma’am-“

“I sent a message earlier. We’re here for the sarcophagus.” The man immediately nods and rushes off as you lead Marc forward. “Don’t drop the act,” you whisper. “Let’s go.”

The guy introduces himself as Bek and guides you toward the track. “He’s excited to meet you. He hasn’t been able to speak to any of the infamous Black Widows after the Red Room fell.”

They were scattered across every continent on Earth, rebuilding their lives. Of course he wouldn’t find them.

“Excuse me a moment. Mr. Mogart will be with you shortly,” Bek says, slipping away.

You lean against the railing, the Widow Bites on your wrists glowing red at the movement.

“So what?” Marc starts. “This joker just puts on El-Mermah games in his backyard for fun?”

You click your tongue. “Ah, who knows? Rich people are weird.”

“Sir, Agent. Come in.” The man, dressed in a dark red robe, greets you with a more than relaxed attitude. “I hear you’re interested in my collection?”

Marc nods. “I hear you have Senfu’s sarcophagus.”

“And who told you that?” This is tedious, you think to yourself. Diplomacy and bargaining, it makes you want to heave.

“The best in the business.” Marc gestures to you.

Mogart seems convinced by this, and you begin to head toward a group of buildings.

“I hope you understand this is more than a collection to me. Preserving history is a responsibility I take very seriously.”

“No one asked you to do that,” you comment mildly, baring your teeth in a sinister grin when he frowns at you. “Yet, here we are.”

Mogart brushes off the thinly veiled insult with a chuckle. “I forgot how deep Widows cut,” he jokes. “How was the old boss before he died? May he rest in peace.”

“Pieces,” you correct, struggling to speak well of the man that previously controlled every aspect of your life. “Helicopter explosion. He… He died powerful and influential. What he would’ve wanted.”

Mogart doesn’t push further, thankfully, coming to a stop in front of a glass pyramid.

“If I may ask, why such interest in Senfu in particular?”

You have a fake reason, but he gestures for Marc to answer. Shit.

“I think that… I just think I would love to take a look,” he says. He’s confident, but it’s an awkward pause.

Mogart concedes. “Funny man. Feel free.”

As you enter the area housing said tomb, you glance at Marc.

“You need to let Steven out. He knows more than either of us and we cannot afford to blow this,” you whisper.

Marc scoffs. “Not a chance. All right, what do you see?”

“The burial practices,” you begin, recalling your research from earlier. “They’re in line with the Studenwachen texts.”

“The what?”

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “Apparently I’m the only one who studied. It means it’s real. But all of this is just instructions to guide the dead.”

“So?”

“No locations indicated.”

Marc glances up at the ceiling, likely listening to Steven. He turns back to you, voice hushed.

“Ok, will you give me a minute? I gotta talk to Steven. Keep him occupied.”

You nod, slipping away with a sigh of relief.

“Mr. Estrada needs some time alone,” you announce, watching said man ramble to himself. “He’s… praying.”

This doesn’t stop Bek, who storms in and grabs Marc’s arm. On instinct, the ex-Marine disarms him, also giving up your cover.

Guns are trained on you in an instant, and you raise your hands.

“Marc!” you shout. He spots you, and for a second you think he’s gonna shoot the guy and leave you to fend for yourself. Instead, he curses and gives up the gun.

“Do you really think I’m an idiot?” Mogart asks. “Get on your knees.”

Marc obliges, and the robed man sneers at you. “I really thought you were a possible ally.” A gun shoved against your neck forces you forward. “I used to be Dreykov’s customer, a friend, even.”

“You think I’d want anything to do with the man who ruined my life?” you laugh. “Dreykov was a coward. And I wish I’d been the one to kill him.”

“Hey-“ Marc steps in. “Take a look inside the sarcophagus. There’s somethin’ really, really big.”

Before Mogart can look, Bek speaks to him in French. You freeze.

“It appears we have a concerned third party here,” he says. “Get up.”

“Harrow,” you mouth to Marc, trying to find the zealot. He stands with two men, leaning on his staff.

“Whatever they’ve told you, I’m sure I can offer something much more tangible.” The scarab floats above his hand. “Why settle for a clue when you can have the treasure?”

Arguing breaks out as Marc snaps at Harrow, who simply turns to each of you. “You all have more in common than you know.”

“(Y/N), you think that ignoring the past will keep it from catching up to you. That missions can give you a purpose, but it’s closing in.”

You’re so taken aback by him knowing your name and reading you so well that you don’t hear another word.

“Do it. Summon the suit,” Khonshu says, appearing on a rooftop. “Give them what they deserve.”

You exchange a glance with Marc, subtly nodding to your gun, and then to the distracted guards.

Meanwhile, Harrow calls on his staff, using it to destroy the sarcophagus. By the time the cultish leader is gone, so is Marc.

Panic starts immediately, and you grin despite being surrounded.

“Well, boys. Looks like you’re in trouble.”

Mogart and Bek run as Marc starts attacking, throwing down curved blades as you grab your gun. Shooting down three guards is easy enough, but more are firing from the track.

“Here!” Marc covers you with his cape, blocking the gunfire in a way you don’t understand.

You catch your breath, looking up where his eyes glow through the suit.

“Can you buy me some time?”

“Absolutely.”

You run to the tomb, grabbing the tattered fabric. When you turn around, you come face to face with Bek.

Thinking fast, you throw shards of glass at his face and kick him in the stomach. He grabs a knife as you dodge his attacks, ducking in time for his knife to land in the mummy.

You take the advantage, slamming the grip of your gun into his nose. He tosses you away to grab the knife, but as he turns around, you fire off a single shot.

A quick death, it could be worse.

Running to the track where Marc is pinned down, you jump the fence. There’s multiple javelins stabbed through him, and you shoot a rider with another ready.

As you aim for the rest, however, you take a blow to the head. You hit the dirt, trying to rise as your vision blurs.

You can hear hoofbeats pounding in your head, only increasing the incoming headache. He’s got a javelin.

“Fuck that hurts,” you mutter, pushing yourself into a sitting position with your gauntlet trained on the figure. Even as Mogart heads for Marc, you don’t waver, especially when he sticks out the weapon to attack you at the last second.

Marc tackles you out of the way, enveloping you as he rolls to safety and tosses a last knife. It doesn’t miss.

Sighing in relief, you let your head flop onto his shoulder as you try to fight off the ache. He pats you on the back as his wounds mend under the suit. A luxury you don’t have.

“There you go. That’s it, deep breaths,” he mumbles, not really sure when you got comfortable enough with each other to sit like this.

He tries his best not to focus on the weight of you leaning on him, trusting him enough to rest, safely tucked in his arms. It feels nice, to have someone trust him like this. Marc hasn’t had that in a long time.

He coughs a bit and you pull away, leaving a cold, exposed feeling where your touch was. Shakily standing, you observe the bodies scattered on the sand.

“We should keep moving,” you say softly. “Don’t want them to catch up.”

Marc can only nod as he fights to keep from reaching for you.

“Yeah. We’ll keep moving.”

[eye-of-yelough]

🍋🍪🍫!!

eeeeeeee thank!! doing this out of order cos the worst memory definitely had to be put under a readmore 😬

🍪 - what is something sentimental to your oc?

saved this one for last and i still don’t really know. i don’t think he’s very materially sentimental though. i think when he peels the face bandages away after Gortash gives him the lip/neck scars it’s like. in tv shows when they get makeovers and look into the mirror and cry because they’re so beautiful lmao. truly an insane response. but the Orin lobotomy happens really not very long after that so he doesn’t get the chance to enjoy it for long.

OH. the spiders lyre that Minthara gives him. when i mentioned everything reminds me of her by elliott smith was an aerynthara song the part i forgot to mention was that i imagine him playing it on the spiders lyre 🥹 i don’t think this Literally happens but it’s a cute image. i think he does try to teach himself how to play it but he sucks so bad and his singing would make your ears and eyes bleed.

🍫 - where does your oc go to think?

do people actually have “thinking spots”? i feel like that’s not really a thing. (<- guy who never leaves his room) anyway i don’t think he has a thinking spot but his “stop thinking” spot is basically any body of water. amphibious little fucker. maybe he wouldn’t be so weird if someone took him on a swimming date.

horrible horrible shit under the cut i’ve talked about this a little bit before in the tags of a post a few days ago, but this is in more detail. mentions of rape, both physical and psychological is the only way i can think to explain it. it’s bad. and csa.

🍋 - what is your oc’s most painful memory?

it isn’t one specific occasion, more a chain of events that gets worse and worse. i don’t know how to say this gently so i’m just gonna be super matter-of-fact about it. Aeryn got groomed and eventually sexually assaulted by his private piano tutor as a kid. (the fact that gort plays piano. ick) emphasis on the “groomed” part cos when his foster parents found out and they tried to have the bastard arrested he killed them to protect him. i don’t know exactly what happens between that and him getting adopted by Zhander the warlock mentor, but he doesn’t see the bastard who did that to him again. at least uhh. not for a while. Zhander isn’t too bad of a guy and doesn’t mistreat Aeryn, but their criminal lifestyle exposes him (young) to some more people who do over the years. Aeryn coming into his bhaalspawn legacy makes him increasingly difficult for Zhander to handle, especially seeing how Aeryn is using the same language he uses to justify his grey morality to justify brutal murder. he becomes terrified of him.

ok why is this just becoming aeryn’s backstory. yknow what i’ve started now i’m just gonna keep going cos i’m on a roll

Zhander eventually can’t handle the monster he created anymore and sells him to. some kind of Entity. idk Great Old One, it’s weird. this part’s a little a fuzzy if you couldn’t tell lol. anyway The Entity eventually becomes Aeryn’s patron after uhm. some amount of time? lots of horrors experienced in that time i’ll tell ya that much. Aeryn joins the Bhaalist cult at 21, only 4 years before meeting Gort.

to get it back on track to Aeryn’s Worst Memory, at some point he tells Gort about the piano teacher when they were playing their weird “Gortash as Aeryn’s therapist trying to cure his sex addiction” game. a mistake. first off Gort is super fucking creepy about it. but the real horror is a few weeks later when Gort leads him blindfolded into his basement (normal bestie activities) and uhm. locks him in a room with his former piano teacher. (big windows of course) and has no plans on letting him out until he gets his revenge. and i’m not talking about killing him. “takes back his dignity” as Gortash calls it, while forcing him to do the worst thing you could do to another person. and he eventually does do it, to be clear. strangles him to death while he does it and cries until he loses his voice, but he does it. Gortash makes him say “thank you” after wrestling him into accepting being cradled and told how good of a job he did. 😬

oh and Gortash makes sure to adequately break the guy beforehand to make sure it is rape.

and for context on why Gortash does this, because there is a reason: it’s pretty soon after he has the “Aeryn is my literal heart” realisation, but before he realises that his heart is an asset, not a burden. in that period of time, he does a lot of the worst stuff he ever does to Aeryn, including this, in an effect to kill his empathy. his heart. he doesn’t succeed, he never could, but he definitely fucks him up scary style.

so um. yeah. sorry

[thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls]

Me explaining why all the songs on my oc playlist are there- Very Long Post apologies!!

Tagging @locke-n-k3y since they were interested :] I also repeat myself a lot here and if you have any questions pls send them my way!! This is a very mixed explanation of my story in no timeline order so understandable if you have questions!

Also now tagging @guess-how-i-stole-this-body since i think this is the one you meant? sorry if it isn’t!

The playlist in question:

Kiss Me, Son Of God by They Might Be Giants: Janette and her relationship with her cult status (She’s the leader) and her journey to get there

Gnaw by Alex G: The first half is about Adele and Josh in highschool AKA when they met and the second is Josh talking to his son Ryan

Sarah by Alex G: About Claire, Ryan’s older sister who dies later in the storyLike Real People Do by Hozier: All the romantic relationships in the story basically but mainly Karma (Ryan and Carmela)

Twin Size Mattress by The Front Bottoms: Josh and Adele’s relationship in a way

Motion Sickness by Phoebe Bridgers: Dana talking about her ex

Feel Good Inc. by Gorillaz: The cryptid trio!! (Dana, Carmela and Ryan the main three) mainly just a song they’d sing too

Funkytown by Lipps Inc.: I imagine the cryptid trio dancing to this hehe :]]

Lone Star by The Front Bottoms: Maria and Daniel (Carmela’s parents)

Beachboy by McCafferty: RYAN!! I don’t know how to explain it tbh but yeah

I Hate My Mom by GRLwood: Claire and Adele’s (her mum) relationship

Freaks by Surf Cruse: The cryptid trio in the middle of the story

Shut Me Up by Mindless Self Indulgence: Again a song mainly just vibes but its also Jadele (Janette and Adele)

Numbers by TEMPOREX: Another ryan song!! Again idk how to explain it

The Villain I Appear To Be by Connor Spiotto and Molly Pease: Janette!! And her trying to convince herself that she isn’t a bad person

Tears Over Beers by Modern Baseball: Josh talking about Adele 

bad idea right? by Olivia rodrigo: So this is a bit of an inside joke with me and my friend but its basically the song that’d play for one of the scenes with Carmela and Ryan (but downplayed to just kissing lmao) 

bad idea! by girl in red: JADELE!! Janette and Adele. If you listen to the song its kind of self explanatory?

Why Am I Like This? by Orla Gartland: Dana! A dana song for the ages. She is not doing welll

This Is Love by Air Traffic Controller: Janette and Adele in the midway point of their relation/situationship

Gilded Lily by Cults: Janette and the cult she runs thanks to her mum

First Love/Late Spring: Claire. also one of dana’s dads, Noah

Me and My Husband by Mitski: Maria and Daniel’s relationship

Nobody by Mitski: Carmela!! Also if adele threw a pity party she doesn’t deserve :D

Be Gay, Do Drugs, Hail Satan by Super Cassette: Adele and Josh when they were younger in the 90’s

Dead Girls by Penelope Scott: Claire again!! This explains her death D:

I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski: Janette and her son/nephew Oliver (she adopted her nephew after her sister died)

Brutus by The Buttress: Janette and her time in the cult and the way she killed her friend Huan Lin when she was younger

Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus: Josh talking about Adele in the 90’s/early early 200’s 

Ma Belle Evangeline from Princess And The Frog: Noah talking about his late wife Laura

Dream Sweet In Sea Major by Miracle Musical: Claire except she didn’t die at sea

Don’t Try Suicide by Queen: Claire’s death. but in a goofy sense :]]

Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D by Will Wood and The Tapeworms: Janette again!! Basically her feeling sillyyy/hj

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John: Ryan :[

Need 2 by Pinegrove: What I imagine plays when the cult building burns down (also this scene is where Janette dies for the first time in the story) 

Buddy Holly by Weezer: Josh- he is a big fan of Weezer

Trees by McCafferty: Josh talking about his childhood

She Wolf by Shakira: The cryptid trio would sing this :D

The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives: Mainly just vibes I think it suits the story

Murders by Miracle Musical: Again just vibes but it could also be when Janette killed Huan

Ring Of Fire by Johnny Cash: What would play while the cult building is burning down if this was a show

DO YOU REMEMBER ME??? by emily jeffri: Janette talking to Adele when she comes back to life

The Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx: Maria when she left for another city and her grief and regret about leaving Carmela behind

Tongues and Teeth by The Crane Wives: Janette talking about her and Adele’s relationship (In a way since Janette is aro and its also her trying to come up with ways to convince Adele to not date her since Adele does not take no for an answer akdhdkhdj)

Everybody Loves Somebody by Dean Martin: Noah and his husband Jose

Nice 2 Know Ya- Instrumental by Sylendanna: Again just the cryptid trio vibing 

Bleed Magic by I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME: Adele talking about her and janette’s relationship

Bicycle Race by Queen: Just vibes :]]

Chinatown by Shakey Graves: Josh talking about Adele while she’s cheating on him

Two Birds by Regina Spektor: Claire and Ryan (the siblings ever augh)

I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE by Måneskin: Jadele (janette and adele)

Closer by Nine Inch Nails: Also Jadele do not question meeee/lh

Wet by Dazey and the Scouts: Maria and her feelings about being in a relationship

SOLUS by emily jeffri: V I B E S

Washing Machine Heart by Mitski: Maria again :[[

Murder Song (5,4,3,2,1) by Aurora: Adele and Josh

Fell In Love With A Girl by The White Stripes: Adele and Josh in primary school

The King by Sarah Kinsley: I think this would play over Ryan and Carmela’s kiss if this was a showwww

Memento Momori: the most important thing in the world by Will Wood and The Tapeworms: Janette talking to Carmela

Night Shift by Lucy Dacus: JANETTE AND HER MANY COMPLEX FEELINGS ABOUT ADELE it’s such a janette song guyssss

Sober To Death by Car Seat Headrest: Josh talking about Adele

Babooshka by Kate Bush: VIBES AGAIN

Uptown Girl by Billy Joel: Noah talking about Jose just swap girl to guy

Digital Silence by Peter McPoland: The story as a whole

Time/Space by Alex G: Oliver, Janette’s son/nephew

Non, je ne regrette rien by Èdith Piaf: A song that’d be playing while Ryan’s arm gets chopped off by Carmela

Barracuda by Heart: This just gives off Carmela vibes to me

Highway to Hell by AC/DC: Janette when she dies the first time/hj

(Don’t Fear) The Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult: I think it also fits the story as a whole

We Didn’t Start The Fire by Billy Joel: The cryptid trio

So You Wanna Marry Daisy by Spence Hood: Adele. nothing else lmao

Duvet by bôa: Maria again!!

Be Nice To Me by The Front Bottoms: Ryan talking to Carmela after she cut off his arm

You’re Not Special Babe by Orla Gartland: Josh talking to Adele

The Chicken by Bo Burnham: Literally this song explains Maria and Daniel and a bit of Carmela’s story as well

Habits by Genevieve Stokes: Dana song :]]

Where The Streets Have No Name by U2: What I imagine plays on the last epsiode as the end credits

It’s Been So Long by The Living Tombstone: Janette talking about Oliver (FNAF SONG LETS GOOO) 

Never Been Better by half•alive and Orla Gartland: Basically just Noah and Maria (they are best friends!!) 

Poison Oak by Bright Eyes: Josh :] love him sooo much

Dullahan by Worthikids: Dana song again!! She also listens to music like this

West Coast by FIDLAR: The cryptid trio

Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart by Mitski: Maria since she is one of my saddest characters D:

Mad IQ’s by I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME: JADELE BELOVEDS TOXIC YURIIII!! 

Runs in the Family by Amanda Palmer: Janette and her family- also Maria

Kiss Ur Face Forever by Orla Gartland: Karma! (Carmela and Ryan)

Missus Piano by Rio Romeo: Adele talking to Janette

Slipping Through My Fingers by ABBA: Ryan at Claire’s death scene and Oliver at Janette’s death

Hermit The Frog by MARINA: Janette in highschool

Step On Me by The Cardigans: Janette talking to Adele

This Hurts by Mindless Self Indulgence: Janette, Adele and Josh (they’d make the best polycule if they were all good people and nothing bad happened akdhkdhd)

Molly by Mindless Self Indulgence: Janette in highschool againnnn

Witness by Mindless Self Indulgence: V I B E S 

Lights Out by Mindless Self Indulgence: Dana’s taste in music

Personal Jesus by Mindless Self Indulgence: Some aspects of Janette and Adele’s relationship

Join Us (And Die) from TGWDLM: Janette when she comes back from the dead

Inevitable from TGWDLM: Adele if she was in TGWDLM

Lifeboat from Heathers: Claire if she had a musical song

Bed of Roses by Mindless Self Indulgence: Basically janette’s final death since she also does in a bed of roses in a sense!!

Baby Hotline by Jack Stauber’s Micropop: Josh and Adele (if Josh hadn’t transitioned)

Agape by Nicholas Britell: What would play in one of the episodes :DD

Kilby Girl by The Backseat Lovers: Karma!! Ryan and carmela beloveds <33

suffering by Amélie Farren: Carmela <333

Black Friday from Black Friday: Vibess also carmela talking to Janette

Ghost of Chicago by Noah Floersch: Ryan talking about Carmela i love them so much guys kshdjdhd

Hello My Old Heart by The Oh Hellos: Janette when she’s dying (for the last time in the story so for context she dies twice) 

If you read this far I am giving you a hug, a high five for finger guns!!! Thank you for reading my oc rambles

[astrolaurical]

Hey

It's the same girl who asked about your opinion on my 10 year old cousin thinking Jungkook will marry her

I just wanted to ask

Is it normal that Every ARMY(some non-ARMYs too) around me thinks that someone from BTS gonna marry them? Or is it just people around me???

Everyone are delulu omg😭

I have too many stories about these girls

I (forcefully) checked what they were talking about and checked your Tumblr and I was so thankful someone was normal. I almost thought Everyone were like that

And Yes I told her to stay in School

I think everyone has a secret fantasy about marrying their favorite celebrity. That’s why celebrities and idols exist and why boy bands are so successful. I’m really showing my age but omg the frenzy in the 90s and early 2000s around NYSNC and The Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears?? Unparalleled. Then in the late 2000s we saw it again with Justin Bieber and One Direction. The Josie and Pussycats film (SLAY) makes fun of the entertainment industry the entire movie by even parodying boyband obsession, product placements, and the trend cycles. The movie went over so many peoples’ heads when it was released so it bombed at the box office but it’s a cult classic for a reason. Highly recommend to watch!!! Also aging myself again by admitting I had both the dvd AND soundtrack as kid bc the songs are bangers. Honestly the 90s-2000s in general just rocked. This is the only meme I have of the film but see the product placement and the mockery of boy bands? Genius.

The 1D documentary is a perfect example of the boy band frenzy that JATP film was mocking bc they even had a small scene where they had a neuroscientist or someone similar in that profession (I haven’t seen the movie in a few years so I’m not 100% sure but I was a hardcore 1d stan and have the dvd bc their live vocals honestly slap. Their concert cover of teenage dirtbag in the movie?? Still waiting for the actual recording bc chefs kiss). Anyway the neuroscientist was saying that corporations/ music companies have these formulas to create the perfect idol down to a t after studying the phenomenons of rabid Beatles and Elvis fans in the 50/60s. It has to do with the happiness chemicals in the brain. Combine those with good looks and music? You can’t help but fall in love. The entertainment industry then purposely directs their carefully molded artists to vulnerable audiences (preteens, teens, women) because they will buy more products. Casey Aonso (another fellow 1d stan wassup girl) YouTube video describes their XFactor era HILARIOUSLY. War flashbacks. The clips about HOW BAD each individual one direction members auditions were but you could see the $$$ in the judges eyes bc the boys were good looking and you could tel the judges were plotting how to sell the boys good looks. And they did.

And boy do we know that formula works. Hybe overprices bts products on Weverse shop and y’all eat it up and sell it out every time. $200 for a REPACKAGED cd. Weren’t they selling like a $1000 product recently? But even Jin had to be like “nah for my Astronaut comeback yall not gonna be selling hella expensive pajama pants like last time tho. We don’t price gouge in this house”. All hail jin.

I’ve talked a lot about parasocial relationships and media training, etc. While I think it’s fine to have a secret fantasy about marrying *insert celebrity crush name here*, I think it’s important to realize it’s a FANTASY. Fun to think about and daydream to, but NOT REALISTIC when trying to plan a future around or with. Go play the childhood game of MASH or make a SIMS family with Jungkook as your husband. That’s fine and normal. But don’t be going around telling people he’s your boyfriend. That’s delusion. I’ve included a perfect real life example of healthy young fangirling in the tags.

EDIT JUNE 11 2023:

I happened to come across this tik tok video yesterday that also explains delusion and obsession. I think it applies to “fangirling” especially well. TW for trauma.

[underestimated-heroine]

Not my twelfth archive post 😭

General

My turn dog video

What happened with John green was fucked up

If Wallace from Wallace and gromit died

-core "and none of you have sex"

Peggle 2

Size comparison between prehistoric animals and modern descendants

If you found out you were pregnant right now tiktok

The Minecraft poem is public domain now

Deaf culture reference post

Human pet guy

This makes me personally uncomfortable to malicious scale

Worst opening sentence competition

My fish brain want to go home video

Explain the Jewish holidays to me like I'm 5

If I was famous I'd release a bad song nct

The pigeon post

Harriet Porber

I hate you Christmas I hate you Christian hegemony

On writing plotting made simple

How to tag posts which might trigger epilepsy

Martin Bühler bike guy activism

How to search tags on Tumblr

Neil gaiman you have to practice writing

Zhao on "authors that made social media work for them"

Can you do a horse drawing reveal

2023 I hope you all kys

This post is like running through a minefield girl boy palette

The departed Matt damn Mark Wahlberg different people

On writing - writing is a skill practicing descriptions advice

2022 Tumblr Year in Review Month By Month

What data Tumblr live takes

Good fucking Lord quit sex-shaming people

I hate job hunting - wait did Anne Boleyn die? post

Share your genome sequence in ur bio

On writing: Plot Structure infograph

Finally some actually constructive criticism on a post

Jewish Concept of Lashon Hara

Riverdale banned fanfiction?

"everything's fine" knitting pattern

Mitch and bitch story

"I'll let this white girl say it since very few people listen when we do" mental illness social currency tiktok

Pornbot dms comic

Atla southern raiders were looking for hama

Why you hating on the red hot chili peppers longboarding across campus world heritage post ask

Harry Potter Legacy Chick Fil-A

Why is the US like that (Christian cults)

Ratatouille rogan Shapiro video idek

No doesn't exist on the internet anymore

"I forgive myself for doing that" and "I shouldn't have done that" can coexist

The US did not come together during the pandemic

If someone told me they felt like Harry Potter after we had sex

Anti-aging outrage post idek

Anime "is this the episode where he lost his house"

Ancient people fish with the sexy tits tiktok

Scooby Doo post "I've heard people say this website is free but you pay in other ways"

repeat after me: rest for art

Beautiful by ordinary days comic

Glaze comes out data-poisoning against art thieves

Reylo Lord farquad

Hippo post

Do not stand over my grave and weep poem comic

Monty Python Lady of the Lake quote 💀💀

Cops searched afroman's house and then tried to sue him for making a music video of the search

Fairy tail's strongest team freaks rating

Personal

Loid Anya younger than he thinks

Support voice actors

Black and white movies gripe

AU were race horses

My Nasha hair headcanon

Fairy tail AU where Juvia joined ft first

Gajevy vs. Gruvia

When this website was obsessed with astrology

Iconic spy x panel finally animated

The irony of picky eaters

Gray loved being in Juvia's body

Pops & Mops

Lake mungo Joel Anderson legend

Lamborghini-sized breasts and pills

2023 is cockdickpenis year

"um yeah that's called an addiction" fuck off

Google thinks I'm being bullied for baby names

Fandom influencer types -_-

This website defending the reputation of bees

Shrek "I need a hero scene" dad looks like he's watching a car wreck

Scrimp scrive fuck around

Sailor moon redraw redeaw

Laxus Jellal BrOTP

Comedian vs. rich housewife video

Jan 4 2023 antiwork screenshots

I wanted Natsu to beg for forgiveness

Rankin bass Rudolph

Don't take your managers on good faith. Ever.

Gray Fullbuster to an enemy

Pornbot "how dare you block me" dream

Goodbad boy (yes it's tod)

Rieklings

Fairy Tail Chasing Tails fic

Poll vampires werewolves etc.

Fairy Tail Gendercross Big4 Guys

[spacetrashpile]

🥭 mango 🍑peach 🍌 banana

gonna do alexandra, elena, and alfred for these ones!

🥭 [MANGO] What colours best represent them and why? Does this differ from their favourites?

alexandra is a yellow and orange color scheme girl through and through. i sometimes add light blue as well but rarely. this is for 1. lightning magic reasons 2. my favorite color reasons and 3. actual reasons. alexandra is a very bright person, she is one of the primary “talking to people” members of the party for just this reason. she knows how to endear people to her and she does it often. i think she certainly likes all of these colors, and yellow finds it’s way into her wardrobe a lot, but her actual favorites are greens and purples. (which are, honest to go coincidentally, the colors i associate with her girlfriend. i picked those as her favorite colors before i even knew who dani WAS.)

🍑 [PEACH] How do they show their kindness? How kind are they truly?

elena shows kindness through acts of service. this is apart of her pact with the raven queen in some ways, but also something she learned from her parents. her parents were often out of the house, and they would make things for their children or make things happen for them both as a reminder they were still around and to show elena and her sister they were loved. she picked this up, she shows kindness and care to people most often by protecting them in bad situations or helping them get something done. how kind she truly is is a kind of murky question. elena mentally places a lot more of her kindness on “things i’m doing for my pact rather than out of genuine kindness” than i think is accurate. she does genuinely care about people, but she’s very quick to change her mind and act against them as well. she does make genuine efforts to be kind, and i think she is deep down, but a lot of it is also muddled by her pact with the raven queen forcing her into situations where she acts kindly even if she doesn’t want to.

🍌 [BANANA] Have parts of your OC been lost to time (in-universe)? What do they wish they could lose from themselves?

alfred’s answer to both of these questions is his family. as i mentioned in the tags, alfred’s family is a Literal Cult. they worship the eldritch god the Unnamed, and alfred was raised to be the Unnamed’s next host, so he was kept in the dark most of his life. when he did finally find out, he realized that he had become the perfect host they wanted him to be, he was power hungry and selfish and magical, and he was, for the first time, truly disgusted with himself. in the wake of this (which i can and will explain more deeply) alfred lost almost all of his family members (6 to actual death, most of the others to being disowned). despite this, he feels like he can never truly shake them and they and their expectations for him will always be haunting him, even when the god is dead and he never speaks to them again.

[d3nt4l-d4m4g3]

A few days ago, I emailed my former professor about a paper on women’s food practices in the middle ages. At least, that’s what I told him it was about, initially. 

But actually, I wanted to discuss heresy. This professor teaches a women’s rights course every year. Every year at the beginning of the class, he calls attention to why he, a man, is talking about women’s rights. He looks us in the eyes and says, no one else is doing it, and I’m sorry it’s me.

This man made us read the SCUM manifesto, Gerda Lerner, Maria Mies. He grazed the subject of the Lesbian Sex Wars, delicately, so gingerly, posing the question: “Can sex work ever be just work?”  And my  (all woman) classmates, generally mute—in a Women’s Rights class, they all seemed averse to saying the word “woman,” at all. Then one woman raised her hand. and she said, “Sex work is real work.”  A statement that, as I hope you know, is a deflection and a discussion killer.  

At the time I was non-binary. Hah. I submitted a comic at the end of the year of my final project. My thesis for that project was this: the very language female people have to use for themselves was constructed by the patriarchy. for example, the english word “vagina” comes from the latin word for “sheath”. so the vagina invokes the act of penetration upon its utterance. Whereas the word “penis” has no clear etymological root, implying that it is original while the vagina is constructed for him. Why should I carry the fact that I will always be a tool, the hole, of the human that is man? My solution, at the end of the comic, was to continue using they/them pronouns, to shield myself from the horror of being a wo-man, a s-he—an appendage of Him. 

I got a good grade. A stellar report. And it wasn’t a bad comic, for what I knew then. For my condition of blindness and deafness. I made a compelling argument, using sources from class.  But oh, how much older I feel now. I’ve always felt old but now I feel almost like I’m dying. Like I don’t have enough time to fix the world before I disappear. And women’s stories never survive. They are not surviving. networks spring up like mycelium and then every century at least they are burned. Witchcraft is in the air shared by women in a room of their own, and witchcraft is doused in gasoline.

I don’t have enough time to explain how the veil lifted for me. Maybe I forget the big moment. the days after were a blur of searching the no-no tags like radical feminist, GNC, gender critical. Amazed at the wealth of journals that these women linked to with real statistics showing that children are being sterilized for no reason. Mostly gay children. like me, a lesbian, who now lives in a house with three  “non-binary afabs”. This summer, one of these women, who I have known since freshman year, will start taking testosterone, a procedure I took up  for three turbulent months during my freshman year of college. I get to watch her become what I turned away from, knowing the experience fractured my sense of self to a point of  terror and estrangement. I get to watch her hide from her problems and cut herself off from womanhood the way I did for 3 years. I am not a woman, so do I not feel Woman’s pain, she is telling me, I told myself, when I was in a dream.  She has so many problems, she laughs. But trans is a separate problem that has nothing to do with those other problems. A coincidence.

 (For any trans people reading this, you may think: This transtrender fake-trans never-was-trans woman is treating these nonbinary people as if they were dead! as if they weren’t happy people finally living their truth! —well. I put my mom through the process of trying to convince her that I should have always been a man. and I did lose her, for months. For her it was the height of cognitive dissonance that I should want to go on a life-altering hormone to cure my lifelong social awkwardness and self-hatred and self-harm and depression. And I blamed her for not accepting my real self. I was basically made to shun her and my family because of transphobia.. It is disrespectful to anyone’s sanity and integrity for me to perpetuate that cognitive dissonance in this post.)

So I eventually got through to the professor. I knew because of the texts he had us to read for class. He is gay.  He has read all the theory, and lives by it.  And no (woman) student wants to speak to him. To bring the theory alive. They cannot breathe into it and it sits dead in his mouth.

Maybe it is because he is a man. because the presence of one man in a space of all women immediately sends up alerts.  lockdown. Certainly that is the case. Radical Feminists here: I know he’s a man. But I don’t have a woman. And I felt on the strength of the texts he’d given us that he would be my best bet. Maybe somewhere in the corrupted, rotting heart of my college there was a person who knew about thoughtcrimes and was thinking them anyway.

My professor starts with diversion. He starts by talking about my paper. I find it disconcerting that he starts that way. I worry that he won’t want to refer to my email. Where I say: I have woken up from a dream to the apocalypse—Does this man think I’m crazy? Chipper and kind of frantically, he lists off  primary sources of medieval nuns and women saints. for my paper.  Does this man think I’ve turned into a bigot?  Am I confessing lunacy, like a flat-earther?

But I steer the conversation to the meat at his first tentative encouragement. I tell him something like: “children, mostly gay children, a whole generation of gay children, are being sterilized. Porn is a symptom of late-stage capitalism—men’s ownership of women’s bodies. trans is an extension of this. I was part of this. I was in a cult.” I was shaking a bit. I don’t think I’d uttered those words out loud. They sound crazy. Some of the things I said did sound far-fetched. disorganized, remote. But I prayed that my professor would believe some of it, any of it. 

 What I will say is that he believes me.  Thank fuck, right?

He tells me something along the lines of this, vocalizing my fears: 

that all of academia is being scrubbed of anything that doesn’t support Trans.

And it is trans-identified female students and women who are reporting him to Title IX, who spend all their time in his classes fuming at the lack of validation for trans women in the  history of women. My sisters, footsoldiers for the cause. What cruel irony. This man is holding onto this class by his fingernails, speaking through his teeth, hoping any of the twenty young adult women staring blankly or angrily at him will hear him and listen.

 Looking back, the professor’s responses to my emails are vague, completely refusing to acknowledge a point of view other than “WOW. I look forward to discussing this.”  I think he thinks he could be blackmailed. Anything he says on gmail dot com can and would be used against him. It’s like, really, really, really that bad. 

No ideology should involve a cultural cleaning of women’s history feat. witch hunts. 

I will end here with an excerpt from my first email to this professor:

I'm sure you know what a total bummer it is to realize this. 

[nagirambles]

is there anything you ever wish we learned more about celestial magic? or at least anyway you’d want to change it considering how it work now, because it had so much potential but as you’ve stated it now basically works as celestial spirt take over (which honestly if take literally could be even cooler like lucy and her sprits merging sure as hell is a concept)

Oh dear here I go. I love this topic.

I definitely wish we learned more about the spirits themselves, their powers, and their dynamics between each other and people around them.

We explored this in the Angel fight, but that's really the most we ever get. I liked when we sawCapricorn's loyalty in Tenrou (and how Loke knew it), but again, we just never get anything like it ever again. I was looking forward to Libra the whole show (because it's my sign) and she ended up being a plot device to show off how cool Kagura is.

I genuinely believe that spirits should never be undermined in their own main magic, because they're just pointless then. At least make them equal like Juvia vs Aquarius, geez. Horologium is one of the most useful spirits Lucy has, and he's irreplaceable, unlike her fighting spirits. No other spirit can do ultimate defense like him, (eg Loke can be interchanged with Virgo or Taurus, because if you just want raw power, they can all do it similarly).

This ramble got really long so here's a read more.

Most of them are now just convenient weapons to be summoned when the author realizes they've lacked screen time recently. Gemini, one of the better-handled ones, are just the cool trick Lucy has for jokes or fake-outs/deceit, and she summons them to use Urano Metria I guess. And no, I'm not saying that's bad, that's really good actually, but that's the thing-- Gemini is just a cool power. We never explore Gemini's viewpoints or Aries' former mistreatment ever again, even though it's apparently a prevailing problem among CSM. Lucy being a mage that actually loves her spirits is the whole crux of Lucy's magic, and yet it's like everyone's forgotten it was ever an issue in the world.

Understandably, it's because we have zero points of comparison. It would have been cool if we found another CSM like Karen again, just to see how the spirits react due to Lucy's influence on them.

I truly believe this problem exists because Lucy got too many keys too quickly. It just got too difficult to balance screentime, and so they just stopped showing up altogether for any meaningful reason than battle. I know it's necessary for the plot and it's sparsely explained away in Key of Starry Heavens and the Eclipse gate yada yada, but it just doesn't make sense that there are only two Celestial Spirit mages in the entire damn world when gold keys are so rare. It's never explained why this is like this except for us to think 'oh, she's the main character, of course'. I really think the series could have benefited from more one-off characters that are CSM, like-- god forbid I say this, Everlue.

Heck, we should have had some mages that just specialize in Silver Keys. You're not telling me such a versatile old magic isn't researched to hell and back with a cult following and some die-hard collectors. Money and rarity isn't really a valid concern, Shiny hunters exist in the Pokemon fandom. if people want something, they will do anything legal and illegal to get it.

I feel it's a shame that we have to continue enforcing the 'ohh, I'm using your magic by being here, I gotta go and let you fight by yourself' thing, since there's so much potential in tag teaming.

I want to see them fight together, rather than Lucy just taking their powers and using them like Digimon fusion. Actually that's a terrible comparison, Digimon fusions are better because the Digimon is still there conjoined like armor, speaking to each other, and they're actually fighting together with their Tamers as one. Okay now I like this idea better. I want something like that for Lucy if she's going to be a magical girl, not the Requip: Celestial Spirit Powers that we got. Yeah what we got is cool but I like the spirits as characters too, not just as one of Lucy's many power varieties.

I do like that Virgo gave Lucy a whip in Edolas. We hardly see her use it effectively and at some point it's just gone, but I feel that's a great start in going from summoning spirits to fighting with their powers. We should have expanded on that before the Star Dresses, honestly. Maybe Taurus gives her a lesser version of his axe or gauntlets that grant her some super strength, Loke gives her a ring that can use a holder-type Regulus, Aquarius gives her a water jug and Lucy can use some Water Magic as long as she's using the water from it. Imagine if she only got these weapons after a while of bonding with them, like a statement of trust and love from spirit to owner.

Sure she'll find weapons she's ill-fitted for, but isn't that the point? Imagine Lucy asking for advice from the rest of her teammates or even her spirits themselves, because one of them gave her a rapier and she needs to learn a bit of how to use it? The training arc before GMG would have been perfect for these things.

I'd also like if they continued a Holder-type theming with those, because Lucy's the only Holder-type in Team Natsu and I wish she stayed like that so she continued to remain unique. We literally have-- so many magical-girl type female mages, form Requip to Takeover to Star Dresses. Mashima uses all of them as an excuse for fanservice, and he's so blatant about it ugh. Couldn't he at least make the designs look good?

Alright! That's about it I have for now. I have a tag called 'the menace celestials' if anyone ever wants to read all the rambles I've had about Celestial Spirit magic. Thank you for the ask!

[parismystere]

Please tag your salt

sweet anon, you didn't tell me exactly what posts to tag for you, so i am going to take this opportunity to talk about something that has been bothering me for some time, probably since i found out what the salt tags are: but what is salt? on salt and its dimensions: a thesis by parismystere tumblr dot com. let's get philosophical, ladybloggers.

i cannot recall what was my first introduction to salt, how i found the tags or which salt blogs i visited first, but i think it might have been posts that criticized the show in, what seemed to me, fairly objective and civil ways - maybe somebody was discussing that the concept of love rivals is pointless and boring when you have something unique as the love square where the point is that the main two characters are each other's rivals, maybe someone was mad that lila appears once in a blue moon - who knows? all of these things i found very valid and worth of discussion, able to be debated with arguments from people on both sides, hardly negative or mean-spirited, so why were they labelled as salt? i was beginning to catch on that salt equals ml negativity, but i also wondered why the hell was the need for less-than-gushing opinions to be filtered out like that. if i am in a fandom, i am probably interested in what people have to say, right? (and i usually am: probably the only people i wouldn't be willing to engage at all is a specific very obsessive, vengeful and hostile type. i am capable of agreeing with salters on certain stuff if i think they are correct; for the most part, i feel no need to start dog-whistles that someone is Bad; it's just one sector that drives me bonkers to the point of me being unreasonably angry. but i am working on it.)

somewhere along that time i was a budding adrien stan and as such i had to face the Public Opinion on My Boy. that's when i discovered character bashing that was inane to me - that adrien was a sexual abuser when that was quite obviously not the intention of the show, that alya was a bad friend, that tom and sabine (yes) were bad parents, and so on; and i was like, aha, salt is when you exaggerate the truth to a degree that seems insane to anyone living in the real world. please try explaining to people in your life how a french boy kissing a girl's cheek is sexual harassment. you get weird looks. but also, the thing is that the people who write those things genuinely believe them; salt isn't some fun role-play where they pick a character to lash out at. if that's their truth, then it makes sense that it isn't salt from their perspective, no?

[nota bene: at some point it became clear to me that these people were nearly always maribug/lukanette stans. a l w a y s. there is a level of unhingeness in maintaining a blog in which you meticulously track down instances of your fave being wronged for years. there is something deplorable about people encouraging other people to waste their time on such endeavors. i mean - it's cultism. i hate cults. have you ever had one of those people under your posts? it's the same keywords, same sentences, same arguments, multiplied over many blogs. it's an entire community dedicated to hating a character or a show, because they project on marinette to a borderline unhealthy degree, or because they were here for s1 and then they ended up disliking the show, or because they hate everything about ml and cannot look away. fair enough, it is addictive, but if you are THAT disappointed, you walk away, you don't act like a messiah saving people. you say your piece once, you don't make a fucking cult. anyway.]

but, i also want to talk about a fandom-defining event: chameleon.

can you imagine being me, watching chameleon, not thinking anything of it and coming on here and finding out it ruined a fandom for years ahead? i'm still so incredibly baffled that real-life humans felt so slighted that they ended up writing thousands of revenge fantasies, downvoting the episode on ratings websites, began claiming that the showrunners hate marinette (she has two pairs of pajamas. shut up.), saying that everyone was dumbed down for the episode (the only dumbed down part for me was that ladybug kept trying to take objects from chameleon and deakumatize them. like, girl, the entire akuma shapeshifts. who wrote this #character assassination), made the ladyblogs and so on. and for what? because of how much they project on marinette, because they fail to see the show from the perspectives of other characters (adrien was right, actually), because they overblew this completely trivial plot out of proportion. it's kind of like the 'why does marinette always mistakes' argument - because this show doesn't allow anyone else to take the spotlight for long enough to make the mistakes. this is the life of the kid show protagonist. and that includes stuff like the lila/chameleon plot.

but here is the most important takeaway from this essay: because of the mass hysteria over chameleon, any logical and legitimate grievences with the show, any thoughtful but not glowing opinions, any things that should be rightly questioned, anyone coming from a good place and trying to have intelligent discussions about their freaking french cartoon gets shut down. we are at this point when even something as tame as asking 'what purpose does luka serve' has to be tagged as #ml salt. fam. this is not okay. hell, the show got in hot fire for using a flag offensive to south koreans, and even though it was a legitimate issue and a mistake on the creative team's part (that didn't get fixed :) even though they said they will fix it :)), posts about it were also tagged with #ml salt. this is insane, right? you're also seeing it?

the fandom response towards the kuro neko trailer for me, personally, was hard to swallow; i won't go into details of the stuff i saw, of how the narrative got constantly rewritten, of how anyone who was legitimately upset with how the episode was going down, how the ladynoir dynamic was handled, got shut down. correction: one side repeatedly got shut down, but also thankfully, those people aren't the type of people to make salt blogs or to harass people [i know that many were biting their tongue ever since marinette's plan in ephemeral because they fear chameleon 2.0, why is your opinion of adrien stans so low when that's the most mature section of the fandom smh </3].

but to me, i guess, what is even more unhealthy is to think that someone bashing your favorite thing reflects on that favorite thing, your personhood, your life and so on. it comes from a place of insecurity or weak sense of self maybe, i don't know. you can love something and have nuanced opinions about it. probably my natural arrogance, my uberconfidence in my opinions (my fatal flaw!), but - if i really understand something well, if i know that i am right, if i am secure in who i am and what i believe, then, unless i am in a shitty mood, it's hard to get to me. i used to get very upset about adrien salt - and when i understood that thing as far as i could, unless something has been upsetting me, i can just scroll past and not think of it much. i mean, if someone salts on him for hugging his blood relative without consent, you just have to laugh.

there is the 'counter salt with sugar' thing - i've said before why i don't think it doesn't work - and something that i described once as fandom defensiveness. i am as guilty as everyone for posting fandom salt, especially when it's over old wounds, because, honestly, does it matter? has anyone ever changed somebody else's mind over the internet? it's especially funny when people say that they haven't been seeing salt on their dash and only counterarguments -because the ops have probably also blocked the tags and the salt people, so they're fighting chimeras. or when people write fandom salt on tumblr about what's going on in... instagram or youtube. i don't know; it's good to let off steam, especially if there is a new episode or a trailer and we're all being anything but very normal about it; but i remember that i literally saw people blocking and unfollowing each other over dub preferences??? is this the fandom salt we should spend our energy on??? anyway.

in conclusion: there is no definition of salt, really. it can go from slightly negative things to outright hatred, from very sincere disappointment written in good faith to statements that sound closer to trolling. it's the wild west. salt is whatever you want it to be. but worst of all, the toxic idea is that anything other than blind worship is salt. because then i can't have my fun conversations in public and invite more people with interesting perspective, i have to do clandestine meetings in private messages. i mean, it is sexy, but at some point you want the company to go public.

anon, sorry if i came off as being a bitch. i am also sorry if you had to read all this lol. but hey, i know that there are people who hate-read my blog and i will probably wake up to this post being quoted and discussed without context, like always, so can you blame a girl for being defensive and not as sweet as pie anymore? [also, i am being facetious in many parts of this post. nota bene for the out-of-context crew.]

anyway, i am pretty sure that this ask is bc i narrated the plot of ml in the main part of my post but said in the tags that i dislike what's going on in a joking manner and without elaborating further. see? i had no idea it would bother people.

[scripttorture]

You mention in posts how torture doesn’t make people obedient and usually makes them spiteful (which obviously makes sense), but isn’t it realistic for someone to comply out of fear rather than loyalty? Whether that was giving up information or obeying orders or something else entirely. I imagine it depends on the person, and they would probably still be willing to turn on their torturers if given the chance, but would it be possible for them to obey orders in hopes of avoiding more pain?

This is a much more nuanced and complicated topic then we’re taught to assume.

 When it comes to giving up information it’s pretty clear cut. No, torture can’t lead to accurate information for a lot of interconnected reasons. I have about six separate masterposts covering the reasons for this.

 One of those is the antagonism torture produces. Another is the memory problems torture causes. Another is the effect that the use of torture has on organisations and the chain of command. Another is the effect torture has on torturers.

 Torture drastically increases the chances of memory loss and it also increases the chances of inaccurate memories. So not only is a torture victim less likely to talk, they’re more likely to be wrong if they do talk.

 But the effects on victims aren’t the main reason torture doesn’t work as a way of getting information. You’re assuming that torturers have access to people who have information.

 The reality is that torture destroys an organisation’s ability to gather accurate information. Most information comes from volunteers: when torture comes into play less people volunteer information. This means that an organisation which tortures is more likely to be questioning someone who knows nothing. That person is then abused until they start making things up.

 Because there’s less access to volunteered information and because humans are very bad at telling when someone is lying, a lot of these made up stories are believed. And this then effects who else the organisation arrests and tortures. This creates a sort of spiral, with lies leading to more lies.

 Additionally the torturers themselves make things worse. There’s less quality research on them, but the research and anecdotal accounts create a pretty clear picture of their behaviour. They undermine the chain of command, they lose the skills the originally had as they turn to torture, they’re aggressive, incredibly competitive and they have a… fracturing effect on their organisation.

 Basically they’re incredibly difficult to work with and totally convinced of their own importance. And this effects their colleagues. It totally divides organisations. The worst case I’ve read about involved members of the same organisation killing each other over access to prisoners.

 That’s a short run through of the main factors. Torture, in the legally defined sense, means all of these factors are in play. Plus a few more I’ve omitted to keep this shorter.

 With all of that together you just can’t get accurate information.

 If you want longer posts I’ve made on the subject I suggest looking for the ‘torture doesn’t work’ tag and the ‘torture as interrogation’ tag. You can also read the masterposts. If you want a much more in depth look at why torture consistently fails as a way of getting information I recommend O’Mara’s Why Torture Doesn’t Work and Rejali’s Torture and Democracy.

 O’Mara is a neuroscientist and goes through the effects torture has on the brain in a way that’s accessible, explaining the damage torture causes and how that destroys the evidence torturers claim to be seeking. Rejali’s book is a breeze block but it’s really a must, it is the textbook on torture in a broad sense. He ties together information from across the globe creating a broader picture of what torture does, not just to victims but to societies.

 The question of compliance under threat and pain… is more complicated.

 People can be forced to do some things. That much is obvious from a brief glance at human history and things like slavery. But it’s important to listen to what people in these scenarios say.

 And my opinion, based on what I’ve read, is that what these people say doesn’t support the idea that humans will easily obey instructions when they’re hurt or threatened. I think instead these people are making hard headed, rational choices in absolutely awful situations. I think when we don’t have these experiences of torture or slavery, it’s easy to look at the surface of the situation and assume that pain alone assures obedience. I think that happens because it’s hard for use to understand the rationale when we don’t have that lived experience.

 Let me give some examples. So it probably goes without saying that slavery goes hand in hand with physical abuse. One of the major researchers on slavery, whose data I quote pretty regularly, assumes throughout his writings that pain is the deciding factor which ‘makes’ people obey.

 But he also describes a couple of very obvious consistent patterns in the ways slavers behave. Slavers almost universally do the following things as well as using physical abuse:

Separate enslaved people from their community

Bar enslaved people from other forms of support

Make enslaved people financially/materially reliant on the slavers

Tell enslaved people that going to the police/authorities will lead to the enslaved person being arrested

Try to convince enslaved people that they will be better off if they comply, usually by framing it as a debt to be worked off with promises of riches after a period of time

 Now here’s the thing: we know from studies on cults and studies on ICURE techniques that a lot of these strategies will result in obedience when there is no violence or physical abuse.

 Given that I don’t think we can assume that violence is the deciding factor. In fact I think the evidence we have from forced confessions under torture suggests the violence may lead to less obedience and a lower ‘success’ rate then a set up that used emotional abuse or other exploitative techniques without violence.

 We have two sources of historical data that are used for statistical studies on forced confessions. One is from historical France. We think that this data set only involved torture to force a confession; no other method of coercion just violence. The rate of forced confessions varied a little in different areas but over all it’s about 10%. The second data set is from the ‘London Cage’ a British prison during the second world war. Here we know that torture was combined with blackmail, bribery and other kinds of coercion. The rate of forced confessions there was about 30%.

 And while this is just two studies, while the data is lacking… That is one hell of a jump.

 Let’s circle back to ICURE. ICURE stands for Isolation, Control information, create Uncertainty, Repetition and Emotive responses. It’s a set of techniques which can, sometimes, change someone’s beliefs when it’s applied consistently over a long time.

 Notice the effort slavers put in to isolating their victims. Notice that the behaviour pattern I’m describing means the slavers are creating uncertainty over seeking help and repeating those messages as well as messages that the victims will be better off if they just go along with it.

 Slavers will generally also try to control the information their victims have access to, taking phones and blocking access to news sources and other resources. Now a lot of slavers will transport their victims to other states or countries putting a language barrier in place. They sometimes also use emotive responses in attempts to persuade victims to comply.

 I’ve read multiple accounts where survivors of modern slavery described slavers telling them that the money they were making was being sent to the victim’s family and without it the family would not survive. (Sometimes the slavers do send small amounts to the families of their victims, sometimes they pocket everything.) I’ve also read accounts where gangs of slavers used religion and oaths taken in a religious setting to persuade their victims they’d be punished by God for not complying.

 Even with all of this, all these techniques we know can sometimes ‘work’- lots of people refuse. Lots of people disobey. Lots of people escape. Lots of people actively sabotage the operations the slavers put together.

 And if you look at that same history of slavery, that shows us people can sometimes be forced to work, you’ll see that this has always been true.

 We have records of historic enslaved people attacking slavers, forming organised militias, forming parallel societies, sacking towns, taking over an entire Caribbean island and beating off four European armies in the process. We also have records of smaller acts. Sabotage, worship of banned deities, speaking banned languages, destruction of property, aiding in the escape of others.

 What I’m saying is: this isn’t black and white. The evidence, modern and historical does not paint a clear picture of violence leading to obedience.

 Instead I believe that it shows humans are resilient, stubborn, adaptable creatures. People can survive all kinds of horrible situations. It is more accurate, more human, to assume that people make rational choices.

 Sometimes those choices involve short term compliance while looking for a better option or a way out. But we tend to hear less stories about the people who completely refuse to comply. We tend to treat that as an impossible fiction when it is a recorded historical and modern reality.

 Bringing this back to writing as a general rule the more complicated the act the less likely you can force someone to do it. Because the more complicated it is the more opportunities they’ll have to sabotage it or use it against their abuser.

 I recommend reading up on the history of Haiti pet. Then Brazil via Palmares.

 I’ll end this by bringing it back to those statistics on forced confessions in historical France. Imagine the conditions with me for a moment. Unsanitary, cramped cells. Dehydration, starvation and disease. Plus the kinds of scarring torture that are conjured up in the minds of most Western people when the word ‘torture’ comes up; thumb screws, leg irons that tighten until the bone snaps, whips.

 Picture it. Try to imagine the pain those people went through.

 And remember that 90% of them did not comply long enough to sign their name.

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Disclaimer

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Oils

Cult girl socializes at the opera and receives an unexpected call. 

Note: I tagged this as “anti mlm” as in multi-level marketing and not men-loving-men. 

Trigger warnings: Discussions of cults and emotional manipulation

It wasn't until after the opera was over that people began to notice you may have had a little fun during intermission. Hannibal's hair wasn't in its usual perfect side part and his jacket was slightly wrinkled in places. You could cover most of his love bites with your stole, but nothing could hide that post-orgasm glow.

Most opera-goers stayed to socialize for hours after the show concluded, making an already long night even longer. It was like clubbing, but for rich old people.

"So you're the future Mrs. Hannibal Lecter?" A woman with silvery hair said. She dragged her husband into the conversation by the arm. "I've heard so much about you."

You were about to say something witty, but noticed the way she was looking at you. Scanning you up and down. Looking for anything out of place to grill you about.

"Only good things, I hope." Hannibal said in your silence. His voice was vaguely threatening. "She is a doctoral student, in her second year of her graduate studies in clinical psychology."

The husband, who, up to this point, hadn't spoken a word, perked up. "Is that right?"

You smiled, excited for the chance to talk about your passion. "Yes sir. I've still got quite a ways to go, but I love my work."

"You should be proud." The man praised, looking at Hannibal. "You've got yourself an ambitious wife."

"Oh, we're not married yet." You corrected.

"So when can we expect an invitation?" The woman asked.

"Six months from now, isn't it?" Hannibal answered. "Memorial day weekend. Then I'm taking her to Italy for a lengthy honeymoon."

The woman threw her head back and sighed. "That sounds heavenly."

"You young modern girls are always so intuitive." The man commented. "I'll bet you tricked him into marrying you."

You wanted to call this guy out for his sexist bullshit, but he wasn't far off. It was Hannibal who tricked you, though.

Technically, he proposed to you within the first six months. You just didn't know it. It took until shockingly recently to find out.

It was during a ballroom dancing lesson of all places. You were sweaty, but loved the feeling of your lover's hands gently guiding your movements. You stepped away from the lesson to get some water, and innocently asked when he would propose to you.

"I believe I already did." He said with enough conviction to blur the lines of seriousness and sarcasm.

"You pretended to." You corrected. "Remember? We were just pretending to be engaged for Anna's wedding."

"But it didn't end after the wedding, did it?" He observed. "You kept calling me your fiancé long after that weekend passed."

You paused, then threw your head back in exasperation. "Oh my god, Hannibal."

Hannibal laughed. "I told you. Someday it won't be a lie."

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" You pressed your fingers to your temples. "So we've been engaged this whole time?"

"What can I say?" He said, gently. "I knew you were my one and only even then. It was just a matter of circumventing your inhibitions."

"I'm not complaining." You folded your arms. "But a little notice would have been nice."

"Well, if you insist." He laced his fingers between his own. "[F/N] [L/N]. Will you be my wife?"

Even though the question was truly just a formality, you were still as giddy as a schoolgirl to hear those words.

"Yes, Hannibal Lecter." You said, cheeks stinging from smiling so hard. "I will marry you."

Then you just went back to the dance lesson like nothing happened. It was shockingly in-character for both of you.

"No." You shook your head. "We killed someone together and took a blood oath to never separate."

The couple laughed. Hannibal looked down at you with pride.

“So [F/N].” The man said. “Have you given any thought to your doctoral dissertation?” 

“Oh, Charles.” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she didn’t come here to be grilled about her studies.” 

“No, it’s okay.” You smiled. As long as you were talking about school, you weren’t being interrogated about the thirty-year age gap between you and Hannibal. “I have been thinking about my dissertation. There are plenty of fascinating topics to choose from, but I can’t not write it about, well, the reason I began to study psychology in the first place.” 

“And that is?” The man raised an eyebrow.

“Cults.” You said, grinning ear to ear. “Understanding them, their leaders, their followers, why people join them. How they evolve and grow more insidious as time passes. What form they’re starting to take in the digital age.” 

“That is interesting.” The woman’s voice rose, connoting genuine engagement. “And what form are they taking in the digital age?” 

You looked up at Hannibal, as if to ask for permission. Permission to rip into her and burn that bridge for good. He answered in the affirmative. 

“Ma’am, could I take a look at your bracelet?” You asked, already knowing exactly what she would say. 

Her face lit up. “Oh, do you like it?”

She pulled it off her wrist and handed it to you. You brought it to your nose and took a whiff, confirming your theory. Then you handed it off to Hannibal, whose sense of smell was much more refined. He took one breath, then recoiled. 

Hannibal covered his mouth and nose with his hand and coughed. “That is... quite strong, Mrs. DeMarco.” 

“It’s Affirm, by doTERRA.” She revealed, her voice growing defensive. “It helps you ground yourself and remember your worth.” 

You handed the bracelet back to her. “Do you sell doTERRA, Mrs. DeMarco?” 

“Well, now that you mention it...” A small smile appeared on her lips. “Why? Would you like to buy some?” 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, ma’am, but...” You lied. “You’re actually in a cult.” 

She had nothing to say to that. She just stared at you with her mouth agape, urging you to explain yourself. 

“Multilevel marketing companies employ a host of cult manipulation tactics to con people out of their savings.” You explained. “Just because the promise is financial independence instead of a spot in paradise, doesn’t mean it’s not a lie. Research conducted by the Federal Trade Commission shows that the vast majority of participants actually lose money. The statistics are just a google search away, yet thousands of people still insist on the legitimacy of the companies they sell for.” 

“Well, I-” She protested, but couldn’t find the words to defend herself. “I’m there for the community, really. For the first time in years, I have a sisterhood of like-minded women who love me!” 

You smiled through a cringe. “That’s another pretty common cult manipulation tactic. They appropriate familial language to make people feel more connected to the group than they really should be.” 

Although you didn’t expect her to, she looked to be genuinely considering it. 

“Next time you see your ‘sisters’,” You began. “Pay attention to how they talk about people who are not in the group. Or, better yet, tell them that you’re considering leaving. You’ll see how conditional their love is.” 

An awkward, deafening silence followed. The woman looked at her husband, as if willing him to do something. To stand up to the evil twenty-something grad student who had the audacity to cite her sources. 

Instead, the husband just burst out in riotous laughter. 

“Miriam!” He nearly shouted, heaving like he was about to collapse. “I told you that oil business was up to no good! No honest company makes their employees pay to work!” 

The woman’s face turned red. You almost felt bad for her. The feeling vanished when the man put his hand on your shoulder. 

“Seriously, Dr. Lecter, you’d better keep this one.” He said, wiping a tear from his eye. “She’s an absolute godsend.” 

“No divine intervention was involved whatsoever, Dr. DeMarco.” Hannibal smiled to himself and brought a glass of champagne to his lips. “She is a woman of her own making."

"Oh, we all know that's not entirely true." The woman snapped, slipping into passive-aggression. She glanced at Hannibal. "How much are you spending on this mouthy little know-it-all? Isn't it about $80k a year?"

You, of course, brought this on yourself. You threw down the gauntlet by going after this girlboss's side hustle, so now nothing was off-limits.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Mrs. DeMarco." Hannibal said, calmly. "My soon-to-be wife's education is a much better investment than that overpriced napalm you wear on your wrist."

You couldn't help but laugh at that. It was a laugh you shared with the man. Hannibal looked down at you, admiring how your face lit up.

"You'll forgive my wife's rudeness." The man requested. "Please, Ms. [F/N], tell me more about your dissertation."

"Well," you laced your fingers together. "I'm planning to write my dissertation on the cult of academic elitism."

"I would tread lightly, dear." The woman warned, eyes darting to Hannibal. "You wouldn't want to bite the hand that feeds you."

You adjusted your stole, giving them a quick glance at the love bites along your neck.

"I assure you." You said. "He quite likes it when I bite."

Your clutch started to aggressively, audibly vibrate. You could have sworn you'd put your phone on silent, but it buzzed nonetheless.

"Probably just, y'know-" you stuttered, embarrassed. "An amber alert or something."

"We are expecting a snowstorm, I believe. I was warned of it a few minutes ago." Hannibal said, always ready to cover your ass whenever needed. The couple nodded along in understanding.

You pulled your phone from your clutch. Your eyes widened and your face turned sickly pale at the sight of a caller you thought you’d never hear from again. Without thinking, you slid the deny icon across the screen. 

“Right.” You said, tucking your phone and your secrets back into the clutch. “Winter Storm... Theresa is headed this way.” 

Hannibal cleared his throat. “In that case, [F/N] and I must take our leave before we get snowed in. It was very nice catching up with you. I will see to it that [F/N] and I have you for dinner very soon.” 

[marshmallowprotection]

Oh gosh, that post about Saeyoung and his characterization made me want to clap! I once had an argument with one fan who was bashing on him for... 'loving his brother more than he loves us'??? That literally made me feel weirded out. Like, damn. And yeah, a lot of people make him seem more cruel, than he is in canon. I think there's a similar problem with Suit! Like, yeah, he was acting aggressive and harmful - that's undeniable. But... he never really directly hurt us? It's more bark than bite. Well, maybe except for that bite and pushing us on the floor, but in fanon it's always way more extreme than that. I read a few fics where he literally tortures mc and enjoys it, and... it always felt so wrong to me. And I love dark scenarios! I have a few aus myself, but there's always some outside force, that makes them act this way. Like, I can imagine him isolating us or locking us in the room. But I literally cannot imagine him, for example, tying us up and hurting us directly. I genuinely don't believe he's capable of that... Maybe it's just my interpretation of him, I don't really know.

But yeah, I've seen a lot of people in my native fandom, who hate Choi bros, cause they... care for each other?? It's so confusing to me, as a huge Saeyoung fan. Like, his love for his family always made me appreciate him more, why would it push someone away? Of course he should put Saeran first - he's in a cult for Gods sake! It did made me feel a bit upset at the time, when in the Secret Endings we barely got any interaction with him, but it wouldn't feel the same otherwise. I first fell in love with Saeran during the Secret Endings, cause I related to him so much at the time. I just remember crying my eyes out reading his inner thoughts. I think that's why Unknown and SE Saeran are my favourites, haha. And all of that wouldn't be possible if the story was only focusing on our romance with Saeyoung!

So yeah, sorry for the rant, but I just wanted to express my opinion on the matter. I think false characterization is a pretty annoying problem in all fandoms. And that's just Saeyoung and Suit! We could discuss literally every single character in mysme here lmao

Sorry for my huge essay btw I really should be sleeping right now, but I read that post and just couldn't resist ahaha

It's always something, y'know?

Yes, they're angry and bitter, but it hurts to see people think that's all there is to their character. I don't know how many times I've had to go and explain to people that Suit Saeran is afraid. He believes anger is a sword and a shield, if he cries first, they can't make him cry.

It's not a healthy mentality and it hurts him greatly, and he knows that even if his malice was meant for him, you suffered. He apologizes and you're there to say, "I know, I forgive you, and I hope to stay by your side as you heal and become better for yourself."

Suit Saeran is able to say he fucked up. He wasn't right to do what he did and he pays for it. He may say that he likes seeing you cry and be upset, but he doesn't. He just can't admit vulnerability. He just saw Ray get basically torn limb from limb for loving somebody, of course, he's not okay right now.

He locks you in your room, but God, he'd never tie you up or physically beat you. I know why Cheritz added in the bite to that VN itself because it gets them paid for adding in those elements, but I don't care for that, myself. Because I can't see him lashing out in any physical way. Emotionally, yes, but not physically.

If you pay attention to what happens, the only time he touches you is the bite, when he pushes you against the ground, and maybe if you want to count when he nudged you against the wall? But, I think that last one was more him making you walk yourself into a corner.

And it's worse with Unknown because... God, it's so twisted up and it makes me sick. People should write whatever they want to write and enjoy that content, but if I had a dollar for every time I opened a story about Unknown and it turned into Torture Porn, I'd be rich and upset at the same time. Unknown and SE Saeran were also what pulled me in during 2016, so their characterizations mean a lot to me.

Unknown isn't like Ray or Suit Saeran. He doesn't care for you like those two do. You're his eyes. You're a tool. But, he still finds a sense of amusement in you. You're interesting to him. That's just... yeah, it's going to be a mess when you consider him in romance, but it doesn't need to be as grimdark as I've seen for years. I don't even wanna get into that because I'll just get upset. I just wish people tagged things properly because I get so disheartened looking for Unknown stuff and it's just. that.

And Saeyoung gets this rough, too. People will make him out to be the joker that he doesn't want to be. Yes, he loves to play pranks and have fun, but that's not all he is. Don't just lump him off as that one thing. Saeyoung did what he had to do for Saeran in the SE. I'm sorry that he closed himself off again. But what choice did he have at that moment?

Leave Saeran in the hospital to die? Because if he kept lashing out, he was going to get more attention and focus. Not even Jumin Han can protect Saeran from that. He can't. Saejoong would've found him and he would've been fucked royally. Saeyoung made a hard choice, take his brother from the hospital because if he didn't, Saeran would likely die. Yes, that was a bad choice because Saeran needs therapy and specialized care, but he had two options. Let Saeran die or try to help Saeran himself.

It was a mess.

It was a horrible mess but they made due. I personally imagine them to be getting therapy after things settle and they're able to do what they need to do. God, just. Yeah. Fanon is going to happen and there isn't a lot anyone can do. This happens to every character and we're all just going to cry.

[dumbasscorn]

Exothermic - chapter seventeen

Amalthea vs Trevor Uley

"Now explain and plead for mercy, or meet the consequences, you little prick!"

previous chapter

980 words

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Amalthea glared at the youngest Uley, crossing her arms instead of moving to hug. Like she'd ever do that!

"Hey." Trevor pouted, gesturing with grabbing hands that he wanted the girl to hug him, not close in on herself.

Rather than walking into his warm arms, Thea squinted her eyes as she saw Bella walk outside with Jacob out of the corner of her eye. "Some deadly illness, huh! Jackson is gonna be pissed when he finds out you've been skipping to join your brothers 'cult'. I'm snitching right away, I am so very serious."

Trevor nervously laughed and dropped his welcoming arms, copying Mal's own movements. "You love me too much to snitch on me, Mal!"

Knowing he was dead wrong, Thea jokingly kicked him in the shin, releasing both her arms from being constricted and gave him double middle fingers.

The two ignored the snickers they heard from the boys behind Trevor, Embry especially loud with his barely hidden giggles.

"Now explain and plead for mercy, or meet the consequences, you little prick!" She whispered in aggravation, needing assurance that she wasn't going crazy and that wolves were actually very, very real. Trevor nodded, "Definitely."

Before the two could speak once more, Sam cut in, grunting for his brother to follow him. Both Trevor and Amalthea looked at each other, knowing that they sure as hell were not going to separate this soon. Trevor missed Thea and her jokes greatly, and the other needed the distraction that Trevor provided.

"I went weeks without my bestie. We can chat later, man." He sighed, tired of Sam keeping him from his friends.

Thea, for the first time since she met the boy, bumped his fist and agreed with his words. Though, later on she would deny that she had agreed that they were besties in that moment. She surely was not planning on letting the one person she actually knew away from her.

Knowing that his brother was glaring heatedly at the back of his head, Trevor faced Thea and went to introduce the other people in the room.

"The idiot over there inhaling his food is Embry. Feel free to accidentally step on his foot whenever you walk past him. I do it and he gets annoyed every time-- never gets old." Thea looked at the boy she threw a water bottle at, agreeing with Trevor that annoying him would probably be funny.

"That's Jared. Allow yourself to dislike him-- he's annoying." Trevor went to tell her about how he was so annoying, but was cut off by Sam eyeing him and Jared yelling a "hey!"

"Next we got Sam and Emily. Em's cool. She's the one with to-die-for muffins that you're not allowed to have because you weren't nice. You know about.... you know." He widened his eyes with exasperation before rolling them. Thea couldn't help but nod her head, remembering that she got her muffin privileges taken away. She would absolutely later go on to snag one.

"Lastly we've got Paul. Mega anger machine. But also like, funny sometimes. Depends if you've stolen from his plate or not." Trevor snorted as Amalthea avoided the eyes of the man who tried to maul her cousin.

"Uh oh, what happened? Why're you not laughing with me? Did dummy do something? What-- what'd he do?" The boy caught on to her ignoring Paul, feeling concerned on why she already had a distaste for the hot-head.

He glared at Paul, "What'd you do, Lahote? She only doesn't make eye contact when she's super pissed. How'd you manage to do that so quickly?" Paul snickered into his muffin, eyeing the short girl next to his friends brother.

"Nothing to her." He smirked, remembering he was stopped before he could yell at her.

Embry coughed on his food, having an idea on what was to come from the funny girl who was definitely livid about her cousin being in danger. Jared eyed the scene, ready for the entertainment that was about to be provided by the two- well three including Trevor when finds out what happened.

"Hm. Only turning into a big ass wolf cause Bella rightfully socked him." Thea clenched her hands, feeling the crescent moon shapes from her finger nails indenting into the palm of her hands. "Then, her little flake joined and they brawled right in front of Bella. Thank god she didn't get pummeled by the fucking morons." Amalthea filled Trevor in on what the past hour and a half entailed, keeping her eyes trained on the floor as she plotted Paul's homicide.

Of course Trevor was beyond angry by this revelation, completely disregarding Paul attempting to defend himself. He stared blankly at the shifter, struggling to keep his fury under wraps as to not make his friend afraid of him too.

"Lahote, what in the actual hell were you thinking? Don't say that bullshit of 'I got angry, I can't help it!', nobody wants to hear it. She could've gotten hurt. Are you fucking serious!" Trevor shook as he spoke harshly to Paul, before getting nudged by Thea.

"Dude, I was in a car. We're pissed and worried about Bella right now!" The girl reminded him, accentuating her point with hands waving around, dropping them to her hips once she met eyes with the angry teen.

Humming, Trevor looked back to Paul, glaring.

"Don't shift near Amalthea, - or her cousin--", he mentioned after he was nudged by Mal,-- "again, Lahote." He stated, shocking Thea by the use of her actual name. Oh, he was angry angry. He gripped her wrist, walking past his brother and to the front entrance.

Trevor ignored Sam calling his name, continuing to guide his friend toward the walk that awaited them. He was going to calm down, and he was going to tell her where he's been. Now she definitely deserves to know.

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this is gaining more attention lately, i just might cry. i forgot to post this yesterday lols sorry about that

omg guys i have a really bad spider problem rn and i have such a fear of them that like i can't sleep because they keep crawling on the ceiling and being mf scary 

tag list: @ivettt @jjpogueprincess @demigodslut @sftpjmn @wandas-love​ @catgirlpwr​

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me an ask or message me! Do the same if you’d like to be removed. :) 

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[incarnateirony]

Hi uh, are you a destielgate blog? What's been going on? I tried to read on your latest posts but I guess I got out of touch because I couldn't follow a single thing. Did Brazil leak a script??

Oh good lord RIP

I don’t know what all has fallen under “destielgate”, but I’ve seen some people tag some of my posts that. 

I’ll TRY to get into this with cliff’s notes history of events ‘round here.

 September 2nd a group of fans received information passed from the Brazillian dubbing studio including that a Me Too would come from Dean, even though this isn’t in the US script (as several things even in the US version are not in the script). The fans spent about 2 months trying to debunk it, including eventually re-establishing contact with the source who had disappeared because of covid (because Brazil), and eventually acquiring more information.

This fell into obscurity because it was never publicly posted to begin with due to the means of receipt, among other things. But admittedly the related blogs were full of clownwhistles about it, etc. Then LatAM dub came in with a steel chair with it’s “And I, You”, which then of course made this two countries involved in this.

Some people remembered the Me Too bloggers and pretty much everything in our orbit lit on fire as a result. People, Misha included, threw the “rogue dubber” excuse around, until someone who even worked for the same dubbing company (LatAM, not the Brazil one -- just on other shows, not SPN) explained how impossible that was. 

Summarily, it was explained the tiers of production and corporate approval needed for it, and that “rogue dubber” was impossible, so the content came from somewhere; they also highlighted the difference between “bad dub” lines being thrown as excuses and just pretending people can totally make shit up. But that’s when “conspiracy theory” started getting thrown around.

Which is actually pretty funny, because one side just has a dubber going “uh, that’s impossible, this came from somewhere, here’s how dubbing works.”

The other side has built in their own head a two country wide spanning international rebellion of rogue hellers at multiple tiers of production (script receit, translation, the director, the voice actors, and the person at LatAM WB that had to approve it for air). Which, IDK man. Sounds like a conspiracy theory to me, fam.

Around that time, a lot of weird shit happened in my orbit-- the CW employee prattling on and not realizing I was pulling corporate details out of them, a variety of hilariously bad blogs fishing for what exact kind of content we had. Any attempts at addressing the situation so far had the CW falling on its ass. We choose to be very vague about this as a result, because it doesn’t let them make another statement, since they know they can continue to fall on their ass.

After this, people started accusing us of being “cult like”, because we didn’t give out the leaks we have -- be it the Brazil leak, or any other number of leaks. We were incredibly cautious with distributing them for a number of reasons (source security, potential for being fake [they all went through debunk periods, etc]). 

Ironically, the people spreading the “cult like” accusation, for a group of quiet fans minding their own shit in a discord collecting information, are the same fans that sit in big Destiel servers talking about how ITK they are, what their sources say, and to DM them for leaks, which is itself perfectly hilarious. They started saying they believe in “open source” information and just spent a week dragging me around the block.

So, I decided to post some open-source information! Unsurprisingly, they’re summarily yelling “NO NOT LIKE THAT.” because it was never actually about how we handle or distribute information. In fact, half of it sources from a hate campaign from a big name fan who has a grudge because I disagreed with her on her use of the word subtext A YEAR AGO. She’s done it in waves, this is the third wave since.

Are we supposed to be open sourced? Closed source? Just-the-way-that-keeps-them-relevant sourced? Can somebody make up their minds? 

Either way, that’s about the history of where we’re at and WHY we’re at where we’re at in this little corner of the woods.

Oh and memes. Apparently memes like “pierogi” and “Castiel’s uterus”. Also vry scary and cultlike.