#Shes only six evil version

[relaxxattack]

Piggybacking off the last anon, what is it you like about Jane so much? I find my feelings on her kind of mixed but I lean towards positive.

okay i haven’t read act six in probably like 5 years so bear with me here. *cracks knuckles*

jane is sooo so interesting and it’s really a shame people miss like everything fun about her.

pre-scratch she used her detective work to literally succeed at tearing down the crocker cooperation, to the point that HIC has to fucking abandon ship and head into another universe to have another shot at her evil empire. pre-scratch jane is also fucking hilarious! if you didnt enjoy her antics with john as nannasprite you must just have no heart

meanwhile HIC breaches a new universe, and her FIRST fucking order of business is to NEUTRALIZE JANE CROCKER because of how goddamn detrimental she was to HIC’s plans the first time around.

not ONLY does HIC pump subliminal messaging and brainwashing into nearly every aspect of jane’s life, she also tries to straight up mind control her basically whenever possible! she ALSO sends assassination attempts after jane 24/7! (people will seriously try to say that jane lived a safe normal life… as if she wasn’t almost killed by walking into her backyard.) this is because HIC is fucking scared of jane, as she very well should be!

jane is also NOT a boring weepy annoying crybaby like everyone and their mother complains about. jane is literally the most fucking supportive friend and emotion-repressing dumbass you could ever hope to meet. jane combines john’s emotional repression and jade’s intentional cheerfulness together into one of the most fucked up cases of emotional repression in the whole comic

act 6 suffers from a LOT of shitty writing choices, but it’s not jane’s fault the whole act turns into a soap opera— and she’s ALSO not the only one who acts all soap-opera-y either! literally all of the alpha kids suffer from this, people just like jane the least so they project it all onto her. despite the fact that she did her very fucking best to NEVER talk about her feelings, to the point where she ONLY started telling people about shit when she was mind-controlled or took mind altering substances to make her do so! and you can say “ohhh that’s stupid she shouldn’t repress things in the first place how dumb” but, one she’s sixteen, and two, everyone eats that shit up when it comes from like. literally any other character.

people (cough hs2 writers) act like she would actually be “pushy” with a relationship on jake— as if she wasn’t literally the one who helped him make the decision to explore dating dirk?? because she thought it was the right thing to do???

jane is incredibly thoughtful and mature and people really throw all of those traits out of the window with preference for a version of the story where she Comes Inbetween Their Fave Gay Pairing as if she wasn’t, again, the one who got them together. jane is also extremely interesting in terms of queerness; she’s got the makings of a really interesting arc, not to mention she’s the only human girl that dresses mainly masc! there’s a lot there that people just don’t care to explore.

people just have less patience for the prospit kids in general. not to mention homestuck fans love to be misogynistic and berate jane for stuff they love the men doing, or claim she’s coming between them when she’s not, etc etc. and then because no one was writing fun meta posts about her, nobody ever rereads the comic to grab little scenes or lines to expand the online discussion about her! and then because there’s no discussion about her, people assume she’s boring and don’t go looking for bits to start discussing, which cycles on and on forever until we have the ripple effects we see of that misogyny today. which mostly consists of, “oh i hate jane because she was a villain is hs2”, or, “i know hs2 isn’t canon but i still don’t care for jane because she doesn’t do anything that interests me.” (and she’s only not interesting because of the cycle i mentioned before causing NO ONE to have meta discussion about her).

idk, it’s been a while since ive read so i could be talking out my ass but that’s what i’ve got.

TL;DR: jane is fucking COOL, she just suffers from intentional fandom ignorance. and she’s also a canonically hot, fat, masc woman, so i don’t know what else you could possibly want.

#oh god i didn’t mean for this to get so long #lol i hope this helped???? #jane crocker #homestuck #op #hsmeta #long post

[goryhorroor]

Upcoming horror movies (some without release years) - not in order

Longlogs - FBI Agent Lee Harker is assigned to an unsolved serial killer case that takes an unexpected turn, revealing evidence of the occult. Harker discovers a personal connection to the killer and must stop him before he strikes again.

Nosferatu - A gothic tale of obsession between a haunted young woman and the terrifying vampire infatuated with her, causing untold horror in its wake.

Bermuda - Unknown details but it will be set in the mysterious patch of the Caribbean where planes and ships have gone missing over the years.

Twisters (ok thriller but imma count it because i can) - A sequel to the 1996 film about stormchasing scientists studying tornados.

Immaculate - Cecilia is warmly welcomed to the picture-perfect Italian countryside, where she is offered a new role at an illustrious convent. But it becomes clear to Cecilia that her new home harbors dark and horrifying secrets.

Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire - The film centers on the Spengler family as they return to where it all started – the iconic New York City firehouse – to team up with the original Ghostbusters, who’ve developed a top-secret research lab to take busting ghosts to the next level. But when the discovery of an ancient artifact unleashes an evil force, Ghostbusters new and old must join forces to protect their home and save the world from a second Ice Age.

Mickey's Mouse Trap - follows a group of friends who become targets of a serial killer dressed as Mickey Mouse

Imaginary - When Jessica moves back into her childhood home with her family, her youngest stepdaughter Alice develops an eerie attachment to a stuffed bear named Chauncey she finds in the basement.  Alice's games with Chauncey become increasingly sinister, and Jessica intervenes only to realize Chauncey is much more than the stuffed toy bear she believed him to be.

Skeletons in the Closet - Haunted by a malevolent spirit since childhood, a desperate mother allows herself to become possessed in order to save the life of her terminally ill daughter.

Lisa Frankenstein - love story about a misunderstood teenager and her high school crush, who happens to be a handsome corpse. After a set of playfully horrific circumstances bring him back to life, the two embark on a murderous journey to find love, happiness… and a few missing body parts along the way.

Winnie The Pooh: Blood & Honey 2 - oh yay? I guess a sequel

Adrift - It is described as a supernatural ghost story set aboard a ship. It is an adaptation of a short story by Koji Suzuki

Dustbunny - It follows a young girl who asks her neighbor to help her kill a monster under her bed after she thinks it has eaten her family.

Faces of Death -  follows a woman who discovers violent videos that recreate death scenes from movies online. 

Heretic -  two religious women who become the focus of a strange man's games. 

History of Evil - In the near future, war and corruption have plagued America and turned it into a theocratic police state. Against the oppression, ordinary citizens have formed a group called The Resistance. One such member, Alegre Dyer, breaks out of political prison and reunites with her husband Ron and daughter Daria. On the run from the militia, the family takes shelter in a remote safe house. But their journey is far from over, as the house’s dark past begins to eat away at Ron, and his earnest desire to keep his family safe is overtaken by something much more sinister.

MaXXXine - Six years after the ‘Texas Pornhouse Massacre’, Maxine is now LA-based and on a driven quest to become a star in the acting world. But things take a sinister turn when bodies once again begin to fall around her.

Dracula - A futuristic sci-fi western version of Dracula.

Apartment 7A - Prequel to the 1968 film Rosemary’s Baby.

Baghead - follows a young woman who inherits a run-down pub and discovers a dark secret within its basement. Enter Baghead - a shape-shifting creature that will let you speak to lost loved ones, but not without consequence. 

Out of Darkness - In the Old Stone Age, a disparate gang of early humans band together in search of a new land. But when they suspect a malevolent, mystical, being is hunting them down, the clan are forced to confront a danger they never envisaged.

Stopmotion - stop-motion animator by the name of Ella whose latest project might just be driving her to the brink of madness.

Late Night with the Devil - 1970s talk show host Jack Delroy on his last legs, wrung out by personal tragedy and in need of a ratings win. His plan to feature as a guest a young girl who is allegedly possessed seems like a Halloween night layup… until the cameras roll and all hell literally breaks loose.

You'll Never Find Me - An isolated man living at the back of a desolate caravan park is visited by a desperate young woman seeking shelter from a violent storm. As the savage storm worsens, these solitary souls begin to feel threatened – but who should really be afraid?

The First Omen - When a young American woman is sent to Rome to begin a life of service to the church, she encounters a darkness that causes her to question her own faith and uncovers a terrifying conspiracy that hopes to bring about the birth of evil incarnate. (this might be a prequel to the omen)

Abigail - After a group of would-be criminals kidnap the 12-year-old ballerina daughter of a powerful underworld figure, all they have to do to collect a $50 million ransom is watch the girl overnight. In an isolated mansion, the captors start to dwindle, one by one, and they discover, to their mounting horror, that they’re locked inside with no normal little girl. 

Return to Silent Hill - James, a man broken after being separated from his one true love. When a mysterious letter calls him back to Silent Hill in search of her, he finds a once-recognizable town transformed by an unknown evil. As James descends deeper into the darkness, he encounters terrifying figures both familiar and new and begins to question his own sanity as he struggles to make sense of reality and hold on long enough to save his lost love.

Infested -  invasion of venomous spiders, forcing residents of a suburban building to find a way out.

Tarot - Tarot follows a group of friends who recklessly violate the sacred rule of Tarot readings – never use someone else’s deck. In the wake of broken rules, consequences follow, this time in the form of unleashing an unspeakable evil trapped within the cursed cards. 

The Strangers Chapter 1 - a couple, have to survive the night while being terrorized by masked strangers in a remote Airbnb in Oregon

The Watchers - the film follows a young woman who becomes trapped with three strangers in a shelter deep within a forest in Ireland where the group must fight off mysterious creatures every night in order to survive. 

Never Let Go - a family who has been tormented by an evil spirit for years as their lives become more dangerous when one of the kids questions if the evil is real. 

The One - Follows character Taylor as she becomes a contestant on a reality TV dating show to find love. Taylor's experience takes a turn as she gets down to the final three and becomes terrified of not finding love (with a horror twist)

Thread: An Insidious Tale - new actors who play a husband and wife who use a spell to travel back in time to prevent their daughter's death, which has worse consequences than imagined

Weapons - The movie is about the disappearance of high school students in a small town, similar to the movie Magonlia's from 1999

A Quiet Place: Day One - New characters in New York

Alien: Romulus - takes place between the first & second movies

Beetlejuice 2 - not much is known about the plot details, but Beetlejuice will have a wife & Lydia's daughter will be in it

Speak No Evil: this is the English remake (all it really says; but it's just the 2022 movie but English?)

Smile 2 - it's a sequel but no details have been revealed

Terrifer 3 - not too many details revealed but it will take place on Christmas Eve

Wolfman - not too many details revealed but it's a new take on the werewolf tale

I Saw The TV Glow - Teenager Owen is just trying to make it through life in the suburbs when his classmate introduces him to a mysterious late-night TV show — a vision of a supernatural world beneath their own. In the pale glow of the television, Owen’s view of reality begins to crack.

Don't Move - A seasoned killer injects a grieving woman with a paralytic agent and she must run, fight and hide before her body completely shuts down.

Arcadian - Nicolas Cage comes back to save the day - and his children - from ferocious creatures at their remote farmhouse.

All My Friends Are Dead - College friends? Remote Airbnb? A secret murderer? What could go wrong in this classic toxic friend group killing spree? Looking forward to attending the biggest music fest of the year, this group of friends get together for what should be a killer weekend.

Monolith - It is about a disgraced journalist who investigates a conspiracy theory while trying to salvage her career.

some movies coming out maybe not this year but have been floating around: The Toxic Avenger (I think remake), Witchboard (remake), Year 2 (about werewolves), Shelby Oaks (A woman's desperate search for her long-lost sister falls into obsession upon realizing that the imaginary demon from their childhood may have been real), Salem's Lot (remake), Little Bites ('70s-set monster movie that highlights the lengths a parent will go to protect a child), The Crow (Reboot), Jordan Peele's untitled movie, I've also seen there's going to be another Saw (but it hasn't been confirmed), and another Scream (but that production is already a trainwreck so who knows)

#horror #horror movies #horror cinema #dracula #the crow #terrifier 3 #saw #scream #alien #beetlejuice 2 #smile 2

[spooklies]

# Fairytale - Yan!Mark Grayson x F!Reader

♡ ... › “Life itself is a most wonderful Fairytale.” - In which she comes to terms with a reality that doesn’t feel real.

── Words - 1.1K

♡ ... › Warning(s) - Graphic depictions of harm. Domestic abuse. Minor character death. Brief mentions of a panic attack.

── A/N - This is based off that version of Mark where he’s evil. No spoilers for that though! Think of this as an au of an au.

She figured the last of her friends were now dead as she watched their hideout burn from outside on the street, her knees bloodied from the concrete she slid on and her shoulder dislocated from the compact. Her friends didn’t scream – they were never given the opportunity to before he rigged the place to blow. 

Opening her trembling fingers revealed a picture of herself from childhood. She stared into her younger counterpart's eyes, already knowing the way they viewed the world differed due to recent events. She lived in an apocalypse while her younger self lived every day as if it were a fairytale and she was the princess the story centered on. Except now there weren’t sparkly dresses or even flashier tiaras. Just death. Every street she walked on was a reminder of the kind of world she lived in with a dead body occupying every other mile. For a while, she was able to tell herself that despite all of this chaos, she still had people to keep her afloat and from drowning in all that grief. 

But because of her, they’re gone now – dead from an explosion caused by her carelessness. They had warned her about going out and the risk she posed on their whole operation being found if she did. But Y/n had insisted she grabbed at least one piece of memorabilia before they hunkered down for an indefinite amount of time. If only she had listened. It wasn’t worth it, they were right. And she’d tell them as much if they were still around to listen. 

She could only hope their deaths were quick and painless. But knowing Mark he would somehow find a way to draw out their ends in the worst way possible if only to prove a point to her. She found it hard to believe that a man she once loved was capable of such cruelty. It was as if a switch had been flipped the moment he and his father had that argument. The Mark she’d fallen in love with had become more rash, not at all caring about the consequences of his actions even if it meant those actions put her in harm's way. His new viewpoint on life was pessimistic whereas it was once optimistic. His trust in her had diminished into nothing and he’d become strict, not letting her do as she pleased if she didn’t have his permission to. He had explained that he’d made more enemies and that going out was dangerous since they most likely knew how much she meant to him. 

After many arguments, she was forced to come to terms that the man she’d fallen in love with was gone. This new sinister version of her boyfriend contrasted too greatly with the sweet and selfless version she’d been in love with. All of the love that once warmed her chest lost its warmth and turned cold. Staring into Mark’s eyes no longer filled her with butterflies and instead made dread coil deep within her gut. Danger. Mark was dangerous, sure, she’d always known what he was capable of once he’d revealed his identity as Invincible. But she never once suspected that he’d use that power for bad – never once believed he’d use that power to make her life as well as others a living hell.

So she ran and never looked back. It had been a good six months since they last saw each other and she knew he’d find her eventually with all of the influence he now holds. She had just hoped he wouldn’t have gone this far and that the Mark she loved was still in there with all of that humanity that made him who he was.

Mark’s yellow uniformed feet landed in her peripherals, an eager skip to his step as he approached her and crouched down, his hand gently placed on top of her head. If she shut her eyes she could delude herself into thinking she wasn’t trapped in a nightmare and instead back to the time when everything was good in her life. When she was treated like a princess from a fairytale by the man who acted as her doting prince.

“Y/n…” He whispered lowly, his actions now mirroring that of an owner disowning their pet when his grip tightened on her hair. She winced, and Mark paid no mind to it. “Look where running got you.” She didn’t respond and Mark took that as his cue to continue speaking. “Aw, don’t be like that. Your friends were lucky to have survived this long, those who are part of the resistance die in worse ways than they did.” At the mention of your friends his tone turned ominous, a clear distaste apparent. 

She tilted her head up so she was looking at Mark, mirth absent in a place where it was once believed to be forever stagnant. He showed no authentic sympathy for everything he’s done, though that should have been something she expected.

“You’re bleeding all over. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up. I know someone who–” 

She smacked his hand away and backed up as much as she could before her ankle was grabbed in a vice-like grip, Mark’s strength keeping her from moving any further.

“Y/n, you’re not going to make this any more difficult than you already have, are you?” He asked in that same sing-song voice, an obvious threat hidden underneath the tone that did not go unnoticed. She opened and closed her mouth, begging for her mind to get out of her thoughts but ultimately coming up empty. Mark made a noise of disapproval and grabbed onto her leg with both hands. “You’re lucky this is all I’ve done so far, I could have done so much worse by now.”

The crack her leg made when Mark split it in two was booming and was heard over the blood pumping in her ears and soon after she was screaming out in agony. Mark had his hand back over her hair, stroking it in downward motions as he hushed her as if she were throwing a childish tantrum.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” He said softly. “Now imagine this pain but worse then you’ll know exactly how I’ve felt all this time without you.” If she was frantic before then she was beyond that now. She shook her head back and forth, letting out incoherent words between sobs. Mark watched on with disinterested eyes and then grabbed onto her other leg. Y/n tried to wring her leg out from his grasp before he inevitably broke that one too. But her attempts were all futile. She had passed out from the pain not too soon after her legs were both broken and when she came back into consciousness she was being carried by Mark through the air. The burning sensation that encompassed her thighs down was now a dull throb in the back of her mind as she cried silently in Mark’s arms. The picture that had cost her friends their lives nowhere to be found.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere mark Grayson #yandere invincible #yandere mark grayson x reader #yandere invincible x reader

[silentmoths]

Some HSR Thirsts

Because I've been fucking star-railed this last week and also I promised @dustofthedailylife that I would write a svarog thirst if she finally pulled welt. so since this exists, you can guess what happened!

Svarog/Yaoshi/Kafka x Reader

NSFW, nothing explicit perse but all very heavily implied, Robot/monsterfucking, does fucking a god cound as monsterfucking?, Svarog is a giant vibrator, Yaoshi and their many hands, also Yaoshi having an aphrodesiac venom in their scorpion tail, maybe a little implied dubcon in kafkas case? I dont...think it is but its there as a warning in case.

Ok but Svarog, who definitely knows what sex is, of course he does, he has an entire database to access, and lets face it, this man has probably already accessed it when looking up ‘how to parent’ information because at one point or another he’s going to have to give clara ‘the talk’

(no, we wont talk about how his version of the talk is going to be the most embarrassingly clinical talk ever to exist. rest in peace clara.)

But he does not, for the love of anything, understand why you want to have sex…with him.

Nonetheless, he does not stop your hands roaming his chest plates, he doesn’t really stop you from doing… anything really, because… whatever this is  makes you happy, and that’s all he wants. 

He’s confused when you ask him to touch you, but he does it anyway, all while sifting through his databanks to figure out both why and where. 

This is also the day you discover that Svarog has an… interesting vibration function in his hands that he claims was once for easing stiff muscles of his old human commanders before he was abandoned.

Yeah it’ll sure ease you alright.

Admittedly…he does like watching you squirm…it does… something to his servos.

Though, he thinks he may have created a monster, because now every day, without fail…you’re asking him for a hand. 

Perhaps one day, when he has done enough research…he might just reveal that one…extra modification that had been made to him before everything went to shit.

One day he will allow you to delve below his trousers and maybe one day he will use that…modification, to finally give you what you want, since it seems you’re unwilling to find another mortal to fornicate with.

Besides

perhaps …clara could do with a mother figure around.

----------

Some say the Aeon Yaoshi, of the Abundance, is a cruel and evil creature.

This does not stop you from seeking Their favour.

However when they finally do appear before you, you get so much more.

Six hands, long and delicate, trailing your skin as they pull you close, unearthly voice whispering in your ear, telling you they’ve heard every prayer, every plead and call for them; how they’ve been watching you all this time, and now they have come to bestow the blessing you’ve been seeking.

But only if you can endure one last trial.

In some depictions you had found, Yaoshi is endowed with a scorpion's tail, so it isn’t a shock when the appendage curls around your body, the tip pricking into your thigh. You feel the warmth of the poison spread through your body and you moan for it. Yaoshi only hums their praise 

Their venom makes you feel warm and fuzzy, it makes their touch intense and vivid, most of all…

it makes you want to give yourself over entirely

You feel hands touch places that have never been touched by another, you feel their teeth and their tongue. You hear their praises.

And then you wake, in your bed. 

At first, you think it was a dream, but then you sit up.

You were naked, your muscles ached, but it was a sweet ache, soft around the edges, and there on your thigh, where they had stung you with their venom…

the symbol of abundance

----------

Soft hands, and an even softer voice, leave you weak in the knees.

“Ready to talk yet?” Kafka muses quietly as she presses a single finger to your collarbone, and you immediately fall back against the table, your arms still bound behind your back. 

You should be struggling. You should be fighting back.

But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t incredibly turned on by the stellaron hunter who had kidnapped you, and was now apparently intent on interrogating you.

“You’ll….have to try harder than that.” you rasp, trying to sound intimidating. 

By the way Kafka’s smile widens ever so slightly, it’s failed completely, and you’re once again left reeling as she approaches, leaning over you like a cat who’s just caught their mouse.

“Will I?” her voice is so soft, and yet so very dangerous as her ruby eyes narrow in on your face “My…are we a little smitten? Your face is all red.” 

Goddamn it.

“I’d never-”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic.” She interjects as she perches on the edge of the table beside where you lay, she shoots you a look…an expression you can’t quite discern for a moment, until you realise her own eyes are raking down your body.

hungrily.

You watch her bring her hand to her mouth, teeth closing around the finger of her glove before pulling the offending article off; your heart is jackrabbiting in your chest.

“I think…” she hums as she leans back over you, magenta hair falling between you both like a waterfall. This was dangerous, so very dangerous.

But the moment her hand presses against your belly, and slowly begins its slow gaze downward, pressing shamelessly beneath the waistband of your bottoms? You’re a goner.

“I think I have other ways to make you sing that we’ll both enjoy…don't you think?”

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

I will be starting a Starrail specific taglist shortly so if you want in on that let me know!

#silentmothwrites #Moth got star railed #Svarog Star rail #Yaoshi Star rail #Kafka Star rail #Svarog x reader #Yaoshi x reader #Kafka x reader #Svarog smut #yaoshi smut #kafka smut

[tyrantisterror]

My Personal History with My Good Friend, Satan

My first encounter with The Devil - that I can remember, at least - came when I was about three or so. My mom liked to borrow VHS tapes from libraries to show me and my siblings a lot, and one of the libraries she used was the one at our church. It was a small and obviously very religion-centric collection, but it left a notable mark on me - like, that's where I saw this weird, kinda shitty cartoon version of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe which might be responsible for irreconcilably fucking up my taste in women? I just have this distinct memory of watching the scene where Edmund is tempted by the White Witch and thinking, "Yeah, he's making the right call." If anything I was frustrated that he hesitated - three year old me was already simping for this woman. Just imagine a child channeling Ernie Hudson in Ghostbusters and growling, "When a terrifying and beautiful woman offers you candy and a private sleigh ride, you say YES!" and that's basically me as a kid.

Where was I? Right, Satan. So, the other video from that library I remember was this cartoon retelling of Bible stories, and really I just remember the Adam and Eve part. The temptation scene had this huge, super gnarly-looking demonic red snake in it, and he was so cool and badass and I was already predisposed to like snakes anyway, so of course he was my instant favorite. But, like almost all media featuring reptiles that captured my little child heart, he turned out to be the bad guy - literally The Devil, in this case - and was punished at the end of the story. And that pissed me off.

Sometime shortly thereafter - or at least that's how I remember it, this was over thirty years ago so things might be smushed closer together than they really were by the fog of ages - some of the kids in my preschool chastised me for liking snakes. "Don't you know the devil is a snake? Snakes are evil!" I remembered the movie, and it made me angry.

Because snakes aren't evil, and as a kid I knew that because my parents taught me it. Snakes were just animals, they don't know right from wrong, and to call them evil it to judge them for what they are, not what they do. That experience taught me a very important lesson: The Devil is a tool to make people hate the innocent. And as I'd later learn, snakes were far from the only innocents people would vilify because of a demonic association.

The second time I met the devil came a few years later, when I was six or seven or so. My Grampa and Grams liked to take us up North to Mackinac City and the Upper Peninsula each summer, and I have a lot of fond memories of those trips, but there was one in particular that's relevant to this discussion. We saw a sign for a "laser light show" in the shopping district, and I got to stay up late to see it with my family. The show in question was basically a cartoon projected into the night sky adapting the song The Devil Went Down to Georgia. It was super primitive and hokey and cornball and terrible and I loved every second of it. I was enchanted, absolutely delighted with the spectacle and the silly song where the devil was less a force of evil and more a comically bumbling inept supervillain - one of my favorite archetypes, even back then. So that's the second lesson about the devil I learned: The Devil can be fun sometimes.

Now, Godzilla, one of the few reptile characters I encountered as a kid who didn't end up a villain (at least not in the first movie of his I saw, Godzilla vs. Megalon), had already set me on the path to loving monsters of all stripes and, by extension, horror fiction in general, so as I grew up I had many more encounters with the devil. But while I warmed up quickly to most monster archetypes, like vampires, zombies, werewolves, etc., I always felt dismissive of demons. It kind of coincided with me becoming disillusioned with Christianity as a whole, in fact. A story about fighting evil, Christian-style demons is ultimately an allegory for fighting evil as defined by Christianity, and Christianity's definition of what evil is, well, sucks. It's bad! They got some things right, but some things horribly wrong. The devil is the tool Christianity uses to make you hate the innocent, and I struggled to enjoy a lot of demon stories because of that. Still do with some, in fact.

There were exceptions, of course - I loved The Evil Dead series as soon as I saw it at too-early-of-an-age, but then, the demons in it aren't super Christian. They aren't repelled by holy water or crucifixes or prayer, and in fact God and Jesus barely get mentioned in the series and never come up as a potential solution. They're kind of secular as demons go, and maybe that made them easier to stomach. But overall, demons ranked pretty low in the hierarchy of monsters to me - they were too tainted by the religion that spawned them for me to enjoy.

Until college, anyway. I quietly renounced my faith during my Freshmen year, and then, as if seeking one last chance at redemption in my eyes, the devil came to me again the following year. That's when I had a class on Medieval literature, and was exposed to far older devil stories than I had ever seen before. And Medieval devils kick ass. They have so much more personality and variety than I had come to expect, and some are downright affable, even sympathetic to a degree. It was one of many moments in college when I realized there was much more to a topic I'd previously written off as boring and trite.

This is when I read Dante's The Divine Comedy and Milton's Paradise Lost and Marlowe's Faust and Ben Johnson's The Devil Is An Ass. It's when I read early Gothic Horror novels like Matthew Gregory Lewis's The Monk, and dived into The Twilight Zone, which has more than a few episodes that are updates of medieval-style devil folktales in a more modern (i.e. 1960's) setting. And so many of these works presented the Devil not as a stand-in for everything Christianity hates, but as a person - a deeply flawed person, yes, but a person with actual wants and feelings and thoughts of his own, a person who was interesting and compelling - and sometimes funny, and sometimes charming, and sometimes really sad. There was, dare I say... sympathy for the devil growing in my heart.

In the last year of my undergraduate studies, I attended my college's yearly Medieval Studies Congress, where people from all over the world came to Kalamazoo just to share their research papers on medieval history and literature. One girl's thesis paper was on the subject of "rueful devils," i.e. depictions of demons in literature where they wanted to repent their sins and redeem themselves, which uniformly ended with the devils' hopes being dashed as they could not fully repent. This idea... possessed me. The idea that the devil could repent, or at least try to - that there could be hope even in the most debauched sinner. It was such a good narrative trope in my eyes - why did it die out centuries ago?

Well, because the church didn't like it, you see. If the devil can repent - if the Absolute King of Evil can choose to become a good person - then he's not very useful as a tool to make people hate the innocent anymore. The devil MUST be "pure evil" to work as intended. A rueful devil, a repentant devil, a devil that can be redeemed, forces us to be more forgiving and kind. It forces us to be better. It prevents us from hating people because an old book says so. And some people just couldn't have that, and so the trope died.

...

After I got my bachelor's degree, I entered the job market and, after applying to fifty different places or so, was finally hired as a high school english teacher about two weeks before the school year started. Said school year was the worst year of my life. Like, I've had extreme self loathing issues and suicidal ideation since, like, sixth grade, but holy shit it was NEVER as bad as it was in that nine month stretch between 2012 and 2013. There was this bridge I had to cross on the way to work each morning, and about two months in the job was so stressful that part of my morning routine was thinking, "You know, if I just swerve to the right, this can all be over and I'll never have to worry again." About halfway in I began drastically losing weight despite not changing my diet or getting more exercise and it was so traumatic that to this day whenever my weight starts to drop my initial reaction is dread rather than excitement. I impulse bought the first two Kung-Fu Panda movies and, after watching each for the first time and crying hideously, proceeded to watch them on repeat for an entire weekend while sobbing myself hoarse for reasons I couldn't comprehend at the time.

I was in Hell. And the devil met me there.

I started writing a story during that year. I didn't get very far, just a couple chapters, but it was one of the few things that gave me a sense of accomplishment. Despite all the stress and sadness and misery, I made something. It was a story about demons, and Hell, and trying to make your life better even when the world around you seems deadset on making you suffer as much as possible.

When my bosses called me into their office at the end of that year and told me that I had to quit my job so the assistant principal could take my teaching position and survive the downsizing they'd get next year, and that if I didn't quit they'd give me the lowest teacher evaluation they could and make it supremely difficult for me to get hired elsewhere... I was relieved. I'd been let out of Hell. After a handful of months left to finish out the year, I was free.

And then I went home, with nothing. No job, no desire to pursue the career for which I'd spent five years and an ungodly amount of money getting a degree to pursue, no nest egg, nothing. Nothing except a few chapters of a book.

The years that followed were hard. I did a lot of temp work, it took me a very long time to find something that worked for me. I may have left the worst year of my life, but there was still a lot of misery waiting for me. And through it all, I felt the need to accomplish... something, ANYTHING. I had to make something to prove I had a reason to exist, even if it was something that only had value to me.

With three years of work, those chapters became my first novel, No Sympathies: A Tale of Those Who Trespass Against Us. It was about the devil, and Hell, and finding salvation even when things seem inescapably bleak. It was my first novel, and now, eight years later, it's the first of five.

The devil saved my life. He saw me at my lowest, lifted me up, whispered, "It'll be ok. You have to keep going. I'll be with you, but you have to keep going," and goddammit, he kept me from swerving right.

That's when I learned the greatest truth about the devil, at least to me. The devil is a tool to make people hate the innocent, yes, this is true, but because of that, the devil can be a savior for the broken, the beaten, and the damned. You can feel like you're worthless, wretched, and doomed. But if the devil can rise from Hell, if the devil can choose to change, if people are willing to pray for the one sinner who needs it most - then there's hope for you too, isn't there?

Demons are creatures of rebellion - against God, against nature, against the powers that be, against doom and damnation itself. They were made to be a tool to hurt the innocent, but that's not what they have to be. Devils can lift us up, because no matter how far you fall, no one can say whether it's the end for you except you.

...I would like to point out that I am being figurative here. The devil does not literally exist, at least not in my view of things. He's a fictional character, nothing more. But he's a prolific fictional character, and how we portray him can say so much about us. And, to me, he is a dear friend, despite being imaginary, because the devil was there for me when I was low, and it was on his wings that I rose from doom.

...again, figuratively, not literally.

[little-pondhead]

Fenton Family on Vacation (part 1)

Original Post⬅️

"You know, when you revealed yourself as Phantom, I thought it would be much harder to adjust." Madeline Fenton, ghost-hunting extraordinaire and mother of two, stared at the swirling green portal in her basement. Despite building the darn thing herself, with its glowing wires and simple design, Maddie felt like she was seeing the whole thing for the first time.

It was late afternoon on a Saturday. At least, Maddie assumed so. She hadn't stepped foot outside their lab for a while now. Too busy modifying all their ghost-hunting equipment. The blinking red numbers of the digital clock on their desk said it was almost six in the evening. Then again, it has been six in the evening for the past several months. The clock was very much broken, and no one had bothered to fix it. 

It was summer, so the time spent in the Fenton lab drastically increased. And with the reveal of their son Danny, Maddie practically breathed ectoplasm with the amount of time she was spending in the basement. Danny said it was no big deal, but both Fenton parents were determined to re-evaluate their research and inventions completely. Basically, starting from scratch. 

So imagine her surprise when, two days ago, both Jazz and Danny sat them down to propose a memorable family vacation. 

And for some reason, she couldn't say no. Was it her guilt? They were prepared to shell out the money for any dream destination the kids proposed. But no, Danny had invited them to a different dimension via the Ghost Zone. This was tremendous progress, not just in her relationship with her kids but also for their new research. (Let's not mention the headache she got from learning parallel dimensions exist.)

Apparently, the kids had been planning this for a while because now everyone was packed and armed to the teeth, two days later. Jazz had taken care of the logistics-when to leave, how to get there, what to bring. Danny was the one to choose the location since he was the most familiar with the Ghost Zone. Maddie learned much later that he had just thrown a dart at a lineup of names on a corkboard.  

"Are you sure it's okay for us to enter?" Maddie looked concerned.

"Yeah! It'll be fun, mom!" Danny reassured. "It's just a week off-I've always wanted to show you the cool parts of the Ghost Zone without the immediate threat of horrible death." Maddie gave her son the stink eye. He was grinning a bit too innocently for her liking.

"Well, I think it'll be a great bonding experience!" Jack announced, winking at Danny. Badly. "Someone was being a little paranoid about the mall trip yesterday; I hardly got a chance to spoil our new little princess."

Ah, yes, their new granddaughter. Danielle. Maddie had been furious to discover how horrible Vlad had been to her family. Attempting to murder her husband, trying to recruit Danny as a weird evil son/apprentice, outright disrespecting and dismissing Jazz's existence, and wanting to marry her?? "Furious" was putting it lightly. The man slept with a doll version of herself, for heaven's sake! And then Danny just offendedly mentions that Vlad had cloned him. Several times. Only one clone survived; a little girl with no identity of her own. And here was her son sheepishly asking if they might consider letting the clone stay? Even for a little? She was traveling around right now but didn't really have a place to call home-

Maddie and Jack immediately offered to adopt the girl into the family as their youngest. 

(Jazz giggled. "Danny already beat you to it. They tried being cousins at first, but he acts like a total dad around her—the fastest case of ghost adoption that I've ever seen. Instead of a new child, Elle's more like a new grandchild.")

Danny blushed, hunching his shoulders in. "I don't know if Elle wants to be a grandkid-we haven't talked about it, really."

"YOU CAN BET YOUR SWEET BISCUITS I WANNA BE A GRANDKID."

The trio startled and turned, watching the last two of the Fenton family work their way down the stairs into the lab. Jazz was gripping her backpack in one hand and Elle's arm in the other, using her superhuman strength to keep Elle in line. Probably so Elle wouldn't run down the stairs and permanently kill herself. Jack quietly chuckled at the sight of Elle's ghost-themed backpack, so painstakingly picked out the day before. It was a tad too big and looked just adorable on her. A few tiny blob ghosts floating around her head whizzed in excitement, sometimes using the backpack as a place to hide. Maddie, personally, loved the pink light-up sneakers that Elle showed off as much as possible. Her husband had done well shopping by himself. 

It was evident Elle was excited about the trip. Despite all her travels abroad, satisfying her wanderlust, she'd never been to another dimension. When they had reached the bottom, Elle phased out of Jazz's grip, bolting to collide with Jack in a hug. "Yesterday was loads of fun." She exclaimed. "I loved shopping around for new stuff. And if being Danny's kid means I get two new grandparents in the deal, then I'm taking it."

Danny made a face. "But isn't it weird to have a dad so close in age to you? What if people look at you weird?"

Jazz snorted at her brother's words, picking her way around the lab mess. "Danny, you'd be the one they would look at funny. A fifteen-year-old-"

"I'm almost sixteen!"

"A fifteen-year-old who has a physically thirteen-year-old daughter? People will be ready to call CPS."

"And besides!" Elle detangled herself from Jack's grip and stomped over to Maddie with a shit-eating grin as she looked at her dad. "Technically, I'm only a year old. You're not going to leave your poor, unstable clone daughter alone in the world to fend for herself, right?" Danny just grumbled. Something about not even being old enough to drive. 

Maddie cooed a bit and enjoyed the hug from her new granddaughter. It was cold but in a good way. Elle's response was a low hum that vibrated through her body. It reminded Maddie of a cat's purr.

"I've been meaning to ask," Maddie said. Elle clung tighter as she adjusted her grip. "What is ghost adoption?? You mentioned that before when explaining your relationship with Elle."

Their son shuffled his feet a little. "Uh, it basically means my core has connected to hers in a parental way, I guess." He was obviously nervous. "When we first met, even before I knew Elle was a clone, my core recognized her as a "baby ghost," so to speak. There was enough of a connection that I kind of adopted her subconsciously."

"But it doesn't happen with between all ghosts." Jazz cut in. It felt like their eldest was giving them a lecture on this and that every week. "Frostbite explained it a while ago, something about similar cores and ambient ectoplasm. Kind of like pack bonding?"

Maddie nodded, barely following. "And Frostbite...you said we were visiting this person?"

Danny perked up, actually floating a few feet off the ground in excitement. "Frostbite is the best! He's the leader of the Far Frozen and looks like a giant yeti. He helped me figure a bunch of things out and makes the best cocoa."

"Well, I'm excited to meet him."

And they were. Going through the portal was an experience and a half. It wasn't the first time they'd done this, but it was still memorable. Danny and Elle had gone ghost and chased each other around the Specter Speeder while Jazz piloted, hunched over the steering wheel. The Ghost Zone was a wonderful mix of greens and purples; Jack lamented his lack of a camera.

("We don't want to give Technus something to use." Tucker explained. Danny's friends had come by to help them all pack properly. "The Fenton Cameras haven't been ghost-proofed all the way, and Technus is an insufferable b-uh, idiot when he manages to get his hands on new tech. I'll never hear the end of it.")

It was just so much colder than they expected. The "Far Frozen" certainly lived up to its name. So did Frostbite and his legendary cocoa. The giant yeti (did he count as a ghost??) also took the opportunity to give each Fenton a checkup (ghosts have doctors???) to make sure everyone was healthy enough for inter-dimensional travel. They were, and Frostbite even handed over a few extra vials of pure ectoplasm to tide the kids over in case they didn't land near a natural source in the new dimension. Jack and Maddie took a few vials each, one for each of their ghost kids, and Jazz just tucked hers away in her luggage with a little pat.

Then they were off sightseeing. Understandably, most of Danny's allies were a bit wary around the (mostly former) ghost hunters but did their best to hide it. Jack and Maddie got to meet Princess Dorathea, who could turn into a freaking dragon how cool was that, Jack-

There was Pandora, a towering woman with blue skin and four arms. She took a liking to Maddie and gifted her an engraved xiphos. "To match her fighting spirit." The woman explained. She did not tell anyone what the engraving meant. At some point, they saw a towering castle in the distance. It was hard to see, but the towers looked like spiraling ice. Jack asked about it.

"Oh, that's nothing special." Danny waved them off. "Don't worry about it. We DO need to worry about Walker's prison, so duck down for a bit. He doesn't like it when the living are in his territory." Maddie didn't bother pushing the subject, so they moved on.

Then there was Wulf, a werewolf who could make portals and was the kids' teacher on that subject. Jazz was especially excited, greeting Wulf with a bear hug. (Maddie vaguely remembered something about her daughter being a werewolf now, but she very rarely changed while in the living world. Maddie had almost forgotten.) Jack was pleasantly surprised to learn Wulf spoke Esperanto. In fact, that was the only thing he could speak. It turns out Esperanto was something Jack had learned during their college days. The two hit it off, and Jack had to be dragged away from whatever conversation they were having.

Time moved a bit sluggishly, but eventually, they got around to "the least annoying ones." Elle had a blast messing with someone named Fright Knight, who just kept calling her 'my lady' for some reason. Danny got a few potshots in when one of his rouges (was that a robot?) got too close to the Speeder. They met Ghost Writer, Amorpho, Lunch Lady, Nocturne, Technus, Ember, Cujo, and a few others. Their final stop was Clockwork's.

The flight there was exceptionally long. It felt like forever, yet the clock in the Speeder only moved forward five minutes. Jazz explained that this was Clockwork's influence. He was the Master of Time, and the closer they got to his lair, the weirder time was. Eventually, the Fenton family arrived. Clockwork's lair was, well, a clock tower.

("Really, I don't know what we expected, Maddie.")

It was dark and green, sitting on a tiny island they could barely land on. Ectoplasm was thick in the air; Maddie was sure that if she weren't already ecto-contaminated, it would have been increasingly difficult to breathe. Multiple ticking sounds filled the air as if the tower was filled with nothing but clocks. Maddie took a wild guess and thought it probably was. A glowing green sticky note drew their attention as they approached the door.

Danny scowled as he read the note. "Daniel, something has come up with the Observants. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't make the Watchtower your new haunt. A natural portal will open next to the Speeder. Enjoy your vacation, Clockwork. Drat, I was hoping he'd be home. I really wanted you to meet him."

Maddie pats his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm sure we'll find time later." Elle giggled at the pun.

"I know." He sighed. "It's just, he can be so cryptic. Why would I make a watchtower my new haunt? I've never even been to a real watchtower! But the note says a natural portal will spawn next to the Speeder so that we can wait for that."

"You mean this portal?"

Jazz was closely examining a small tear in reality that had popped into existence next to her foot. It was small and low to the ground. Small enough that the Specter Speeder definitely couldn't get through. Maddie doubted they'd be going in all at once.

Elle peered over her shoulder. "That's it! Come on, old man, I'll race you!" She dove in without waiting for a reply.

"DANIELLE MADELINE FENTON!" Danny immediately chased after, disappearing into a swirl of green.

"Oh yeah, she's definitely related." Jazz said. "Come on. I'll follow behind once you two go through." Maddie looked at Jack, and Jack looked at Maddie. Fine with them.

Jack went first, knuckles tight from gripping his bag straps, doing his best to suck in his gut before dropping out of existence. Maddie went next, standing on tiptoes and still having Jazz bend down to press a kiss to her cheek before she left. "Make sure to lock up the Speeder."

Jazz smiled, her eyes glowing with the barest hint of green. She had a hand on the Fenton thermos clipped to her belt and if Maddie squinted, she could see the barest outline of a crown on her head. "See you on the other side, mom."

Maddie stepped into the portal, feeling nothing but open air, and fell through.

---

Edit: OH GOD I FORGOT THE MOST IMPORTANT DETAIL ABOUT JAZZ I FIXED IT I AM SO SORRY

(the fix was kind of rushed but there is an extra line or two now that actually mentions it)

#danny phantom #jazz fenton #dp x dc #danny fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #dani fenton #i got lazy towards the end #seriously #there will be #tall jazz #tall jazz reigns supreme #bamf jazz #i just really like jazz #i think she’s neat #ffov #fenton family on vacation #werewolf!jazz #wulf is like a weird cousin #he teaches her how to be a werewolf

[carouselunique]

Remember when Cozy Glow was just never given an explanation for her villainous nature and was throw in Tartarus and then frozen in stone? I have decided to steal her for myself and give her a backstory and a plot!

She’s the reverse Sunset Shimmer a young human runaway who found the mirror portal and then decided to make all these magical ponies into her new toys to play with, unwilling to see them as anything other than her pawns. Sort of a twisted evil version of the concept of a child playing with toys. Instead of being frozen in stone, only her forearm is frozen because the magic hit Tirek and Chrysalis first and she managed to find a portal before she froze fully, but the spell is living in her stone hand and if she ever returns she will be frozen. So she needs to find more magic in the Equestria Girls realm (her old home) to fix her hand, free her old allies and take revenge on the Mane Six.

So this is just my artistic interpretation of that concept! ♟

#my art #my little pony #mlp #eqg #equestria girls #Cozy Glow

[alexawynters]

Scarlet Whispers pt 6

Gif not mine

A/N: I edited this while stoned. Probably not my best idea. Also this feels so filler. Should I upload chapter 7 as well??

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Masterlist with parts 1-5 here

Chapter Six

The next morning, you found yourself unusually attached to Wanda, refusing to let her out of your sight. You had always disliked the idea of being clingy with the few friends you had, but with your mind in disarray from the events of the previous night, she was the only bastion of comfort you knew. Playing your games only reminded you of your suspicions, and the fact that you could only watch hard copies of anything had the same effect. Instead, you longed for the witch to hold you, alleviating your treacherous thoughts. Unfortunately, you couldn't express this to her without giving away what you had discovered, so instead you clung to her side whenever possible.

Not that Wanda minded, of course. If anything, she was wondering why she hadn't thought to arrange a little home invasion or something to draw you into her arms sooner. But better late than never, right? The witch cooed and fawned over you in her native Sokovian every time you pulled her back to you when she started to get up or go to her garden. Part of you wanted to ask her for a translation - she always called you some nickname or another - but you never had any idea. Another part just savored the way her language rolled off her tongue. You began to consider that you didn't need to know exactly; you could grasp the gist of it well enough.

Wanda, on her part, began sharing more of her work with you. She didn't reveal everything, of course, but she would show you snippets, especially since you were so intent on being by her side. She wanted to make you more familiar with what she was doing. The witch would demonstrate how she observed the multiverse using one-way portals she would conjure, to ensure your protection from external dangers. Naturally, Wanda made sure to only show you versions of the Avengers who would actually be a threat to you, who were truly evil in their universe. She hoped this would sway you further to her side, seeing the atrocities they would commit, the powers they wielded.

For sure this made you fearful of the Avengers. However, you never forgot what Wanda initially told you about her origins, her experiences with her versions of the Avengers, and your own involvement. The current situation didn't align with what Wanda had previously shared, sowing doubt to further creep into your heart and mind. These individuals were supposed to be heroes, just like Wanda once was. So why were they now posing a threat to you specifically?

That's what you couldn't understand. All Wanda seemed to care about was keeping you by her side, keeping you safe. But why would the "Earth's Mightiest Heroes" have any interest in you? You weren't a villain. Incapable of harming even a fly, you had never harmed anyone in your life, despite times when you should have defended yourself. So if they didn't want you, then who did they want?

Your gaze turned from the portal Wanda was observing to the witch herself. Could they want Wanda? You had witnessed what she had done in Westview, but she had done the right thing in the end. Surely that counted for something, not just in terms of morality but also with these so-called-heroes. Wanda wasn’t a villain.. Was she?

As you looked at her focused figure, you reflected on all the ways she had supported you. Openly confessing to journeying through multiple universes just to locate you; she rescued you from an abusive family, shielded you from the monotonous 9-to-5 existence, and brought you to your new home. Throughout your time together, Wanda had consistently shown nothing but care and affection, fulfilling your every desire. If Wanda was considered a "villain," did that moniker truly matter to you?

Captivating green eyes, flecked with bits of gold, sparkled with intensity as they met yours. In that moment, you made a firm decision: you didn't care if she was a villain. Perhaps you wished she had been more honest about her intentions and actions, but as far as you knew, she hadn't done anything truly villainous. If her "crime" was saving you, she shouldn't be punished for it.

"What is it, lyubov moya?" she asked, amused, having caught you in the middle of your intense gaze. Wanda wasn't sure exactly what you were thinking without reading your mind, but the way you looked at her, as if you had appraised her and found her to be the perfect answer to all you were seeking, made her feel weightless. Warmth bloomed in her chest as she gazed fondly at you.

Caught in your staring, you blushed and shook your head in denial, trying to hide any thoughts you may have had. Instead of responding, you leaned your head on her shoulder and wrapped your arms around her closest arm, indicating to her to continue her work.

Wanda smiled at you briefly before returning to her task. She didn't want to spend too much time observing the multiverse, as she had already set up multiple wards and alerts in case anything significant happened. It seemed that you wanted to cuddle, and she saw no reason to decline. Finished with her goal, arm in arm, Wanda led you to the living room and turned on the TV to watch the Dick Van Dyke show, knowing you enjoyed it almost as much as she did, despite its age. Contentedly, you nestled into her embrace, inhaling the faint scent of vanilla, and settled in comfortably.

Although you had decided to accept Wanda for who she was, you couldn't completely shake the persistent doubts in your mind. Those doubts crept into your dreams, turning them into nightmares.

Unlike most of your dreams, and even nightmares, these were fragmented. They appeared as flashes, resembling memories almost. In some of these fragments, a woman dressed in black and red was chasing after a man in a cape, and a teenage girl, as they hurried through what seemed like a monastery. The same woman in red effortlessly utilized puddles and mirrors to traverse through the monastery, pulling people back through. Although her face remained unseen, the outfit seemed familiar; a feeling of dread and unease overwhelming you whenever you came close to catching a glimpse. 

Unable to do anything, you were a helpless bystander to what was surely a slaughter. You hoped that this woman was just letting these people go, simply getting them out of the way. In your heart somehow you knew that was likely not the case. Suddenly, you had a close-up view from directly behind the woman, as she pulled another unsuspecting victim through a puddle, swiftly snapping his neck.

You woke up to the sound of screaming, and it wasn't until Wanda held you in her arms, turned you to face her, shushing you gently, that you realized the scream was yours.

It took Wanda longer than usual, but eventually she was able to calm you down and get you to go back to sleep next to her. However, you were uncharacteristically stiff and silent, a stark contrast to the affectionate person you had been earlier. Wanda was tempted to read your mind, but she had been making a conscious effort to refrain from doing so. She wanted the connection between you both to be genuine, and invading your privacy by reading your thoughts would not contribute to that. If it were anyone else, she wouldn't hesitate, but you were the one person whose privacy she respected and didn't want to intrude upon if there was any other way.

Night terrors were common for you, which was expected given your level of trauma, and how often you had them in Wanda’s presence. This one felt different to her. You had never recoiled from her touch before, even in the beginning when she first brought you to Wundagore. Wanda's touch had always been a source of comfort, capable of dispelling your fears. So why were you suddenly so tense in her embrace, as if you wished to be anywhere else?

Her heart clenched with fear and hurt that you weren’t comfortable sharing what had upset you. However, she knew that pressuring you would only make you shut down. Instead, the witch took a deep breath through her nose promising herself to be patient. It was incredibly vexing that she always seemed to make one step forward with you, and then two steps back. Wanda believed that you would eventually come to her, if given enough time. She hoped at least.  If Wanda couldn't trust you, then who could she trust? She couldn't bear to entertain that train of thought. 

Gentle rays of sunlight streamed through the curtains into your shared bedroom, rousing you from your restless sleep. The bed felt cold, and the delightful aroma of pancakes filled the air, wafting in from the kitchen down the hall. You concluded that Wanda must be preparing breakfast. Yawning, you got out of bed and padded your way towards the witch and the enticing aromas that made your stomach growl.

An adorable sight greeted you, causing your heart to flutter pleasantly in your chest. Wanda, clad in her favorite blue plaid robe, black pajama top, and dark grey sweatpants, dancing around the kitchen as she cooked for you both, listening to some 90’s pop. What a dork, you thought, affectionately. 

As if sensing your presence, the witch spun around. “Good morning, detka! Breakfast will be ready in just a sec!”

Your lips quirked upwards in a grin. How could this woman be so perfect, you wondered?

“No rush. Is there anything I can help with?”

Viridescent eyes twinkled with appreciation. Her girl always had such good manners, so sweet, so helpful. “No, dorogoya, I have it covered. Sweet of you to offer though.” Wanda walked around with your pancakes and set them on a plate in front of you, before placing a quick, but gentle kiss to the top of your head.

On contact, your body froze. A furtive glance cast in the witch’s direction but Wanda had already turned her back to you, completely unaware. You didn't understand what had just happened, but when the former avenger had entered your personal space, you felt an unexpected and almost overwhelming urge to run. Even now you were actively resisting it, trying to stay seated. It would look weird if you suddenly fled from the room, and you weren’t sure how to explain to Wanda when she inevitably would ask you why.

 Taking a few moments to breathe through your nose, you swallowed nervously and willed yourself to remain in place. What the fuck? What was wrong with you? This was Wanda, not some stranger out to get you. Gods, how traumatized were you anyway?

Before the witch could notice your discomfort, you quickly devour the breakfast she had prepared for you. With a disarming grin, you tried to regain a sense of normalcy by complimenting the chef. Wanda responded with a brilliant smile and plated her own breakfast before sitting down in the chair next to you. A soft, cool hand gently brushed across your lower back as she passed by.

This time, you shivered pleasantly, grateful that your body had recognized the familiarity that was Wanda, and she posed no threat to you. The anxiety that had been coursing through your veins just moments before began to fade. In an attempt to regain that sense of safety that the witch typically provided, you moved your chair closer to Wanda, earning yourself an affectionate look from the older woman.

Your behavior was a significant departure from the stiff and silent demeanor you had the night before, and Wanda was relieved that you weren't still pushing her away. If you had continued to distance yourself, she had resolved to read your mind without your permission to understand what was troubling you. Understanding that you had trust issues, and some uncertainty was to be anticipated, but Wanda was growing weary of every bit of progress being quickly overshadowed by your own lack of confidence. The witch contemplated how to better help you grow more than she already had been.

Conversation between the two of you flowed easily once again. Wanda had promised herself to be patient with you, although personally she knew patience wasn't her strong suit. For you though, she would try. A breakthrough in your relationship felt imminent. Maybe all you needed was a gentle nudge. Perhaps time for Wanda to stop allowing you to doubt her intentions and take a more direct approach with you. As ideas began forming in her mind, she had to muster her facial expression so as not to inadvertently reveal her plans for you, and how excited she was to surprise you.

A/N 2: ehhh... how are we feeling about where this is going? Again, edited when stoned so sorry if its... rambly.. Rambles? Words are hard.

Again thanks as always to @flowers-shouldnt-die as well as my friend Brooke for beta-ing these for me. You guys are so helpful and the best cheerleaders and I appreciate y'all.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

#Wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda x reader #yandere!Wanda #yandere wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader

[galactic-cumslut]

bleed magic

this was originally titled heavy metal heart but anyways here’s some evil!rick bc i love men who are totally irredeemable,, i hope it’s not obvious i didn’t know where i was going with this..bc i didn’t

rick is a mean dom, slave/master dynamics, afab reader, lots of degrading, cockwarming, exhibitionism , he just wants to show off his power be frl

you liked to think you had an ounce of pride in your body. it was just a thought though. in reality you had none left. he made sure of that.

“c-c-come to me pet. on your knees immediately”. he had said,long legs spread on his throne. his eyes bore into you daring you to refuse him.

instantly you fell to your knees, awaiting your next command.

“what an obedient slut, look at me a stick out your tongue”.

you wanted to resist. anyone could walk in at any time and see you in such a vulnerable state-being used by your lord. the teasing would surely kill you if the sheer embarrassment didn’t first.

a sharp smack to your face threw you back into reality. you hesitated. one thing rick doesn’t stand for is hesitation, once he gives an order he expects it fulfilled immediately.

“are you de-deaf or something, bitch? or do i need to s-spell every little thing out for you, jesus christ you’re stupid. tongue out. eyes on me”.

fear overcame you and you did as you were told. you expected him to insert his fingers inside your mouth but instead he leaned down and spit directly onto your tongue.

“swallow”. he commanded.

as shocked as you were you quickly swallowed. if wanting to be hit again.

rick seemed pleased with you eating up the fear in your eyes.

“there we gooo, all it takes is a little discipline with you huh”? he stroked your cheek gently and you willing lean into his touch. “you just want to be a good little slave for your master hmm”?

rick was almost never gentle with you so of course you were quick to answer. eager to receive more praise. “yes sir”.

“of course you do my darling little cum slut. on your feet at once”.

he offered you his hand as to help you up from the uncomfortable position between his legs.

“i’m going to explain what’s going to happen and you’re going to listen closely”.

you nodded, almost eager to hear what he had up your sleeve.

“the council is coming for a visit very soon and since you’re my most obedient servant you’re going to be shown off. it’ll asset dominance as well as keep attention on me”.

again you nodded, unsure of what he meant by his words. usually he didn’t allow the council anywhere near his lair. ‘what could have changed’ you thought.

“you have one job y/n. you’re going to sit still and stay quiet. your only duty is to look pretty”.

———————-

“welcome council of ricks. i trust you have all been briefed about the reason you are here”. rick bellowed , addressing the six other versions of him sitting in his court.

you in the other hand were in another world of bliss, sitting atop his cock infront of so many men.

less than an hour ago you were worried about someone walking in on you and your master. oh how things have changed. the many eyes locked onto your body-it gave you a feeling of power.

the feeling of his cock twitching inside you was enough to have you drooling. you did your best to sit up straight and smile.you didn’t want to disappoint your master after all.

as if he could read your mind he bucked his hips up slightly causing you to gasp in a mix of surprise and pleasure. “be a good girl infront of the other ricks and you’ll get a biiiig reward”. he whispered in your ear, nipping at your lobe.

“shall we conduct business”?

the group became silence and focused their eyes on rick…or they tried to as you stole their attention away from whatever brining speech rick had planned up.

“i understand that you’re all infatuated with my newest plaything” he started, a crazed grin spread king across his face. “give me what i ask and she is all yours”. fuck his speech, you were a much better bargaining chip.

#uh ohhh #my kinks are showing #i’m a crazed maniac #when it comes to rick at least #i hunger for his attention #like i’m out of my mind over him #i’ve lost it #it’s official #my tags are going to get worse from here #so enjoy normal tags #THIS TIME #WAHAHAHA #that’s my evil laugh #rick sanchez smut #rick sanchez x reader #evil rick #evil rick smut #evil rick x reader #rick and morty #smutty blurb #smutty drabble #esha writes

[artbyblastweave]

There are a lot of ways in which Bonesaw seems to be in conversation with Harley Quinn. They’re both blonde, perky minions with an exaggerated affect and an affinity for black comedy, the girl-fridays to their respective society-dwelling chaotic-evil middle-aged masterminds. Both of them have sympathetic backstories in which they were brought to their current sorry state through deft and continual emotional abuse and/or torture. Both of them are painted as arguably more competent and creative than their respective bosses, and both of them ultimately receive redemptive arcs in which they rediscover their sense of personal agency and get out from under the thumb of their abuser. And neither of them has a valid license to practice medicine.

One thing I don’t see brought up a lot, though, is that Harley Quinn as she’s currently written and marketed is already subverting and deconstructing a character archetype- namely, that of Harley Quinn. She was originally introduced as a relatively flat and uncomplicated minion of The Joker, for a gendered sight gag they didn’t even go through with in the final cut of the episode. She verged on being a stock character. I’ve always parsed Mad Love, the comic/episode that fleshed out her backstory, as the writers subsequently sitting down and seriously considering the whole moll archetype; asking themselves how someone ends up the sidekick of someone like The Joker, and how dysfunctional that relationship would be behind closed doors. Harley Quinn is already thoroughly subverting Harley Quinn, to the extent that it’s now possible to go your whole life without consuming any Batman media that contains the original dynamic being subverted.

So what Bonesaw is doing is that she takes that subversion and cranks it up a notch. Bonesaw is a version of Harley Quinn who, in my opinion, is vastly more sympathetic than Harley herself, but she also (very reasonably!) gets handed much less of a pass by the narrative despite this.

Harley was a grown woman with a doctorate. Bonesaw was Six. Harley breached professional ethics by becoming involved with her patient. Bonesaw was Six. Harley (I think @zoobus brought this up recently and got me thinking about this) was, as the Joker’s doctor, and thus at least initially was the more powerful party in regards to the power imbalance. Bonesaw was six. 

But! Despite the fact that Bonesaw was six, and was dealt an unabashedly terrible hand, the redemption arc is significantly more uphill because she, you know, she did torture and murder scores and scores of people in the most horrifying ways possible! And at a certain point issues of culpability have to take a back-seat to questions like “Are we physically capable of stopping her if she changes her mind and starts doing this again?” Pound-for-Pound I’m pretty sure she’s much worse in terms of raw bodycount than Harley Quinn, regardless of how much choice they each had in the matter. No real way to elide that. No marketing-based impetus for the author to do so.

Her redemption arc doesn’t happen because people within the setting idealistically recognize her as an abused child who’s deserving of a second chance on principle; instead they get her in their custody, they need something from her, and extend her the courtesy of not killing her because that’s the only way to get what they need. They never trust her; they never will trust her, (I personally don’t feel like they’re under any obligation to ever trust her) and her readmission to society is so knifes-edge conditional that from her perspective it was only barely worth it to return to the fold. She is not happier for her decision. There’s no just-so story about how doing good makes everyone forgive you and become your friend, or at least become cautiously indifferent to you. This is, like, the most cynical, harsh and bitter redemption arc possible. And in spite of all this, there’s also a level on which Bonesaw is lucky, because her “redemption arc” is so mechanistic; so dependent on timing and circumstance, on people needing something from her instead of just killing her, on being young enough that “she never had a chance to be anything else” is an argument that lands with people despite being also reasonably true for a lot of adult supervillains who got fucked over as early and as hard as she did. 

This has been sitting in my drafts long enough that I don’t have a good sense of what the final takeaway should be, so I’ll just end with this- Bonesaw’s situation, as melancholy and cynical as it makes me feel, is definitely in line with one of the big recurring beats of the book- that regardless of questions of what one deserves, you get away with a lot if you have something to offer and if you play ball. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Taylor’s visit to Sophia in prison comes right on the tail of the Bonesaw sequence; Shadow Stalker could have gotten better, if anyone had cared enough to put in the legwork, and probably could have done so with much less work than Bonesaw. But nobody entertained that idea, because at a certain point she stopped being worth it. And Taylor, who probably did do a lot more harm to a lot more people just because she was running free for longer, gets a seat at the table because she made herself useful, and a charitable assessment from the fandom because we live in her head. And after a sufficiently long bout of fruitless plate-spinning and sin-weighing, kindness and mercy and the extension of second chances inevitably come out in the wash, as a knot-cutting measure if nothing else.

#bonesaw #worm #wildbow #parahumans #thoughts #worm thoughts #worm web serial #meta

[acowardinmordor]

Ignore what I did to ages timelines and canon to make this ficlet work. This is for @eddiezpaghetti and is, I promise, an actual event from my high school life. Mine was the football captain and star quarterback though. 😇

Deep Breath

Eddie was not an athletic guy. It didn’t matter that his fine motor skills were excellent with a pen or his guitar, the big picture version with hand eye coordination and ability to do anything even closely connected to sports was crap. So he never did sports for longer than a few days when he was young enough his mom was still around and encouraging him.

Any accidental skills he learned while wearing a uniform evaporated in the decade since his mom died. Then he met kids who didn’t make fun of him about sports, realized he could have friends without the ‘friendly’ sportsmanship, and Eddie didn’t look back.

Nerd for life. Sports for never.

Then Eddie was turning 11, and his dad had a chance for a ‘great job’ in Colorado. First in Pueblo. Then just north of the border into Wyoming. And then, in a little town halfway up the side of the mountains near Cañon City, while his dad went to Florence most days. Al usually managed to be home a couple nights each week during those years, Eddie found a book called a Player’s Manual and some friends, and that was that.

So, when the mysterious job his dad had been working all that time went bad, and a major news story about an attempted breakout at Florence ADX, when cops showed up to arrest Al, Eddie ran into the trees, up the trail and kept hiding for a day or two.

He wasn’t an athlete, but he knew how to sprint, he knew how to hide, and life with Pops made damn sure Eddie knew how to keep quiet. He was seventeen, and knew some states would try him as an adult for all the shit he’d helped Al do.

Eventually they sent a park ranger with a dog instead of a cop. A few days later, his Uncle Wayne greeted him with a massive hug in Hawkins, Indiana.

The next day, he was enrolled at Hawkins High, as a junior in limbo. Colorado did classes in trimesters, Indiana did them in quarters, and through some kind of Evil Machinations, he had eight registered classes, only two of which were needed to advance to senior year.

The other six?

Theater. Jazz Band. Study Hall. Study Hall. PE. Another Study Hall.

And.

Advanced PE.

He argued that he shouldn’t have to take non-required courses. They informed him about Indiana Laws on Truancy. He argued he’d rather take five Study Halls. They cited policy. He begged to take chemistry and biology instead. They refused.

Thus was the cruel hand of the Universe, demanding he participate in not just one stupid sports ball class — where, at least, there were other nerds to hide with— but a second, where student athletes were put so they had an easy A, and extra time to workout or stretch or whatever.

He skipped the first one and immediately learned about those truancy laws.

The next week, defeated and miserable, but still running late, he donned the grey tone garb, and stepped into Advanced PE.

Which was the exact moment he noticed the first flaw in his previous assumption.

A class full of sporty kids meant a class full of people who ranged from hot to gorgeous to ‘as long as she isn’t speaking’ all bent in amazing shapes as they stretched and warmed up. Including a guy with hair from a commercial and lips that would be borderline illegal in the Bible Belt.

Eddie was definitely going to die of lack of blood in his brain at some point in the next nine sessions of this class.

At least he remained the antithesis of sporty. The polar opposite of whatever Farrah Fawcett had going on. He could lurk and not participate, ogle until his poor bisexual heart broke, and still be good to go into Senior year.

Except. A few more things leading up to the one that really mattered.

The coach was a little annoyed that his star athletes were putting in the minimum effort.

The other kids were shooting him dirty looks.

The coach was pretty good at sussing out the best leverage on teens.

And.

Unlike Eddie, coach knew the natural effect of living at high elevations for six years.

—

And see, it cannot be overstated that Eddie was not a sports-guy. But he did need to run (away) sometimes. Hearing that they were running six laps, at your own pace, was excellent. Then the sweetener: once you were done, you could cool down and be done for the day.

He wasn’t going to sprint, but a quick jog followed by half an hour napping on the bleachers? Yes please.

Whistle blown, clock started, and off they went.

It really, truly, cannot be overstated how much Eddie was not trying to be a little shit or that he wasn’t trying to go fast.

To be fair to Farrah up at the front, none of them were going fast. Eddie didn’t have practice after class like they did, and he badly wanted that napping time.

By the end of the first lap, Eddie and Farrah had pulled away from the others a ways, by the end of the second, Eddie had pulled ahead. And he kept pulling ahead. And ahead. Rolled his eyes as he caught and then lapped the rest of the class. They had some choice words for him as he went by.

Put some extra distance so he wouldn’t have to hear it. Got far enough by lap four he had a good view of Farrah’s ass, and was mentally writing a description for pathetic, but attractive court buffoons to use once he found a dnd group.

The coach was annoyed though, and knew exactly where to push.

“Harrington if the new kid laps you, I’m benching you for the rest of the year and I’ll make Jason Captain in the fall!” Came blaring through a bullhorn.

Farrah Harrington full on stumbled at that, head whipped sideways to stare. Gape? Slow down running as what sounded like a peak-jock-threat was leveled at him.

And Eddie wasn’t trying to be a lot shit at the start of this, but he damn well was now.

Eddie found out later the science stuff, but in the moment he decided it was either magic, or because he was used to dodging things as he ran up poorly maintained hiking trails in the Rockies. Cause now that he was trying?

No damn clue why he wasn’t dry heaving as he collapsed on the track to die.

No clue why he was closing the distance as they went into the last straight of the fifth lap, despite Harrington visibly realizing the coach was serious.

The magic theory was dismissed when Eddie didn’t easily lap the guy. They were around the first turn when Eddie got close enough that Harrington could turn to see him. Farrah was red faced and a little wobbly. Sure, Eddie was sweaty as fuck — it was way too hot for April, there should still be snow! — but he could do it. A little more effort, just enough to close another five feet, and he’d do it. Just about half a lap left. More than enough time. Eddie could be an absolute dick and lap Harrington, then get damn close to catching the rest of the class a second time.

The mere concept of their agony almost had him going for it. Who was he if he didn’t take a moment to gloat though?

He pulled level, tilting his head with a smile the drama teacher called “impressively deranged” planning to stay there until the turn, then actually sprint for the first time without cops behind him.

But Harrington turned to him, out of breath, red faced, plush lipped, with great hair, an ass worthy of songwriting, and gave Eddie the most desperately adorable puppy eyes god or man had ever crafted.

Eddie didn’t freeze, but the guy was hot, and maybe, maybe, he didn’t want to make him sad.

So he wasn’t a dick.

But he was a little shit, and he kept pace the rest of the way round. With his body half turned and awkward. With his dimples going crazy. With every person in the class well aware that it was an act of mercy by the new kid.

He even dropped back at the last second with a wink, letting Farrah cross the line ahead of him.

—

That was how Eddie became both beloved and beloathed by every sports kid on his third day in school. That was how he became the threat the coach used to intimidate the others. That was how the first rumor about witchcraft started.

That was not the day Eddie found out what coach had known.

No, he learned that the next fall, after running from monsters with Steve Harrington to keep a group of nerdy kids safe, overworking himself, vomiting on Steve’s shoes, and then bemoaning his lost magic in front of Dustin Henderson.

Who explained in detail how oxygen acclimatization worked.

—

If you didn’t know: when you live at high elevations, you get used to having less oxygen, so when you are suddenly at lower elevation, your body goes Woah! Free Oxygen! And you can do what Eddie did. It’s not permanent. A month or two if you don’t try to keep it, and it tapers off, but that’s more than enough time for Eddie to be a complete menace to the jocks. I know I was.

And obviously Steve thought this event was sexy, but he’s still with Nancy, and the boy is loyal. Eddie hates himself for not working to keep up his lung capacity the first time he and Steve hook up.

#my writing #eddie munson ficlet #steddie implied flirting? #not sure how to define that #didn’t reread or edit #write this in the tub #because work is insane

[ltwilliammowett]

The Squando Ghostship

The Squando a Norwegian merchant ship docked herself 1890 off Embarcadero in San Francisco. A short time later a headless corpse was found floating in the bay and after investigation it was determined that this was the 1st Mate of the Squando who had been decapitated and disposed of by the Captain and his wife. They had hidden the head in a box under the bunk of the couple as a precaution. How had it come to this ? There are two versions, the first says that the wife of Captain Nels Erikson, the 1st Mate Lars Gunderson made beautiful eyes and they committed an affair. Her husband found out and forced her to assist him in the murder. To do this, she lulled her lover with liqueur and held his hands together behind his back as her husband rushed in and cut off the drunken man's head with an axe.

The other version was that he called the lover into his cabin and cut off his head with a saber in front of his horrified wife. In other versions, the wife does not have an affair with the 1st mate at all, but the 1st mate is stalking the captain's wife and was beheaded by the captain. However the couple was captured and sentenced to death. But the story doesn't end here, the Squando were equipped by her owners with a new crew and the tragedy took its course.

After only a month, 4 crew members mutinied and killed their captain. The next two captains also died unnaturally. One died from poisoning by a cut in the hand and the other from a violent squall at night, another version reports that both died violently in the cabin under mysterious circumstances.

In 1893, the entire crew, fed up with the ship's curse, left the ship in Bathurst, New Brunswick. The ship's reputation as a haunted and cursed ship made it impossible for the owners to hire a new crew. The Norwegian consul finally stepped in and hired two night watchmen to guard the ship until it was decided what to do with the cursed vessel. The night watchmen left the ship on the first night and fled in fear after encountering a headless apparition running around in the corridor outside the captain's cabin.

This is what happened to the next six night watchmen, who were all hired and quit again in the next few weeks. Unable to hire workers for the ship, the owners were forced to tear it down. Another legend has it that the Squando wanted to make one last transatlantic voyage in 1901, but completely disappeared on her journey and never arrived at her final destination - on the contrary, she is said to be still looking for a new crew today. So you could call her a spiritship rather than a ghost ship.

But how do you come to that? considering that spiritships are quite rare, if you believe the superstition. Well, the Squando is said to have been involved in a curse. Several workers were killed during the construction of the ship, and one of the widows cursed the ship and all who were to sail on it, and then committed suicide to make the curse effective. Another version says that the widow desperately turned to the ship for help after the owner refused to help her after the death of her husband. The ship itself is said to have offered to carry out her revenge if the widow spilled her blood on it. No sooner said than done, the widow sacrificed herself and the revenge took its course, as already detailed above.

All in all, an evil ship which, when it goes hunting in the fog off the coast to look for a crew, soon kills them and then looks for a new one. My dear friends, I warn you to stay away from an older Norwegian ship that calls you as a crew member in the fog, she does not mean well with you.

#naval history #ghostship #spiritship #norway #squando #late 19th century #age of steam #something spooky today #history

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[kirythestitchwitch]

Klaroline WIP Wed - Waffle House AU - Kol Drinks Coffee (questionable)

Part One here Part Two here Part Three here Part Four here Part Five here

“Order your own,” she glared.  

“How can I when—”

“Oh sorry, Caroline!” Short June scooted up next to the table, pulling her pad and a pen from her apron. “Didn’t see you had company, and Marcy’s in the back.” She shook her short black bob out of her face and smiled at Kol. “What can I get you?”

Kol leaned one arm on the table and propped his head up on his hand. “Hello darling. What can you get me?” His smile was all charm.

Caroline kicked him under the table.

“Oh.” His smile bounced off June like a rubber ball. She pointed at the menus stacked behind the condiments at the end of the table by the window. “Menus are right there, I can come back after you’ve had a chance to look them over. Do you know what you want to drink?”

Caroline was having this horrible moment of kinship with Caroline Bingley in Pride and Prejudice—the 2005 version, her favorite—when she asked if they are soon to be beset by every Bennet in the countryside: was every Mikaelson in the area going to show up and personally annoy her?

“Oh, he’s not stay—” she started.

“Coffee would be excellent.” Kol’s smile followed June as she left, and then he turned back to Caroline. “That hurt, you know,” he pouted.

She ignored that. “So fine, you’re alive. Congrats! What are you doing here?” Déjà vu.

“Well for starters, I’m—oh marvelous, darling,” he said, as June stopped by with another mug, a dish of creamers, filled his cup up, and left.

“For starters,” he continued, “I’m having coffee in what the internet informs me is a staple of Southern Americana.”

“You googled Waffle House?” Caroline asked, momentarily distracted by that detail.

Kol began opening creamers and dumping them into his coffee until it was an astonishingly light color. “I google everything. It’s the only way to catch up after being in a box for—” he lifted a hand, silently counted a few fingers, “—ninety-six years.” Pulling six sugars out of the sweetener caddy, he ripped them open and dumped the lot in. Stirring his concoction with a spoon, he said, “I love YouTube. Learned how to drive from that.”

Caroline winced as he took a sip from his cup. Good thing vampires couldn’t get cavities. “Okay so your no doubt stellar driving aside, what are you doing here, bothering me? We’ve literally never said two words to each other.”

He smirked at her over the rim of his mug. “Is Rebekah the only one who’s allowed to visit now? My, that will twist Nik’s knickers.” He snickered at the alliteration.

She leaned back in the booth and crossed her arms. “Your evil sister—”

“She’s my only sister, the evil part is implied.” Picking up the menu, he perused his choices.

“—wasn’t visiting, she was interrupting my late night study session. The way you’re doing.” She glanced pointedly at her notebooks.

“Didn’t look much like studying.” Kol smiled now, with teeth. “Looked like hunting.”

#klaroline wip wed #klaroline #klaroline for ts #tvd for ts #kololine bffs is my jam okay #i just want them to harass each other forever #waffle house au

[loquaciousquark]

So I stayed up ungodly late last night playing through the Cazador quest/conclusion (?) of the Astarion romance and I have a lot of thoughts!

Overall, I LOVED it. Absolutely loved it. I love how much he has to say about the mansion, I love the design and weirdly oppressive layout of the space, the sinister door, the annoying button/attic puzzle, his relationship with Go...dey? The bone man! When I saw that room was called the kennel I literally said "oh no" out loud.

The one thing I'm mad at myself about is that I didn't understand how to actually get into the stupid palace to start the quest! I couldn't get up that dirt incline right next to the map marker so I thought I had to get into the upper city via Baldur's Gate on the left--that the palace was in the next area altogether--so I've been dithering about with murderers and Lae'zel getting kidnapped (D:! she's safe now though) and hag children and a million other things WHEN I COULD HAVE BEEN KILLING CAZADOR THIS WHOLE TIME. Harrumph.

Anyway, once I actually made it into the darned palace, I didn't have any trouble at all with the fights until I got to Cazador himself. I did think the ritual skull on the pillow was a nice touch, and I loved the confrontation with Sebastian in the cell, just in case the PC has any doubt left about how sane/human these spawn still are. Seven thousand souls! That's so many!! Seven is a lot, but seven thousand, yikes! There was also one room with some levers at the end of the tedious attic puzzle that appeared to have no purpose; I guess it was unfinished from the design stage, as dozens of Reddit threads/forum posts all agree there's no clear puzzle solution or interactable element. Really, the first design misstep I've seen from the game, and even that was pretty minor!

Then came the confrontation with Cazador, and for all I didn't even get touched in the werewolf fight earlier this fight WRECKED me. I didn't understand the mechanic and got everyone sacrificed for the ritual the first time (was focusing on the adds first), and then the second time I checked the journal and it said "Help Astarion" and so I wasted two turns getting to him only to discover they meant "help Astarion by killing Cazador," not "free Astarion with the Help action" because that sure didn't work, so he got sacrificed again! Then the third time I focused Cazador better until he Called Lightning on Shadowheart and Karlach and killed them both, and then I finally scraped it out on the fourth try. A really, really tough fight! If I didn't have the six summoned ghouls from the Thay book I don't know if I could have done it with this party.

The choices available afterwards are FASCINATING. I played through them all again, and I loved that in every version he absolutely butchers that vamp with as much violent stabbing as I've seen in a video game. And that little flip of the knife to the reverse grip! So deft! He's a rogue! It's like there's thought and care behind these animations!! Incredible! The choices where you don't help him are absolutely awful--the enraged venom in "I'd say good luck out there, but honestly, I hope you die screaming"--and the flat "Your companion has permanently left the party" made my stomach clench. The version where you help him ascend is also horrifying; are there many other quests where both companions are like, "this is a HORRIBLE IDEA, don't do this!!"? And afterwards Karlach said something about "all those souls..." and she looked like she was about to cry, which was the second worst thing in the world aside from the time I had to break up with her because I didn't realize we were dating. Everything is red and evil and we get nice close-up views of the spawn in agony and bursting and then Astarion's eyes glow red as sin forever. I did really like the explicit confirmation that the infected can use the parasites to see out of each other's eyes; that's given me a couple fic ideas already!

I will say the scene of him crying & screaming was unspeakably cathartic and I was yelling at the screen to let me hug him. YELLING. Thank God I live alone! Again, the tenor differences between this scene in the "insight/persuade him to be better than Cazador" track vs. the "flatly deny to help him" track were shocking. I can't believe how different the exact same animation set felt between the two versions! Unbearable relief & grief vs. total impotent despair--no wonder he tries to kill you in a few of the bad endings (on top of deciding on his own to snap the staff & trap the spawn forever).

Regardless, once the ritual was disrupted and the spawn were saved and freed and Cazador was a lolling pincushion, I couldn't figure out how to trigger the follow-up scene I KNEW had to be there, even though I'd already done Shadowheart's personal quest & should have known I needed to long-rest, lmao. I wandered around like a dope for several minutes before finally triggering it.

I really, really liked this romance scene a lot. I liked that there isn't even an option to break up at this point; just like ME3, the romance is locked in and you can just play around inside that structure, which I thought was fantastic! I am sad that it opened with what I expected, which is him resigning himself to eventually being trapped in the darkness & never seeing sunlight again, and the fact that the game let you pick "maybe we'll figure something out with the tadpoles" only for Astarion to express doubt does make me worried for long-term outcomes. My favorite options once you get to the graveyard were to just stay back and let him talk, but I'm honestly really delighted that we got this scene of pretty significant emotional closure for him, and I loved the animation of him carving the year into the headstone. It seemed so immersive & real that even though we can't read the text, we know exactly what he did.

The only incredibly, incredibly, INCREDIBLY minor things I didn't adore about this scene are that first, when he tells you he loves you, his head animation is weirdly still/frozen the whole time on that set of lines despite his expression changing, and it honestly broke my immersion a little bit. The ambient movements of the characters have been so realistic for so many dozens of hours that to have this seriously critical and important moment for the character be almost rigid, especially against a completely silent music-less background, made it stick out as an "oh yeah, this is a video game" reminder. Bummer!

The other thing is that it's icky to have sex in a graveyard, lmao. Tavish doesn't really care because it's just dirt under them--he's literally standing in front of her, so as far as she's concerned it's not that different from the forest--but I did grimace a little. Someone give these dingdongs a bed! or at least a roof!

Anyway! A fantastic romance and super strong writing/consistent characterization throughout, and I'm pumped to see where it's going to go next. I'm still so curious about how the tadpole outcomes will affect things and faintly hoping for a deus ex machina to keep him in the sun, though I suppose that's what fic's for. Regardless, full sign-off on an utterly satisfying romance; so many little things dropped throughout were EXACTLY what I wanted--you can even accuse him of sincerity in the graveyard scene, which is precisely the arc I was hoping he'd have! He didn't even like you in the beginning and now we're smooching next to a bunch of dead people. What isn't romantic about that?

10/10 Larian, thanks for making me a mess for another white-haired grump.

#astarion #quark plays bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #lots of thoughts under the cut #tavish gale

[heyclickadee]

Okay, here’s the slightly evil, kind of sad, but mostly happy in a somewhat melancholy way (basically just a lot of feelings here) thought I had about Tech and Phee having kids, if that should ever happen:

So, operating under the assumption that Tech comes back, let’s say he and Phee do get together. And let’s say they stay together, and end up more or less space married. Let’s say they both want kids, and, after a lot of discussion about the war going on in the background and how they’re going to raise them and keep them safe, they end up going ahead with it. They don’t really settle down in any one place, but they’ve got their own ship with plenty of room, Pabu (maybe) is a good, stable home base to go back to when needed, and they’ve got a huge family for support. Those kids, if they have more than one, are loved. They have tons of uncles, somebody is always around, maybe some of the other batchers have partners (or not) and also have kids or adopt kids (heck, let’s throw Riyo in there, too, since she and Echo are a popular ship—they end up together but they don’t want kids, but they do a lot of work helping younger clones when they’re not fighting the Empire, Hunter took in several of the clone cadets they rescued from Tantiss, Wrecker is the favorite uncle but Crosshair is the favorite babysitter, they all manage to visit Cut and Suu once in a while, and and both Omega and Lyana are delighted to have little cousins running around (I kind of headcanon that Shep and Lyana kind of adopted Phee into their family after she found Pabu, so even if we’re going with a version of Phee that was formerly a Jedi and and doesn’t really know who her birth parents were, her kids are going to have family on both sides).

And this all exists just as a headcanon for something that could maybe happen after season three, depending on how season three goes, buuuut I like it. It’s just this nice little thought of this big, chaotic family, way bigger than just our six batchers, that’s structured a little weirdly, because clones, and everyone has their problems. but they’re all doing their best for each other and there’s a lot of love in it. And then I started thinking about clone aging.

And we all know clone aging sucks, but: let’s say clones really do age at twice the normal rate once they reach maturity, and let’s say Tech is chronologically, like, twelve but physically in his late twenties. A hard late twenties where he could pass for anything between thirty and fifty, but late twenties all the same. Suppose he gets the best case scenario and manages to live till he’s physically 90. Chronologically, he’ll be around forty-five. So, close to best case scenario, barring dying violently or getting sick, he’s got maybe another thirty-three years in him. That might seem like a lot (and it probably is to a clone), but to put that in perspective, I’m thirty-five. If I die in thirty-three years, I’ll only be sixty-eight—I’ll have died pretty young. And I’ve already been alive almost three times as long as many of the clones have. The clones do not get that much time.

There’s a lot to be explored with that in regards to Phee; I’ll be honest, the potential, “This is going to be over faster than either of us are going to be ready for,” “It is—let’s do it anyway,” is part of why at draws me to the ship, because there’s something a little defiant about two people going into a relationship knowing one of them was built to die faster, and choosing to live their lives how they want despite that. But there’s also a lot to be explored in how Phee and Tech would handle that with their kids. Because—they’d tell them. They’d have to sit down and tell them once they got to a certain age. Tech is going to be lucky to see them hit their twenties. It’s not like they wouldn’t notice their dad and their clone uncles getting old so much faster than their mom, Omega, or their uncle Shep, or anyone else they know. They’d ask questions, and it’s not like Tech wouldn’t be up-front. But I don’t think it’d be an easy conversation for any of them to have.

#the bad batch #techphee #tech bad batch #phee genoa #things I made myself have feelings about #while staring at my computer and not working yesterday #anyway add this to the ever growing list of things I want to draw #very rambly tired thoughts do not take them too seriously

[webxgal]

[Ⅲ] alea iacta est

the die is cast.

As routine starts shaping place, hell resurfaces onto Earth.

You never knew what to call this twilight zone, where the night sky turns a sickly green hue. Floating coffins scatter the streets, and the ground is always covered in bloody haze. It’s a dystopian nightmare, a classic purgatory setting. You simply refer to it as ‘Inferno’. It’s what you imagine hell to be like, according to descriptors your grandmother used to recite to you robotically. When the clock strikes twelve, for an hour you are the only being in the world, as you observed during your first year.

You have yet to transverse outside the steel gates of your dormitory. It is not fear that kept you inside, but the whisper in your ear that kept telling you to “wait”. You don’t know what you were waiting for, but you were patient. You spent your time merely analysing the demonic atmosphere of the world outside on the front lawn, cold blades of grass brushing against your skin.

(You used to wonder why you were never rightfully disgruntled by this chthonic version of the island, until your thoughts started murmuring “You do not fear death”. You forced yourself to stop thinking. You may have been their child, but you were not your parents. You fear death, you want to live, and you love being alive. Your camera is your evidence, your camera is your evidence.)

Over the spring break, you realise this phenomenon was entirely local. Upon returning to your hometown for the holidays, your grandmother had spent your first day harping on about your “poor father” and your “mephistophelian mother”. While your parents’ touch felt cold, you hadn’t found anything evil amongst the creased corners of your mother’s eyes and her obvious dimples. You realise why your mother stopped taking you to your grandmother’s house when you were six years old.

You had gone outside that night, watching the seconds tick by on the grandfather clock as your sudden desire to observe Inferno filled you. The urge to see something much more sinister overcame you. (Your mother was frigid, but she wasn’t malevolent. She wanted to die, but she still liked listening to Miki Matsubara as she stared outside). Yet, even when the clock had struck twelve and you double-checked if the time was right, Inferno never came. Hell only existed in Tatsumi Port Island. On your first night back at the dorm, you felt disgusted for admitting you felt more comforted at the sickening sight of that hellscape. Maybe you were really finding some kind of home on this island.

So, with your slow acceptance of this otherworld, on a random full moon, you finally stepped foot out of the protection of your dormitory. The air wasn’t cold, nor blazing. A nerve-wracking lukewarm temperature, as if someone were breathing hot air onto your chilly skin. Your camera is grasped tightly in your hands, despite the fact it no longer works during the hour for some reason. You wander the eerily quiet streets, daring not to breathe too loudly even if there is nothing alive, nothing existing. You walked on your toes, and you dared to never look back or look down. You travelled in a straight line.

You come across a monorail standing stationary. Doors open, and you can see nothing through the tinted windows of the carriages. The common sense preached by the horror genre will tell you to never explore anything unfamiliar. However, this was no movie and you were no protagonist. So, you step inside as if you were any other passenger.

The dim interior of the carriage doesn’t wreck your nerves. Not yet. It’s deathly silent. You see only two coffins inside the carriage, and wonder what it means. You instinctively hold up your camera, forgetting nothing will happen as you press the button. Being unable to use your camera is the first time you’ve truly felt inconvenienced by the strange hour. You transverse past the first two carriages, and find a similar scenery each time. You don’t understand your disappointment at not finding something more interesting awaiting you in the monorail, and you consider heading back to the first carriage where the doors were not sealed shut.

That is until you hear the familiar sound of something slamming. Was that the doors?

You feel your heartbeat quicken a pace, and you turn to run back till something grabs at your ankle. It was not the touch of a human being, but rather something slimy and disgusting. You instinctively scream in surprise, flailing and stumbling away in clumsy movements. Something beyond your mortal comprehension floats in front of you, inhuman and disgusting. It doesn’t touch the floor, instead leering where it is. It has no eyes to see, but the position it holds over you is enough to tell you that it considers your prey as it stays unmoving, tauntingly letting you make the first move. Bile rises to your throat at the idea that even with the choice of you running or attacking this demonic entity, the outcome will be the same. You will die today.

The door behind you opens in forced entry, startling both you and the demon as it suddenly takes a defensive stance. You didn’t know whether to collapse or cry in relief when you see three familiar faces. Takeba is the first one to recognise you, immediately yelling out your name in incredulity and telling you to get behind them, Iori already stammering out obvious statements like what is going on. You don’t immediately question how they are here, and what good will come from you running, but you listen. You take your cover behind Takeba’s back, and you can see her painted lips pursed together as if holding herself back from firing questions as you. You notice something shining in her hand and your heart drops to your stomach when you realise it’s a gun.

“The shadow—!” Yukari turns to Arisato but he seems one step ahead of her, already strolling towards the creature from hell as it bristles. He raises his gun and your breath leaves you all at once when he points the barrel to his temple. A silent scream escapes your throat, a cry of “don’t!” left unsaid before he’s already pulled the trigger and your heart stops. Instead of his brain painting the walls of the carriage, the air crackles in electricity. Chills go down your spine as something materialises out of the air, large and inhuman. It looked like a robot, weirdly humanoid in its figure but at the same time so formidably haunting. You can only watch, both mesmerised and tremulous, as the thing Arisato summoned begins its descent, attacking with flames. The demon, this ‘shadow’, that had taunted you before is gone within a few seconds as if it were a mere bug. You hadn’t even realised that you had stopped breathing until Arisato’s eyes met yours, impassive stare but you could feel something else stewing in his blue hues. His question for you is silent, but you can hear it loud and clear—why are you here? Iori decides to bring voice to the curiosity brimming his teammate's minds, adjusting the brim of his cap as if to get a closer look at you.

“You’re a persona user? You?” He questions, stupefied and you can only blink.

“What?” You repeat, embarrassed to find your voice wobbling. Takeba’s eyes furrow together, lips parting as she begins to speak. However, she is cut off by the violent rocking of the monorail, almost knocking all of you from your feet. You instinctively grab onto the sleeve of Takeba’s blazer, as she reaches to steady you by the forearms.

“What the hell?” Iori exclaims loudly, tone laced with panic as Arisato and Takeba immediately stiffen. You can feel it too, goosebumps dancing on your skin at the paranoia of something dangerous shadowing the carriage.

Then, the monorail begins to move.

#believe me i wanted to put all the action into one chapter so we can get to all the exciting bits (minato) #but sighs i have to break it up or i'll burn out #persona 3 #p3 x reader #p3 #minato arisato x reader #minato arisato #makoto yuki x reader #makoto yuki #x reader #reader insert #webxgal writes #p3 protagonist x reader #persona 3 x reader #persona 3 protagonist #memento vivere #also not reread so might be more mistakes in this chapter than usual whoops :P