#superstitious post

[little-witchys-garden]

Rules for the woods

Never step on a beetle because they don't forgive easily.

Well the folk that disguise themselves as beetles don't forgive easily.

[moonlightmirrorball]

reblog to get a girlfriend 2023

[lepidopteragirl]

checked tiktok for the first time in a few days, Karlnapity wedding is my biggest wish and it will come true, the fyp said so 🙏🙏🙏🙏 manifest with me

-

SAURRR REAL ITS COMING

[bruisedconscience]

me: sees the march good luck post

my email: phone interview request :)

me: 👀

edit: its??? customer service i applied to that SAYS?? you get a lot of money????? must be by commission idk how sounds like a Scam???

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

Like to charge and reblog to manifest

[ineffable-gallimaufry]

hi just want to say if you reblog posts like "REBLOG THIS OR YOU HATE GAY PEOPLE AND FIVE KITTENS WILL DIE" and you don't tag reblog bait or SOMETHING i hate you so much

[cthulhusstepmom]

Fae!Soap Superstitious Bastard! Ghost: Gifts

(Just a heads up this got way more intense than I meant it to but that’s kind of the Fae for you.)

TW: mentions of torture, human remains

Soap is a collector, though not of any one thing that Ghost can discern. He’s seen the man pick up anything from an abandoned rolex to a nondescript piece of broken glass. It doesn’t seem to be about size, it’s not shape and definitely not value; Ghost had thought he’d pinned it down as things that caught the light a certain way but was swiftly proven wrong when Soap went on a spree of collecting pebbles and sticks. He’d glared sullenly at the first jagged gray rock when Soap had picked it up before swiftly changing the subject when he was noticed. There was no apparent rhyme or reason to any of it… well not quite. There was one singular pattern that stood out in his mind, a single thread that held firm no matter how much he rearranged or plucked at it.

 Anything that Ghost gave him, Johnny kept. 

The first had been a bit of pretty blue ribbon that was a close enough approximation to Soap’s eyes. It’d snagged on a bramble bordering the clearing where Ghost had set up for overwatch. Without even thinking he’d snagged it on his way to RV down the hill, offering it to Johnny in the armored car taking them back to base. Soap hadn’t said a thing. It was then that Ghost realized maybe giving your subordinate a piece of trash you’d found in a bush perhaps wasn’t the most well adjusted way to express affection. He’d been about to play it off with a quip, beginning to retract his fingers ever so slightly, when Johnny snatched it lightning quick from the palm of his hand, holding it close to his chest for a moment before stuffing it into his chest pocket next to his journal. Soap had given him a small strangled “Thank you” as they sat the rest of the ride in an awkward but warm silence. Johnny disappeared almost immediately after they got back to base but Ghost could see light in the space under his door so he wasn’t too worried that he’d done permanent damage to their relationship.

After that his eyes just seemed to catch on things that he assumed Johnny would like. He couldn’t help it. Little glass marbles, a river stone with an interesting marking, a large brown feather; Somehow it all made its way into the hands of his Sergeant. Usually with a gruff “Here”, barely waiting for Johnny to hold out his hands before he dropped his small offering into his gloved palms. Soap has also gotten over whatever his episode of silence had been, responding with a blinding smile and enthusiastic gratitude and a happy quip. (“Thanks Lt!” a piece of antler, Montana “Y’ shouldn’t have!” an old toy car, Finland “Find this on sale?” a scrap of pink fabric, Brazil “Ghost you’re spoiling me.” green river stone, India etc.(no he didn’t catalog all of them that would be creepy. He only wrote down his favorites.))

The next time Ghost thinks he’s permanently damaged their relationship and scared Soap off for good comes after an operation sweeping out an AQ base in Afghanistan. 

It’s stuffy and dark, the blistering heat of the day beginning to fade into the bitter chill of the night. The compound has long since been abandoned by all but the stubbornest of rats, slowly being reclaimed by the wild desert it carved its blackness into. They roll into the courtyard through the open front gate, the outer walls have seen multiple breacher charges and calling them walls at this point is more out of respect than any dedication to accuracy. The whole place has already been swept by drone and Laswell has had satellite eyes on it for months confirming just how fucking dead it is. They’re here for information, the drone identified documents left behind as well as at least two hard drives. 

The 141 has split off, each clearing their own section and radioing in at even intervals, they’ve learned the hard way that it’s better to be safe than sorry. Beyond extra caution, the whole place has an eerie, black aura that drags forth memories of scorpion stings and dull knives biting at his flesh. Assisting in his nightmarish stroll down memory lane, Ghost is assigned the lower levels of the compound. Each room is another scene from a past he tries to forget, filled with rusted over implements of pain and brown stains no one cared to clean. 

Something in the last room makes him pause. 

A small barred window allows light from a waning moon to pool into the room, catching on something on the table. Small, most no bigger than his fingernail, a collection of about five objects sits in a tray on the corner of the table. Brilliant white patches shine in stark opposition to the bed of rust brown they lay on. 

Teeth. Human teeth.

His mind is acting on autopilot when grabs them and stuffs them in a pocket, so similar but so different to his first experience with the ribbon months ago. He finishes his sweep of the room, conveying his findings back on comms (“Seems like we’re late for the party.” “If only you didn’t take so long to get ready.”-Soap “Shut the fuck up the both of you I just saw a rat the size of a terrier.”-Gaz “I’ve got the hard drives if any of you fuckers remember why we’re here.”-Price), and turns back to rendezvous, his mind now firmly on finding his comrades and getting the hell out.

As they start readying themselves to duck into the humvees they arrived in, Ghost’s muscle memory kicks in to complete his self assigned mission objective. He turns to where Soap stands almost expectantly at his side. It’s not every mission that he has something he’s decided is a worthy offering but it has become more often than not. Mind already halfway back to base, a gloved hand chases down each tooth where they’ve burrowed themselves in the pocket of his tac vest, collecting them and dropping them in Soap’s proffered hand with a grunt. His brain turns back on when the bloody bones hit his Sergeant’s glove, panicking because what the fuck did he just do? What kind of fucking sociopath gives his friend(more?) human fucking teeth as a souvenir. Much less human fucking teeth that were pulled forcibly out of some poor bastard’s skull during a bygone torture session. 

His hand is trembling. 

Ghost forces himself to look down and meet Soap’s assuredly outraged and disgusted gaze. 

Only he doesn’t.

Johnny is staring down at the teeth in his palm with a look of fucking reverence. His pupils are dilated beyond just the darkness surrounding them and Ghost’s detail oriented eyes catch the slight flare of his nostrils on every inhale. Soap slowly tilts his head up to meet Ghost’s eyes and a gasp lives and dies in his throat.

“Oh Simon, you treat me so well.” His voice is gravelly and thrumming with an emotion that Ghost doesn’t know the name of. But, god if this is the look he gets after bringing Johnny desiccated human remains?

He’ll rip the teeth out of some unworthy son of a bitch himself.

[jaggedcliffs]

I've started up listened to the Re: Dracula audiobook (and reading a copy of Dracula that I picked up on a whim from an indie bookstore last month), and quite a few things are sticking out to me about the first few days

Jonathan's "I must ask the Count about these superstitions" was made fun of quite a bit, both because our cultural knowledge of Dracula makes it ridiculous, and also because he seems to be trusting the nobility's knowledge over the superstitious peasants, which ties into the sense that Jonathan is dismissive of the townspeople's warnings

But he opens his May 4th entry with asking the innkeepers for information about Dracula, and they keep ducking the answers.

(and it's fair that the people in the May 4th/5th entries don't say more when Jonathan asks (and he does ask), because unless you've grown up in the shadow of a vampire literally stealing babies from your villages, it would be a pretty insane thing to tell someone).

And when Jonathan finds the innkeepers' reactions "not by any means comforting," his first instinct is to want to ask other townspeople to find out more; he just doesn't have the time to investigate because the coach is (supposed to) arrive very soon after.

Plus, the innkeeper giving him the cross very much does freak him out! His first refrain of 'if I die, goodbye Mina!' comes at the end of the May 4th entry because of the innkeeper's worry.

The people speaking of "werewolves" and "vampires" only happens after he's already sitting in the coach -- which is when he makes the "ask the Count" note (a note that he likely makes because, again, he's sitting in coach and he's about to leave the townspeople behind). They only make a sign to guard him from the evil eye after the coach has just started on its way.

Before he leaves the town, Jonathan isn't given enough of a solid reason to present to his boss -- or to his client, if the client turned out to be a human person who doesn't imprison solicitors -- if he turned around or wasted the client's time and money by refusing the "best place on the coach" on the way to the castle. Nor is he given enough time after the first warning that something is off to find that solid reason or to find alternatives.

He even comments that as much as he's enjoying the scenery on the coach, he probably would enjoy it a lot less if he'd understood what the people on the coach were saying. It's more like he's trying to distract himself from the looming sense of dread, not that he's ignorant to it.

By the time Dracula is taking him in the calèche, the coach is barely out of sight before he outright says that he "think[s] had been any alternative [he] should have taken it" instead of doing whatever the fuck is happening to him now.

It's not just that he planned to ask the Count about the superstitions, but that he also wanted to ask the people about the Count. He wants to ask the Count about the superstitions because he isn't able to talk to the townspeople more. And he wants to ask the townspeople about the Count because the little he's heard so far worries him.

But after he gets his first warning of weirdness, he doesn't have the time to investigate further, or find a way to the castle in a way that doesn't put him in the count's power. Which is probably how Dracula wanted it

[sisterofthesouth]

Roddacember Day 9: Symbols and Signs. Or, my thoughts and headcanons on piercings in different Deltoran cultures:

del: it's very common to see people with pierced ears or noses, given that del is a diverse city full of sailors and trade and people from all over. but while nearly every career sailor from anywhere in the world has some kind of piercing, the popularity of piercings in del cannot be chalked up simply to the impact of sailors and trade. many del tribesmembers wear ear piercings proudly because adin himself had his ears pierced during his time with the mere, and earlobe piercings came to be seen as a celebration of del pride and deltoran unification. it later became part of the Rule that the monarch and their immediate family also have one set of earlobe piercings to emulate the first king.

ralads: while it is not unheard of for ralads to wear ear or nose piercings, it is far more common for their clothes to be pierced. sashes, purses, capes, pockets, shirts and tunics will often be pierced with decorative hoops and jeweled studs to accent their embroidery and show off the riches or skill of the wearer.

broome: citizens of broome never wore jewelry during dragon times, especially not women, but as dragon populations waned, non-metallic jewelry (made from bone, shell, wood, etc) became more fashionable. after the total disappearance of the dragons, piercings and jewelry made of gold and other precious metals exploded in popularity and you’d be hard-pressed to find any broome resident without at least one piercing.

opal territory: ear piercings may have been somewhat common centuries ago, but fell entirely out of fashion after the hira rat plague began. because of sanitary taboos, hirans (and noradz residents) never wear piercings. among opal residents outside of hira and noradz, especially those in the more rural areas near the lapis border, occasional ear or nose piercings may be seen due to cultural exchange with the mere, but they hold no significant meaning to those of the opal tribe.

the mere: in the mere if you don't have piercings you're literally cursed lmaooooo. everyone has some combination of ear, nose, or facial piercings, and non-standard piercings like tongue, belly button, and nipple piercings are extremely common as well. piercings may be worn simply for aesthetic reasons, but it is far more common for each piercing and piece of jewelry to have a deep symbolic meaning to it’s wearer. as with mere charm culture, there is a deep history of fortunetelling and superstition within mere piercing culture. many mere will consult a piercing expert or soothsayer to determine what piercing placement, metal, and charm combination will bring them the best fortune. after the unification of the tribes, it became popular for many mere to wear an array of 7 piercings on one (or both) of their ears.

dread gnomes: dread gnomes may sometimes wear piercings, but they do not deal in metallurgy and do not wear piercings for fashion. spikes of wood or bone in the ears or nose are worn to as markers of membership to certain clans or families.

torans: torans do not wear piercings.

jalis: while tattoos are standard jalis practice, piercings among the jalis are uncommon because they are such easy targets to tear out in a brawl. however, it is extremely common for the very old who have grown past their fighting years to wear ear piercings as a rite of passage into elderhood. if you do happen to see a young jalis with piercings, they are either someone very foolhardy and stupid, or perhaps a tenna birdsong storyteller who is not likely to see combat.

[little-witchys-garden]

Rules for the Woods

If you see person or a pet that has passed on in the woods, Do not go towards them.

That isn't your loved one.

[moonlightmirrorball]

reblog to welcome the horrors into 2023

[eemoo1o-animoo]

What if Ciel stepped on a crack in the ground and Sebastian’s spine just snapped in half.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

nothing like a call from your mother to make that escapism feel extra sweet

[ozlices]

it's been a long ass while since i've gotten so many notes (since i rarely, if ever, have energy to make actual content on here) but i just wanna say it's truly heartwarming to see my activity blow up as we all bond over our mutual, thriving, visceral hatred of james somerton. just truly beautiful to see people come together for a good cause like this.

[rongzhi]

What are some censorship rules that you feel you could most comfortably poke fun at without feeling like you could get in some kind of trouble or ending up on some watchlist for doing?

I guess the FOSTA/SESTA censorship law is a pretty miserable piece of legislation that has had a net negative impact on society since day 1. If I could find something funny about it, I'd definitely go for that one.

Although, you can make fun of it directly without being put on some watchlist, though keep in mind this is the law that laid groundwork for online surveillance/suppression of sex workers, and is basically the blueprint for some anti-abortion legislation proposals that would make it illegal to discuss obtaining abortions online. so if some people have their way, someday you COULD get put on a list for giving tips and info online to those seeking abortions. but i digress.

[good-beanswrites]

Just wanted to plant an idea if you wanted a bit of fuel: Mahiru asking Yuno to come to her cell before everything goes down.

Edit: I forgot the ask didn't say it but this is part of Kyanako's incredible Order Of Attack AU!

Didn't mean for this to become a mini Mappi study but here we are ✨ Thank you for the request! I fully intended to write them hanging out, but it's more right before they hang out lol. Went a bit on-the-nose with foreshadowing, but isn't that the fun part? It has become Emotional Over Mahiru Hour...

I kept things vague, but TW for mentioning her boyfriend's state of potential self-harm

Mahiru tried not to act superstitious, she really did. As much as she loved the idea of little luck charms, or avoided easy signs of misfortune, it was easier to keep quiet about such ridiculous things.

Maybe catching a bride’s bouquet meant no guarantees; maybe there was no real harm in stepping underneath ladders, maybe a coin tossed into a fountain had no real magic to its wish. However, the one thing she knew for sure held power was a lucky presence. Being in the right place at the right time could alter everything. And today was the right time for something. There was this waiting in the air. The prison had been holding its breath. Mahiru knew it was time to release it all.

“You must be so lonely, why don’t you let big sis Mahiru keep you company?” She beamed at Amane.

She often recalled the good fortune that she and a certain young man had crossed paths on the university terrace. She used to laugh with him about the wonderful coincidence of bumping into each other outside of the bakery, then the convenience store. 

Though she’d never spoken about it to him, she was also grateful for many occasions where she walked in on him at the precise moment to talk him out of something reckless. She always told him that they’d do everything together. He didn’t need to be alone anymore. 

“I wish to be alone. I need peace of mind to think.” Amane turned away from the cell door.

It was a good thing, too. Mahiru’s smile wasn’t as convincing as she said, “o-oh. Of course.”

She made her way around the panopticon, hearing Fuuta pace his cell in anticipation. He must have felt it too, this holding of breath. 

Or perhaps not. He turned down her offer for a bit of company, including a few more colorful words than Amane had. Mahiru just apologized for bothering him and headed back to her cell. She wasn’t sure where Mikoto was at this hour, but she didn’t feel like smiling through a third rejection.

She shook her head back and forth. She wished the motion could rattle the voices inside, she wished she could shake them all away. With her arms secured in place she could no longer cover her ears. She used to hum to keep them at bay, but lately they’d been too loud to stifle. They just kept on talking.

Their words told her the two were right. Nobody needed her company. No – nobody wanted it. Being together hadn’t helped her boyfriend. In fact, being together had been the very thing that got him killed. No wonder Amane and Fuuta wanted to avoid her. 

So then, this was for the best. She would rather deal with the brief sting of refusal than stumble in one day to find them hurt… or worse. As much as she tried to avoid the superstition of it all, the voices reminded her that her very presence could mean life or death. 

“Mappi, are you alright?” Mahiru hadn’t realized a tear had slipped down her cheek until she hurried to swipe it away in front of Yuno. 

“Hah, I’m fine! Just fine.” It was impossible to fool her, Mahiru had learned, but that never stopped her from trying. 

At least she always spoke tactfully. “Rough morning?”

Mahiru shifted her arms in her uniform, making a small sound of agreement.

“Can I do anything to help? What if I stay with you for a bit? I can do your hair, and…”

The voices were right. Amane and Fuuta knew it, too. Presences did hold power, and Mahiru’s was cursed.

But she would sound foolish admitting such a fear to Yuno. She'd heard plenty from the voices about how stupid and airheaded she was, there was no use in getting the same lecture from someone as grounded as her.

Mahiru managed a weak protest, unable to explain her real reasoning. Yuno was insistent. She didn’t give much of a choice. Could she feel the strangeness of the prison, as well? 

At last, Mahiru allowed her shoulders to sag. Yuno was lucky. And kind. Having her nearby would do her good. Amane and Fuuta would be alright. Mahiru had tried spending more time with them after verdicts were announced. Now, she made a mental note to pull back. If her love couldn’t save anyone, at least she could spare them from her curse. They would be safe. 

“Yes. Please stay. The truth is... I don't want to be alone.”